Stone of Tears Read Online Free PDF Page A

the stone, and wondered if it could be true, or only a bauble bought on a whim. He had not seen one wearing the Stone as a calling in a very long time. Surely one this young couldn’t know what it proclaimed.
    “I am wizard Zeddicus Zu’l Zorander. And who are you, child, to give me orders?”
    Her face paled even more. “Forgive me wizard … “
    She calmed as Zedd touched his fingers to her forehead. The pain caught his breath so sharply he jerked his fingers away. He had to struggle to keep the tears of hurt from showing.
    He knew without a doubt now: she wore the Stone in calling. The Stone, to match the color of her eyes, and worn over the forehead, as if the mind’s eye, was a talisman to proclaim her inner vision.
    A hand snatched at the back of his robes, tugging.
    “Wizard!” came a sour voice from behind. “You will tend to me first!” Zedd turned to a face that matched the voice, and maybe outdid it a little. “I am Lady Ordith Condatith de Dackidvich, House of Burgalass. This wench is nothing but my body servant. Had she been as quick as she should have been, I wouldn’t be suffering so! I could have been killed, as slow as she was! You will tend to me first! I could expire at any moment!”
    Zedd could tell without touching her that her injuries were minor. “Forgive me, My Lady.” He made a show of putting his fingers to her head. As he thought: a hard bruise to her ribs, a few lesser to her legs, and a small gash on her arm, requiring at most a stitch or two.
    “Well?” She clutched at the silver ruffles at her neck. “Wizards,” she muttered. “Next to worthless if you want to know the truth of it. And these guards! I think they were asleep at their posts! Lord Rahl shall hear of this! Well? What of my injuries?”
    “My Lady, I’m not sure there is anything I can do for you.”
    “What!” She snatched the neck of his robe and gave it a snug yank. “You had better see that there is, or I will see that Lord Rahl has your head on a pike! See what good your lazy magic does you then!”
    “Of course, My Lady. I will endeavor to do my best.”
    He ripped the small gash in the dark maroon satin fabric of the sleeve, making it a huge, hanging flag, then put a hand back on the shoulder of the woman with the blue stone. She moaned as he blocked some of her pain and gave her strength. Her ragged breathing evened. He kept his hand on her, trickling in a little magic of reassurance and comfort.
    Lady Ordith shrieked. “My dress! You’ve ruined it!”
    “Sorry, My Lady, but we can’t risk the wound festering. I would rather lose the dress than the arm. Wouldn’t you agree?”
    “Well, yes I guess …”
    “Ten or fifteen stitches should do it,” he said to the sturdily built healer bent over between the two women on the floor. Her hard, blue-gray eyes glanced to the small wound and then back to the wizard.
    “I am sure you would know best, Wizard Zorander,” she said in an even voice, betraying only in her gaze to him that she understood his true intent.
    “What! You are going to let this ox of a midwife do your work for you?”
    “My Lady, I am an old man. I have never had any talent for sewing, and my hands shake something awful. I am afraid I would do more damage than I would repair, but if you insist, I will try my best …”
    “No,” she sniffed. “Let the ox do it.”
    “Very well.” He looked up to the healer. No emotion touched her features, but splotches of red colored her cheeks. “I fear there is only one hope for her other injuries, considering the pain she is in. Do you have any wattle root in those big pockets of yours?”
    She gave a little frown of puzzlement. “Yes, but …”
    “Good,” he cut her off. “I think two cubes should be sufficient.”
    Her eyebrow lifted. “Two?”
    “Don’t you try to be skimpy with me!” Lady Ordith screeched. “If there isn’t enough to go around, then someone of lesser importance will just have to go short! You give me