Wizards’ Worlds Read Online Free Page A
Author: Andre Norton
her face.
His expression was one of wonder.
“It is all gone! The curse is gone. So she is beaten at last! But you are a woman,
and Jonkara could always work her will through any woman—that was her power and our
undoing. She held every woman within her grasp. Knowing that, we raised what defenses
we could. For we could never trust those who might again open Jonkara’s dread door.
Why in truth did you not slay me? My blood would have freed her, and she would have
given you a measure of her power—as always she had done.”
“She was no one to command me! ”Tanree’s self-confidence returned with every breath she drew. “I am Sulcar, not one
of your women. So—this Jonkara—she was why you hate and fear women?”
“Perhaps. She ruled us so. Her curse held us until thedeath of Langward, who dying, as you saw, from the steel of his own Queen, somehow
freed a portion of us. He had been seeking long for a key to imprison Jonkara. He
succeeded in part. Those of us still free fled, so our legends say, making sure no
woman would ever again hold us in bond.”
He rubbed his hands across his face, streaking the dust of vanished Salzarat.
“This is an old land. I think though that none walk it now. We must remain here—unless
your people come seeking you. So upon us the shadow of another curse falls.”
Tanree shrugged. “I am Sulcar but there was none left to call me clan-sister. I worked
on the Kast-Boar without kin-tie. There will be no one to come hunting because of
me.” She stood up, her hands resting on her hips and turned her back deliberately
upon the sea.
“Falconer, if we be cursed, then that we live with. And, while one lives, the future
may still hold much, both good and ill. We need only face squarely what comes.”
There was a scream from the sky above them. The clouds parted, and, through weak sunlight,
wheeled the falcon. Tanree threw back her head to watch it.
“This is your land, as the sea is mine. What make you of it, Falconer?”
He also got to his feet. “My name is Rivery. And your words have merit. It is a time
for curses to slink back into shadows, allowing us to walk in the light, to see what
lies ahead.”
Shoulder to shoulder they went down from the hillock, the falcon swooping and soaring
above their heads.
Toads of Grimmerdale
1
T HE drifts of ice-crusted snow were growing both taller and wider. Hertha stopped to
catch her breath, ramming the butt of the hunting spear she had been using as a staff
into the drift before her, the smooth shaft breaking through the crust with difficulty.
She frowned at the broken hole without seeing it.
There was a long dagger at her belt, the short-hafted spear in her mittened hand.
And under her cloak she hugged to her the all too small bundle which she had brought
with her out of Horla’s Hold. The other burden which she carried lay within her, and
she forced herself to face squarely the fate it had brought upon her.
Now her lips firmed into a line, her chin went up. Suddenly she spat with a hiss of
breath. Shame—why should she feel shame? Had Kuno expected her to whine and wail,
perhaps crawl before him so he could “forgive” her, prove thus to his followers his
greatness of spirit?
She showed her teeth as might a cornered vixen and aimed a harder blow at the drift.
There was no reason for her to feel shame, the burden in her was not of wanton seeking.
Such things happened in times of war. She guessedthat when matters worked so, Kuno had not been backward himself in taking a woman
of the enemy.
It remained that her noble brother had sent her forth from Horla’s Hold because she
had not allowed his kitchen hags to brew some foul potion to perhaps poison her, as
well as what she bore. Had she so died he could have piously crossed hands at the
Thunderer’s altar and spoken of Fate’s will. And it would have ended neatly. In fact
she might believe that perhaps that
His expression was one of wonder.
“It is all gone! The curse is gone. So she is beaten at last! But you are a woman,
and Jonkara could always work her will through any woman—that was her power and our
undoing. She held every woman within her grasp. Knowing that, we raised what defenses
we could. For we could never trust those who might again open Jonkara’s dread door.
Why in truth did you not slay me? My blood would have freed her, and she would have
given you a measure of her power—as always she had done.”
“She was no one to command me! ”Tanree’s self-confidence returned with every breath she drew. “I am Sulcar, not one
of your women. So—this Jonkara—she was why you hate and fear women?”
“Perhaps. She ruled us so. Her curse held us until thedeath of Langward, who dying, as you saw, from the steel of his own Queen, somehow
freed a portion of us. He had been seeking long for a key to imprison Jonkara. He
succeeded in part. Those of us still free fled, so our legends say, making sure no
woman would ever again hold us in bond.”
He rubbed his hands across his face, streaking the dust of vanished Salzarat.
“This is an old land. I think though that none walk it now. We must remain here—unless
your people come seeking you. So upon us the shadow of another curse falls.”
Tanree shrugged. “I am Sulcar but there was none left to call me clan-sister. I worked
on the Kast-Boar without kin-tie. There will be no one to come hunting because of
me.” She stood up, her hands resting on her hips and turned her back deliberately
upon the sea.
“Falconer, if we be cursed, then that we live with. And, while one lives, the future
may still hold much, both good and ill. We need only face squarely what comes.”
There was a scream from the sky above them. The clouds parted, and, through weak sunlight,
wheeled the falcon. Tanree threw back her head to watch it.
“This is your land, as the sea is mine. What make you of it, Falconer?”
He also got to his feet. “My name is Rivery. And your words have merit. It is a time
for curses to slink back into shadows, allowing us to walk in the light, to see what
lies ahead.”
Shoulder to shoulder they went down from the hillock, the falcon swooping and soaring
above their heads.
Toads of Grimmerdale
1
T HE drifts of ice-crusted snow were growing both taller and wider. Hertha stopped to
catch her breath, ramming the butt of the hunting spear she had been using as a staff
into the drift before her, the smooth shaft breaking through the crust with difficulty.
She frowned at the broken hole without seeing it.
There was a long dagger at her belt, the short-hafted spear in her mittened hand.
And under her cloak she hugged to her the all too small bundle which she had brought
with her out of Horla’s Hold. The other burden which she carried lay within her, and
she forced herself to face squarely the fate it had brought upon her.
Now her lips firmed into a line, her chin went up. Suddenly she spat with a hiss of
breath. Shame—why should she feel shame? Had Kuno expected her to whine and wail,
perhaps crawl before him so he could “forgive” her, prove thus to his followers his
greatness of spirit?
She showed her teeth as might a cornered vixen and aimed a harder blow at the drift.
There was no reason for her to feel shame, the burden in her was not of wanton seeking.
Such things happened in times of war. She guessedthat when matters worked so, Kuno had not been backward himself in taking a woman
of the enemy.
It remained that her noble brother had sent her forth from Horla’s Hold because she
had not allowed his kitchen hags to brew some foul potion to perhaps poison her, as
well as what she bore. Had she so died he could have piously crossed hands at the
Thunderer’s altar and spoken of Fate’s will. And it would have ended neatly. In fact
she might believe that perhaps that