Wellspring of Chaos Read Online Free PDF

twitched.
    Kharl glanced around, but the serviceway remained empty except for him and whoever lay near the wall. He bent down, and, as his eyes adjusted to the dimness, he could make out a slender figure—and the end of a smooth black staff. The figure was that of the young woman blackstaffer. Blood and mud splattered the tannish clothes, which had been partly ripped away from her for all too obvious purposes.
    Kharl glanced around again, then took a deep breath, and bent down. He pulled her torn cloak back across her exposed body, then eased the nearly limp figure into his arms. Her back felt humped, but he realized that the lumpiness was her pack. He managed to grasp the staff, which, despite the cold damp stones and the mud, felt warm to his touch. Then he lurched to his feet and began to walk out of the serviceway.
    Both Arthal and Charee were standing inside the open door to the shop as he carried the young woman through the doorway. Warrl stood farther back, his eyes darting from his father back to his mother.
    “Aryl was here. He said he might—” Charee broke off her words. “What have you there?”
    “A girl… young woman. She was attacked and beaten. I heard her moaning in the serviceway.” Kharl looked for somewhere to put her down. His eyes went to the stairs at the rear of the shop.
    Charee’s eyes went to the section of shimmering black staff that extended beyond the figure Kharl held. She stepped back. “She’s one of those. She’s one of those blackstaffers from Recluce. I won’t have her in my house.“
    Kharl repressed a sigh and bit back a retort. “Then pull out that apprentice’s pallet by the rear bench. You don’t have to have her upstairs.”
    “Why… how could you?”
    “I was supposed to leave her there, where she could have been attacked again or killed? Or died from the rain and cold?”
    Charee sighed. “No. Suppose you couldn’t do that.” There was only the slightest hint of emphasis on the word you.
    “Isn’t Father Jorum always saying that his god wants us to help strangers and those who cannot help themselves?“ asked Kharl.
    Arthal and Warrl exchanged quick glances.
    “Put her on the pallet,” Charee said. “I’ll get a blanket to put under her head and some damp cloths to clean away the blood.”
    Kharl waited as his consort pulled out the apprentice’s pallet, which had not been used in years, and wiped it off with a cloth. Then he eased the woman—little more than a girl, he thought, and certainly slender and light as one—onto the pallet. Then he put the staff against the wall.
    The cloak slipped slightly.
    Charee’s hand went to her mouth. “Oh…”
    “I said she’d been attacked. She might need a dry cover of some sort.”
    “That’d be best. I’ll be back in a moment. Warrl, you come with me!” Charee drew herself up and headed for the stairs, bustling up them in a way that conveyed offended dignity. Warrl followed.
    “Ohhhh…” The young woman’s eyes opened for a moment, then closed.
    Arthal looked closely at the uncovered woman’s exposed thigh, then away, almost guiltily, Kharl thought.
    “What do you know about this?” Kharl partly lifted the woman and eased the pack off her shoulders, lowering her as gently as he could. Then he placed the pack next to the wall beside the black staff.
    “Do you know who did it?” He straightened and looked at Arthal.
    “No, ser.”
    Kharl continued to stare at his son.
    “Some of the fellows, the ones who work in the carpentry shop on the piers, they were saying that she was really good-looking, and they’d like to get her alone… but that was all I heard.”
    “They said a lot more, but nothing about hurting her?” pressed Kharl. “Or did they—”
    “No, ser. They didn’t say anything like that. In fact, Derket said that she could be real dangerous. He once saw a woman from Recluce with a staff take down three of Lord North’s guards…”
    Kharl had the feeling Arthal was telling the