01 - Empire in Chaos by Anthony Reynolds - (ebook by Undead) Page A

wounded,” she said breathlessly, shaking her head. The farmer stared at
her as if she were mad.
    “I saw it myself, girl,” he repeated, a pitying expression coming over his
face. She shook her head, and wiped away more of the blood on the boy’s skin.
    “Look—there is no wound! The boy lives!” she said, louder this time. She
was certain that the boy had been close to death, but she could now see the rise
and fall of his chest as he rested peacefully.
    The farmer looked at the boy, then at her, fear in his eyes.
    “Witchcraft,” he muttered.
    “What?” said Annaliese. “What are you talking about? It must not have been
his blood. The spear must have missed him!”
    “Don’t look at me, witch!” cried the farmer, shielding his eyes from her
gaze. More people looked over at her, fear and suspicion on their faces. They
muttered beneath their breath.
    Annaliese stood up, wiping the tears from her face. “No,” she said
emphatically, shaking her head. “You are mistaken. The boy is well.”
    “Where did she come from?” said a fearful voice. Several of the soldiers
tightened their grips on their halberds uneasily, stepping towards her.
    “She wasn’t with us before the attack. She led them to us!” declared an
elderly woman, to the accompaniment of angry mutterings.
    Lifting the boy protectively in her arms, she stepped backwards away from the
angry group, shaking her head. She felt the reassuring presence of Eldanair
behind her, his bow in hand.
    “Leave her be,” snapped one of the soldiers. “She and her companion killed
several of the beasts.”
    “That child was dead, I tell you. He should be journeying to the halls of
Morr, alongside his father,” said the first farmer, his voice raised. “She
brought him back to life! She’s a witch!”
    “Enough,” roared the soldier. “There will be no more bloodshed this day. Go
get those wagons moving.” The farmer stared at the man darkly. “Go!” the soldier
barked. Then he marched towards Annaliese.
    “Thank you,” she said breathlessly. “I… I don’t understand it. I too thought
he was close to death. But… I must have been mistaken.”
    The soldier was middle-aged, and his armour dented and scarred from use and
repair. His face was grim, and his eyes dead as they flicked from Annaliese to
Eldanair, who tugged his hood down lower over his face. He shrugged.
    “I don’t want to see any more people hurt,” he said.
    “Where are the boy’s parents?”
    “His mother died in childbirth. Her father lies dead at your feet. He has no
family.”
    “Someone must take him in,” Annaliese said. The soldier looked at her
blankly.
    “He has no family,” he said slowly. “There is no one to take him in.”
    “Surely someone amongst these people will care for him? Some relative, or friend?”
    The soldier shook his head. “These people are starving,” he said, his voice
lowered. “There are not enough provisions as it is—he is just another mouth to
feed, another back to clothe. There is no one, I’m sorry.” He turned away from
her, and began marching back towards the wagons.
    “But you cannot leave him here to die!” she said, going after him. The
soldier turned back to her, his face hard.
    “It might have been better for him if he had died,” he hissed. “I saw
him struck as well—it was a mortal blow I don’t know what power it was that
you used to heal him, but I will not allow you or the boy to travel with us.
Care for him yourself.”
    The anger faded from him and he seemed to slump, exhaustion overcoming him.
He sighed, running a hand across his unshaved jaw, and Annaliese realised that
this was the real reason why they would not accept the child—they feared that
she had healed him with sorcerous power, and that perhaps he had been tainted by
the power of Chaos.
    “There is a temple of Shallya, some twenty leagues to the north-east. Follow
the road, and you will find it. The gentle sisters of that order will