Read Villains by Necessity for Free Online Page B

an archmage, after all ... he'd come for Sam in his own time. And then Sam would do his best to kill him; for pride, for self-defense, for revenge ... for that inexplicable perversity of what he could assume now was his dark nature. And for a thousand gold tellins, too, of course.
    "We have collected your horses and packed them with supplies for the journey. We awaited only your return to consciousness." Kaylana took down a wooden shield from an alcove in the wall and slung it over her back.
    "Come. We must leave." She took her staff from where she had leaned it briefly against the wall and walked out the door. Arcie trotted after her, stuffing a few rolls from a shelf into his pocket, and Sam slowly rose and followed.
    Outside, Kaylana made a trilling noise and clicked her tongue a few times. On silent padding feet, the wildcat trotted out and vanished into the woods, followed by a few birds, and, a short while later, a young weasel and a family of dormice. Kaylana nodded and pushed the thorn bush back over the entry. Then she touched her staff to its roots, closed her eyes in concentration, and murmured softly under her breath for a moment, using her ancient magic to persuade, hasten, encourage ...
    At first, nothing happened. Then, suddenly, the thorn bush writhed, its branches curling and snaking as they lengthened, the dirt bubbling as the rapidly spreading bush thrust thick roots into the soil. Sam and Arcie stepped back from the cracking plant, and Kaylana gave it a look of satisfaction and moved away. Within minutes the whole of the huge rock that was Kaylana's home was covered three feet thick in a snarl of thorns and leaves. A gnarled trunk and roots blocked the entry as effectively as an iron portcullis.
    Sam shook his head and turned to pat his horse. It sniffed at him and tried to eat his hair. Standing with the horses, Sam noted, was a large stag, his antlers still velvety. As he looked at it, Kaylana went up to it and patted its neck lightly, and then gracefully vaulted onto its broad back as it stood calmly. It wore no saddle or bridle, but Kaylana looked like she knew what she was doing with it..
    Wondering what he was getting into, riding out to save the world with a half-pint thief and a strange Druid who rode a deer, he heaved himself up into the saddle. The horse tossed its head, but he steadied it and settled back to watch the comical process ofarcie mounting his pony.
    As a rule, Barigans distrusted any animals much larger than the diminutive shaggy ponies native to their chilled and rocky land. This pony was oftroisian-Einian stock, and just barely qualified for the title of "pony." In Sam's opinion, Arcie would have fitted better on a large sheep (or, for the assassin's own preference, the end of a spear), but the Barigan, irrepressible as always, took the long reins in his teeth and grabbed hold of the dangling stirrup.
    With an agility surprising in a man of his build and stature, he climbed hand over hand up the stirrup leather.
    As soon as he could, he swung around and planted his feet carefully on the pony's side, and used the additional leverage to struggle up to the seat of the saddle. The pony bore this ridiculous treatment with a lowered head and laid back ears. Arcie knew what he was doing when he'd chosen this horse; he'd seen it around town, taking small clusters of the children of the worthies around on its back. Compared to their trick-riding and wild yells, the Barigan's clumsy scramble was commonplace. Arcie heaved himself into the seat and sat panting. Sam applauded him silently, and then added, in a gentle yet venomous voice, "By the way, old chum, I'd like my things, if you don't mind."
    "Things?" Arcie was pure innocence.
    "Come on, you cheating thief! Nobody falls asleep in your presence who doesn't wake up about ten pounds lighter. You and I both know I haven't had a cent on me since those guards finished searching me and shackling me. But you and I also know that I'm nowhere near