Forest Kingdom Trilogy 2 - Blood and Honor

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Authors: Simon R. Green
soaked to the skin in moments. He looked frantically about him for some kind of shelter, but there wasn't any. The horses were rearing and neighing shrilly, despite
    everything Argent did to try to soothe them, spooked by the sudden storm.
    Lightning flared across the sky, and cracked down to strike the ground barely a dozen yards away from the group. The ground shook violently and, where the bolt had hit, the heather burst into flames. The pouring rain put them out again before they could spread. Thunder roared again, even closer and louder than before. It seemed to echo on in Jordan's bones, even after the sound was gone. Lightning struck again, closer this time, and the impact sent all of them flying to the ground. Jordan burrowed down into
    the heather, knowing even as he did that it wasn't going to be enough to hide him. Roderik called for them all to stay close together, but his voice was all but lost in the roar of the storm. Jordan looked up, and then buried his head in his arms as the lightning struck again. The earth shuddered beneath him, and he could feel the heat of burning heather not far away. The lightning was drawing steadily closer.
    Gawaine surged to his feet in the pause after the lightning struck, and held his axe above his head. Jordan watched incredulously, half convinced the knight meant to sacrifice his life to save the others. The lightning flared again, a jagged arc of light that stretched from the clouds to the axe's head in a fraction of a second. The steel blade glowed fiercely as the lightning hit it, but Gawaine barely flinched. And then the lightning was gone, and Gawaine still stood there, unharmed. Jordan brushed the rain out of his eyes with the back of his hand, and watched disbelievingly as lightning flared again and again, blinking on and off in quick succession, drawn to the glowing axehead like a moth to a candle. Gawaine stood firm, holding the axe above him, his head turned away and his eyes squeezed shut. Slowly, gradually, the lightning strikes grew further apart, and the thunder lost its roar. The wind died away to nothing, and the rain lost its sting.
    Roderik clambered to his feet, and raised his hands above his head. The rain spattered on his upturned face as his brow furrowed in concentration. A breeze blew from his hands, building quickly into a roaring gale. Gawaine staggered as he felt its first touch, and then realised what was happening and threw himself to the ground. Jordan did the same. The heather was pressed flat by the howling wind. Jordan dug his fingers into the muddy ground to try to anchor himself. Roderik stood tall and proud, unmoved by the tempest he had summoned into being. The rain began to die away, and a gap appeared in the dark storm clouds. A shaft of morning light fell on to Roderik like a spotlight. More breaks appeared in the clouds as the wind broke them apart and moved them on. The rain gradually stopped, and was replaced by the returning sunshine.
    Roderik lowered his hands, and as quickly as that the gale died away to a wind, and then to a breeze, and then was gone. For a while there was only an echoing silence, and then one by one the birds began calling to each other in the heather. The storm had passed, leaving nothing behind to mark its fury save a few patches of blackened and smouldering heather. Gawaine got to his feet, nodded briefly to Roderik, and sheathed his axe. He moved away to calm the terrified horses, while Jordan and Argent got up and went to join Roderik, who was rubbing tiredly at his temples.
    'Are you all right, Rod?' said Argent anxiously. 'I never knew you had so much Blood.'
    Roderik gave him a quick, reassuring smile. 'I'm fine, thanks. Just a little out of practice. It's been a long time since I dared use my air magic in public.'
    'Why's that?' said Jordan. 'I thought you said strong elemental magic was a mark of status in High Society?'
    Roderik smiled sourly. 'It also makes you a target for intrigues and assassinations.

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