Read Clariel: The Lost Abhorsen (The Abhorsen Trilogy Book 4) for Free Online

she had no recollection of drawing it.
    The man was still on the ground as she stabbed at his thigh, her knife deflected at the last moment by the surprising intervention of Roban’s sword, blades screeching as he forced her strike aside.
    “No, milady!” he said urgently, distracting her just long enough for the attacker to roll away under a handcart, his hood falling away from his face. Clariel saw him clear for a moment, a handsome young man with fair hair. Their eyes met, hers so brown they were almost black, his as blue as a painted sky. He winked at her, crawled under the cart, sprang up, and fled down a side alley.
    Roban kept Clariel’s knife engaged with his sword and his hand gripped her elbow. She twisted against his hold, and tried to disengage her knife, a red rage filling her with a violent strength, so strong Roban had to fully exert himself to hold her back.
    “Milady!” he shouted. “No!”
    Clariel heard his shout as if from far away. She ignored it, and turned into him, her knife slipping under his blade, coming up again to gut him, fast enough he had to release her and step back, ready to parry or even riposte, and then her blow faltered as the viciousness suddenly left her.
    She slowly lowered her knife, but Roban did not step closer.
    “I had him!” she protested. “Why did you stop me!”
    “Everything isn’t always what it seems,” said Roban quietly, watching her with wary eyes. “I didn’t know you had a knife. Or that you could use it.”
    “I’m a hunter!” spat Clariel, too loudly, the force of her words helping rekindle the anger she had tamped back down. She took a breath, slowly releasing it, expelling the rage as her lungs emptied. This anger came upon her rarely, but she knew she had to be careful of its consequences. She had kept it suppressed since she was old enough to realize what it could lead her to. In the rage, Clariel was not herself.
    “I see,” muttered Roban. “Are you all right?”
    Clariel knew what he really meant was “Have you got yourself under control?”
    “Yes,” she said, sheathing her knife back in its special place inside her boot. Her hand was trembling, and she felt strangely weak, as if her knees might fold and she would tumble to the ground. She took a deep breath and managed to stand fully upright, but she was very wobbly on her feet.
    Only then did Roban come closer. He put his hand under her elbow to steady her and leaned close to whisper.
    “Just go along with this for the moment. All right?”
    “Only if you explain why you stopped me.”
    “Later,” he said hurriedly. “Not safe here.”
    “Oh, milady,” cried Valannie, hurrying over. She was the only one heading toward Clariel. The previously crowded street was emptying fast. People were disappearing into shops and houses, or retreating back up the street, a tide of humanity most definitely on the ebb.
    Valannie looked at Roban, who gave a slight nod, filled his lungs, and shouted.
    “Goldsmiths! Goldsmiths! To me! A Guard! A Guard!”
    His cry was answered swiftly. Far more swiftly than would usually be the case, thought Clariel. Shouts came from several directions, repeating his words, and within a few minutes the heavy tramp of many boots upon the paved street could be heard, accompanied by the clatter and jangle of arms and armor.
    “What is going on?” asked Clariel. She could feel her strength returning, and stepped away from Roban’s supporting hand.
    “A vicious attack upon a goldsmith’s daughter,” said Valannie. “Terrible it is. You were lucky not to be killed.”
    “No I wasn’t,” protested Clariel. “It was a—”
    “Shock,” interrupted Roban urgently. His right eye half closed in a desperate, slow wink. “You’ve had a nasty shock. But you’re safe now. Look, here come the Guard.”
    “Faked,” whispered Clariel, low and to herself. The cut had missed her by a body’s width at least. If the young man had really wanted to hit her, he would