Read Dragon Blood-Hurog 2 for Free Online Page B

herself to remember that.
    "Taking you could have precipitated a scandal," I said. "Even with your father disowning you, you are a highborn lady—and as such entitled to a certain amount of respect to your person. The Tallvenish are very protective of their aristocratic womenfolk, and it is the Tallvenish who are the heart of Jakoven's seat upon the throne."
    "Not that protective," she protested. "They wouldn't change their allegiance over a woman—especially not an Oranstonian who fights like a man."
    I raised my eyebrows at the bitterness in her words and I wondered how uncomfortable she'd found life in Estian after the freedoms her father had allowed her.
    "You're right," I said, "at least in that most of them wouldn't have run to your rescue. But it would be as bad for him as if he were caught having relations with one of his hunting dogs. They would lose all respect
    for him, and that would be dangerous. My cousin's downfall must be important to him in order for him to
    risk being found out."
    "So he won't stop with me," she said. "And he probably didn't start with me, either." She sounded a little frantic, and I wondered if there were a man in particular she was worried about. I shrugged. "I don't know. It would take more than the word of a peasant or merchant to give King Jakoven a clear shot at Beckram. Someone that everyone knows is one of Alizon's supporters. Have you
    been missing anyone who fits that bill?'
    She shook her head. "No—not when I was taken. I don't know about now." I shifted forward slowly, to give her time to control her initial recoil, and put a gentle hand against her shoulder. "There's nothing you can do from your sickbed. Rest." Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html She held still under my touch, but made no move to lie back until I got off the bed.
    "Do you need help?" I asked, letting my hand drop casually to my side. "I know what your back must be
    feeling like."
    "No," she said. She hesitated for a moment, then sank back beneath the woven blankets and turned painfully onto her side to take pressure off her back and sore rib. "I can't think," she muttered.
    "Don't panic," I said. I'd been healed by Oreg a couple of times, too: I knew how it felt to have exhaustion pull my consciousness away from me. "It's just the magic." Her lips curved up as her eyes closed. "They call you a wizard—the Shavig Wizard, as if there were no other mages to come out of Shavig—or Hurog, for that matter. Did you really pull Hurog apart with your
    power?"
    "No," I answered. With my soul, perhaps, mine and Oreg's, but not my magic. "Rumor exaggerates. Oreg's our wizard here. On a good day I can light the fire in the hearth." I was a bit better than that, or had been before Oreg decided last month that I needed to learn to use my own magic rather than Hurog's to power my spells.
    The smile fell away from her lips and she struggled up on her elbows and forced her eyes open. "I shouldn't have come here," she said, her voice slurring the words. "It's too dangerous."
    "What would have been dangerous," I said, "would have been not knowing that Jakoven was moving against my family. For that you are welcome to stay here until you grow old and rot." My words eased her and she allowed me to pull the covers over her again. I waited until her breathing slowed before I touched her cheek.
    She wasn't objectively beautiful—she had her father's hawklike nose for one thing. On her father it was distinguished. On her it was … intimidating. Her face was all angles except for her slightly slanted eyes and overlarge mouth. She was too tall as well, and not in the slim-fragile manner of most tall women. Instead, she was lithe yet muscular, stronger, I daresay, than many men. To me she was glorious, even battered as she was. For the past four years I had measured every woman I met against her, to their detriment. Now she was here, in my bed. Tisala progressed rapidly from invalid to cranky