Devlin's Justice Read Online Free PDF Page A

she did the same.
    “As Chosen One, Devlin was bespelled—”
    “I know of that,” Saskia said hastily, making the hand gesture to avert ill luck. “Chief Mychal told me of his misfortune.”
    “Then you understand that he has no choice.”
    She understood nothing. She had traveled with Stephen for weeks, but suddenly it was as if a stranger looked at her over the table.
    “The wizard cured Devlin. Mychal told me of this.”
    “Ismenia was able to free Devlin from the mind-sorcery, but she could not break the Geas spell,” Stephen said, shocking her by naming a wizard aloud. “When he became Chosen One, Devlin swore an oath to serve faithfully until death. The Geas will hold him to that oath, regardless of personal cost. He is bound to return the sword to Kingsholm, and that is what he must do. Each delay will chip away at his will, until he can think of nothing but his duty. He will stay as long as he is able; but in the end he will leave, with or without us.”
    His blunt words sent a chill through her, and for a moment she wished that she had returned to Duncaer with the others. Even the smallest of children knew better than to mix their affairs with that of a wizard, and yet these Jorskians freely submitted themselves to such powers.
    “You trusted him so little that you bespelled him? What honor is there in that?”
    “All the Chosen Ones are bound by the Geas. It has been that way since the time of King Olaven.”
    “And Devlin agreed to it?” It had taken a leap of faith for her to imagine that Cerrie’s gentle husband had transformed himself into a warrior. But this sorcery went against everything their people believed. Devlin must have been tricked. Surely he could not willingly have accepted such chains upon his soul.
    “At the time I don’t think he expected to live long enough for it to matter. And now he cannot undo what has been done. Even the mage who cast the spell does not have the power to lift it. Devlin has found a way to control it, after a fashion, but his duty comes before all else. Those who would befriend him need to understand that.”
    Saskia shook her head in denial. She did not wish to be Devlin’s friend. Cerrie had been her friend. They had trained together, served together in the peacekeepers, and when Cerrie had married the gentle metalsmith, Saskia had borne witness. But now Cerrie was dead, and few traces remained of the man who had once been her husband. Still—for the sake of her old friend—Saskia had vowed to protect Devlin. She had sworn to see him safely delivered to Kingsholm, where his comrades could keep watch over him. She needed no spell to tell her her duty. But once she had completed her task, she would take her leave of these people and their strange ways.
    She turned her thoughts back to the matter at hand. “But what does this spell have to do with the matter? Would he really leave us behind? He has been gone for months. How can a few more days matter?”
    Stephen shrugged. “I know only what he has said, that he needs to be in Kingsholm before the spring session of court begins. He will stay as long as he can, but then—”
    “We will ford that stream when we come to it,” she said firmly. Surely Stephen was exaggerating the influence of the Geas. Devlin had proven himself a wise man, far too cunning to charge off blindly, no matter what his friends thought.
     
    Devlin returned to the common room with the news that Didrik had finally taken the medicines prepared for him and fallen asleep. The healer Jonam left with the promise that he would return after sunset to check on his patient.
    There being no other travelers, the inn was quiet, though Saskia had learned enough of Jorskian ways to understand that the common room would be crowded after sunset, with local folks come to drink watered wines and ease the aches of a day spent clearing muddy fields for planting. Still, it was empty for now, and they used that to their advantage, emptying their packs