The Hermetica of Elysium (Elysium Texts Series) Read Online Free PDF Page A

trampled flooded her mind to the exclusion of everything else.
    She could not draw a breath to scream with her body over the back of the horse, and another jolt caused her to bite her lip. Salty blood filled her mouth and almost made her retch. Within moments her captor urged his horse to a gallop through the pre-dawn streets and the unpleasantness of her situation changed to torment.
    Nadira had only been on a horse once as a little girl. The memory was a mere image of being perched before her father on his favorite little Barbary stallion. By contrast, the animal pounding away beneath her ribs was an immense war charger, its legs longer than she was tall. The ground below her seemed miles away and every jolt forced her ribs into her mouth.
    After what seemed like an hour, Nadira was in so much pain from this ride that falling seemed a blessing instead of something to be avoided. At least the torture would stop. She began to push on the leather instead of holding it tightly. Within moments, she had some freedom and then she felt herself loose in the chilly air.
    The miserable jolting had stopped, but the relief was short-lived as she felt a greater jolt as the ground struck her the full length of her body. She lay dazed for a moment. Dawn had not yet arrived; she could not see clearly in the murk around her. She heard the horses’ hooves slow and then come to a stop. She tried to get up but still had no breath in her body. Feebly she pushed against the ground then suddenly a grip on her smock and cloak between her shoulder blades pulled her roughly into the air, her naked feet dangling above the ground. She was yanked around and set down hard.
    “You fool! You could have been killed!” Her keeper sputtered, punctuating his words with a shake of her dress. Her hood fell back and Nadira could see that they were out of the city and on the road that followed the river. The moon shown a half-light near the western horizon and it was pink in the east. If she could get free of his grip she could run to the river and hide on the banks where there was overgrown brush and many trees. These men had no dogs.
    She looked up at the man glaring down at her, his scar now white against the livid background of his face. She did not care that he was angry. The other men pulled their horses up around her and Montrose dismounted forcefully. He strode toward her, heavy boots thumping the packed clay road. He took her arm from the sentry and spun her to face him.
    “You may not like it now, but we have done you a great service.” He snapped, whipping off his gloves and slapping them sharply against his thigh.
    “Killing my master and stealing me from my home?” Nadira answered incredulously.
    “Your master is not dead. We did not harm him, but the Black Friars will. Their master, Torquemada, has poisoned the queen’s ear. No one in Castile or Aragon or even Andalusia is safe from his touch. We come now from Toledo, where even visitors feel vulnerable. You could be returned to your home if you wish…”
    “I wish!”
    “But first you must read for us.”
    “I will not! I do not know you and I resent being thrown over the back of a horse in the middle of the night!”
    The red spotted man narrowed his eyes at her.
    Lord Montrose pulled Nadira closer against his chest. The brass buckle on his baldric bruised her cheek. “You knew my brother for one day,” he said in a low voice, the thump of his heart rumbled beneath her ear.
    “Yes, but...”
    “And what did you think of him?” Montrose released her. Nadira wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, touching her swollen lip tentatively. She remembered the injured man, this large one’s brother. She glanced up at Lord Montrose. They were very different. This man was large and broad; his brother had been rather slight. Montrose was dark where his brother had been fair.
    She remembered how his brother must have suffered as he was kicked and beaten, how strong he must have been to keep