The Caravan Road by Jeffrey Quyle Page A

projectile with a sideways roll that also threw him clear of the man’s sword, then pulled a knife of his own out of his bandolier and tossed it before he rose back to a standing position.  The knife caught the man by surprise, strangely enough, as it landed in his right shoulder, and Alec took advantage of the injury to close in upon the man.  The injured Ajax was close enough, and surprised enough by the wound he had suffered, that Alec was a ble to launch the final stroke quickly, before the warrior could begin another attack against him.
    Alec stabbed the sword suddenly, piercing the blade into the man’s chest, letting it find the narrow gap between the ribs that allowed the metal to enter his opponent’s heart, and drop the dead officer to the ground instantaneously, a look of unspoken astonishment on his face.
    “Release the girl,” Alec told the two men who were standing slack-jawed before him.  “Pick up your companions, and take them back to the palace.  Tell everyone there that the rightful Duke h as returned to Valeriane.  The pretender must leave immediately, along with his followers.
    “Do you know where my steward, Charls, is?” Alec asked the guards before they could begin to move away from him.
    “The old Duke’s steward is in the dungeon, sir,” one of the guards spoke quickly, his eyes deferentially averted from Alec’s face.
    “ I want him released, unharmed, tomorrow at nightfall, or I will punish his captors,” Alec said.  “Explain that clearly to everyone at the palace.  Now pick up your companions, and take your officer and go.  Give the girl to me.”
    The captive was thrust forward at Alec as the soldiers hastily gathered their loads, the windblown soldiers picking up the dead officer while the other two began dragging the unconscious soldiers.  Alec looked down at the girl who huddled against his chest, her pretty face pathetically streaked with tears.
    “Are you hurt?” Alec asked her.
    “No, but they murdered my father,” the girl began to cry.
    “Let’s go see.  Take me to his body,” Alec commanded.  “Let’s hurry.”
    He glanced over his shoulder as the girl began to run towards the market, and saw that the patrol was slowly leaving the square, while the perimeter of the open space was ringed by silent watchers, people of the neighborhood who had come to watch the unfolding confrontation.  A cheer began to rise from one corner, and within seconds it had erupted on all sides.
    “Thank you,” the girl spoke over her shoulder to Alec as they entered the market.  “Are you truly the old Duke?  My parents said he died years ago.”
    “Those soldiers don’t think I’m dead, now do they?” Alec answered.
    They reached a knot of people gathered and stooping over someone lying on the ground.  Alec shouldered his way through the crowd, dragging the girl with him, then knelt next to the man.  He engaged his Healer vision and examined the man closely, as he heard the girl describing the confrontation in the square.
    “The old Duke had healing hands, I remember,” he heard one voice affirm, and then he focused solely on the body before him.
    The man was not dead.  His throat had been slashed, and his blood was spreading in a pool around his body.  Alec placed his hand over the man’s throat and healed the jagged cut, ending the loss of blood, then he drew one of his daggers and slashed his own arm, slashed the man’s arm, and pressed the two together.  He flashed a spark of his energy to make the flesh of their two bodies grow together as a murmur went through the watching crowd.
    “What are you doing?” the girl asked in a fearful tone, leaning down over him.
    “Your father isn’t dead.  I’ve healed the cut on his neck, and I’m giving him some of my blood now to replace the blood he lost, and to give him strength,” Alec reached with his free hand to take the girl and guide her to his side, then placed one of her hands on her father’s