Watt-Evans, Lawrence - Annals of the Chosen 01 (99 page)

BOOK: Watt-Evans, Lawrence - Annals of the Chosen 01
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The
system
would
continue.

He
ate
a
hearty
breakfast
from
the
dead
Wizard
Lord's
pantries,
bathed
in
a
stone
tub
filled
by
the
maids,
and
then
dressed
in
his
cleanest
clothes—which
were
shabby
and
dingy,
as
he
had
been
long
upon
the
road.
Still,
he
felt
better than
he
had
in
some
time.
There
would
be
a
new
Wizard
Lord,
yes,
but
the
Red
Wizard
seemed
a
reasonable
choice—
Breaker
remembered
how
polite
he
had
been
when
he
first
arrived
in
Mad
Oak,
how
he
had
deferred
to
the
priestesses and
tried
not
to
trouble
the
ler.

Perhaps
it
would
be
another
century
before
next
the
Chosen
were
called
upon
to
remove
a
Dark
Lord.

It
was
a
new
day,
a
new
era—and
he
was
free
to
go
home
to
Mad
Oak,
or
to
go
anywhere
he
chose.
His
job
was
done.

He
was
on
the
muddy,
snowy
hillside
practicing
his swordsmanship
for
the
hour
the
ler
still
required
of
him when
the
Beauty
emerged
from
the
tower
and
headed
toward
him.
Her
face
was
wrapped
in
a
black
scarf,
as
always,
but he
could
see
her
eyes,
and
he
almost
thought
he
could
smell the
subtle
natural
perfume
of
her
hair.
She
watched solemnly
as
he
slashed
an
imaginary
opponent
to
ribbons,
and
when
at
last
he
stopped,
stepped
back,
and
began
wiping the
blade
she
approached.
*

"I
wanted
to
say
goodbye,"
she
said.
"I've
talked
one
of the
wizards
into
flying
me
back
to
Winterhome,
so
I
won't be
traveling
with
you."

"Oh,"
Breaker
said.

He
had
been
thinking
of
suggesting
that
she
accompany him
back
to
Mad
Oak,
but
now
that
seemed
overly
bold.
Instead
he
said,
"Perhaps
I
could
visit
with
you
there."

"Erren,"
she
said
quietly,
T
am
twice
your
age."
"Oh,"
he
said
again.

She
was
right,
he
knew
she
was,
but
still,
the
sight
of
her eyes
and
the
sound
of
her
voice
..
.

"It's
not
your
fault,"
she
said,
"and
if
I
were
ever
tempted
by
youth
and
vigor,
believe
me,
you
would
receive
very
serious
consideration—you
are
a
fine
young
man.
But
I
am
not
young."

He
nodded;
on
some
level
he
knew
she
was
right,
but
his
body,
his
heart,
did
not
agree.
His
pulse
had
quickened
just from
her
presence.

"Something
happened
in
the
tower,
when
you
killed
the
Wizard
Lord,
that
you
haven't
told
us
about,"
she
said.
It
was
not
a
question,
and
he
did
not
answer.

For
a
moment
they
looked
one
another
in
the
eye;
then
she
asked,
"Is
it
anything
I
should
know?"

"You
shouldn't
need
to,"
he
said,
"but
ask
me
again
a
year
from
now."

She
nodded.

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