Ashar'an Rising (Nexus Wars Saga) by Robert Day Page A

opened his eyes to find everything vanished that had been in the circle. There was no trace of their passing other than the dark stain of blood on the grass.
    Wasting no time to wonder at this feat, Andrak raced to his own gear and began lightening his pack. Food he kept, but little else other than a spare dagger, a blanket and a change of clothes. From Kitara's pack he retrieved her Harp, which had once belonged to the Elvin Bard, Llewellyn. He also stowed the large book of prophecies she had been reading. He used strips from a shirt to dress and bind his wounded side, finding the deep wound had missed anything vital, but bled furiously.
    He decided that retrieving one of the horses would serve him better in the long run, for although they had been on foot, the kidnappers may have had horses nearby, and there was no way he could keep up with riders on foot, no matter how many of them there were.
    He almost rued his decision as he searched fruitlessly for some time. In the dim light of the waning Santari and new Qantari he could see little, but after a time he heard the familiar sounds of a horse and tracked it. It was his own horse, Jester, a young grey gelding, which he quieted after some soothing words, obviously still spooked by the attack in the glade. Luckily his saddle was still fixed and the reins were simply cut, letting him re-tie them.
    He estimated that the kidnappers had a head start of three hours on him by the time he got underway, but he made a silent vow to catch them, even if it meant tracking them to the Great Eastern Desert and beyond.
     

Chapter 6
     
    The wash of cold water woke Valdieron from a fitful slumber, marred by deluded dreams and nightmares, all of which, though separate, seemed now to have been one jumbled vision. He vaguely recalled semi  consciousness on a few occasions, though when he could not tell, but once he thought he remembered being held in a dark cage, and another being dropped into darkness that seemed not to end.
    A silted light greeted his eyes and he squinted painfully, moving to shade his eyes with one hand but found his wrist secured at his side by a leather thong. On moving his head, a sharp pain ran along his back and up his neck, causing him to croon.
    His memory returned instantly, and it was no surprise to him to find a lean Darishi standing over him, an empty pail held in one hand, while the other held a slender dagger. He was young but hard, and he regarded Valdieron with a scowl, not obscured by his long dark hair.
    “ The Equinary will sentence you now!”
    “ Sentence?” Valdieron's bewilderment lasted momentarily before he remembered the words of Khalan moments before he lost consciousness. “...he will pay for my brother's death!” This meant they were in Salt Springs, an indication he had been unconscious for at least a day. There was an acrid taste in his mouth, and it struck him that his prolonged sleep was probably drug  induced, until such time as he could pass for trial.
    He made to speak, but the Darishi motioned him for silence with his dagger as he bent down to unfasten the leather cords binding him to a long wooden bench. With one wrist free, the Darishi bound it to his other before unfastening him completely, bemusing Valdieron, as he felt so stiff and sore that he could hardly move, let alone be able to disarm and overpower the Darishi. When his ankles were unfastened, the Darishi pulled him harshly to his feet, where he wobbled unsteadily and probably would have fallen if not for the Darishi's firm grip.
    They were in an oubliette. The smooth dirt walls were covered with dark lichen and moss, an indication of the moisture in the ground. It was cool, though near the entry it was obvious that outside was far warmer. There was no ladder leading out, but the Darishi motioned for him to raise his arms. The roof was barely above Valdieron's head, so his wrists and hands cleared the ceiling.
    He was grabbed by rough hands and lifted through the