Wandering Lark Read Online Free PDF

Renton that he should never ask to see Gareth Greenfyn’s face again, for it would certainly be the last thing his piggy eyes perceived.
    As Gareth stalked out of the keep, he felt the shift in the ley lines that circled the world. A message from Caer Keltora and Dun Gealach was hard not to notice when it had your name attached. Gareth closed his eyes and stretched mage senses, attuning them to the line.
    “ Gareth Greenfyn, if you value the life of your son Fenelon, you will come to Dun Gealach at once as the High Mage commands .”
    Horns, Gareth thought. What now? Were they not successful? Did Tane have the Dragon’s Tongue?
    Opening a gate to Dun Gealach, Gareth arrived to find much turmoil. He was greeted by Turlough’s assistant Lorymer and another, and to his surprise, they did not bother to check his intentions, but whisked him past all manner of guards and wards, straight to the heart of the keep of Dun Gealach and Turlough’s quarters.
    The High Mage was at his worktable, and the magical map of Ard-Taebh and most of the known territories it housed was glowing under the glass. Turlough stared at the map as though lost in thought, and Gareth noticed too that the rest of the chamber was empty. Even his escorts and the guards at the door departed.
    At last, Turlough looked up, and there was a hint of the old madness in his eyes. A madness Gareth had hoped time had healed. Obviously, he was wrong.
    “Your son is a traitor,” Turlough said.
    “And you think it’s my fault?” Gareth asked, letting one eyebrow rise.
    Turlough frowned. “Is there something in your branch of the family that breeds men with contempt for authority?”
    “And women,” Gareth said. “Now, you’re wasting my time, Turlough, and I’ve work to finish. What is all this about my son’s life being at stake?”
    “I plan to convene a council of trial,” Turlough said. “I plan to try your son as a traitor to the crown and to the Mage Council. I plan to push for the sundering of his powers...and for his death, unless I am assured that you will do something for me.”
    “May I see my son?” Gareth asked.
    “Why should I let you. He’s a prisoner in the towers, chained up like the mad dog he is.”
    “Because I have asked,” Gareth said, “and because it is my right. Or shall I go to the king and get his permission.”
    “You would not dare!” Turlough blurted. “The king of Keltora would not listen to you...”
    “Perhaps not, but I was thinking of going to the High King. He owes me a favor, you know. In fact, he would likely work a pardon for my son, if I asked.”
    “Your son has assisted that demon lover to escape!” Turlough shouted, slamming fists on the map table. The image rippled then flowed back into place. “And he will not tell me where he sent him!”
    “Well, if this is how you asked him,” Gareth said as he fought the urge to smile.
    Turlough closed his eyes and sought some semblance of calm. Slowly, he raised his head and glared at Gareth.
    “I want Alaric Braidwine,” Turlough said, “and his filthy demon. And I am willing to trade your son’s life and freedom for that. Now, as a father, how can you refuse?”
    “I said I could go to the High King.”
    “I will let you speak to him,” Turlough said. “I will let you ask him what he will not tell me. And if he will cooperate, all will be well. If not, then I will give you one of two choices.”
    “And what might those be?”
    “Find Alaric Braidwine and his demon, and bring them back to me.”
    “And the second choice?”
    “Stay in the tower with your son tonight, under the charges of being a traitor to the Keltoran crown, and watch him executed in the morning.”
    “You wouldn’t dare,” Gareth said.
    “Oh, but I would, Gareth,” Turlough said. “Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to watch his death, except, perhaps, to see Alaric Braidwine and his demon die.”
    “You have gone mad, haven’t you?” Gareth said.
    “There