The Shaman's Curse (Dual Magics Book 1) Read online

  THE SHAMAN’S CURSE

  Dual Magics Book 1

  By Meredith Mansfield

  Copyright 2014 Meredith Mansfield

  Kindle Edition

  Cover Images:

  Background Copyright Martin Capek | Dreamstime.com

  Spear Copyright Maryann Preisinger | Dreamstime.com

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1: The River

  Chapter 2: Wounds

  Chapter 3: Caere

  Chapter 4: The Smiths’ Guild

  Chapter 5: Deals

  Chapter 6: Smith Craft

  Chapter 7: Noticed

  Chapter 8: Rites of Passage

  Chapter 9: The Temple

  Chapter 10: Manhood

  Chapter 11: Secret Admirer

  Chapter 12: Revelations

  Chapter 13: Discovered

  Chapter 14: Anger

  Chapter 15: The Leash

  Chapter 16: Called Home

  Chapter 17: Help

  Chapter 18: Healing

  Chapter 19: The Zeda Waterhole

  Chapter 20: Tigers

  Chapter 21: Strategy

  Chapter 22: Rare Talent

  Chapter 23: The Hunt

  Chapter 24: Celebration

  Chapter 25: Avaza

  Chapter 26: New Worlds

  Chapter 27: Flight

  Chapter 28: The Journeyman’s Wife

  Chapter 29: Master Smith

  Chapter 30: Evenings Out

  Chapter 31: Break Up

  Chapter 32: He’s Back

  Chapter 33: Twins

  Chapter 34: Lonely Winter

  Chapter 35: Lies

  Chapter 36: Lightning Strikes

  Chapter 37: Accused

  Chapter 38: Ordeals

  Chapter 39: Cheater

  Chapter 40: Unexpected Help

  Chapter 41: Brothers

  Chapter 42: The Forest

  Chapter 43: Hostilities

  Chapter 44: Tracking

  Chapter 45: Pursuit

  Chapter 46: The Call

  Chapter 47: The Pass

  Chapter 48: Rescue

  Chapter 49: Too Late

  Chapter 50: Caught

  Chapter 51: Thekila

  Chapter 52: Bad News

  Chapter 53: Far Sight

  Chapter 54: Rival

  Chapter 55: Retribution

  Chapter 56: Studying Magic

  Chapter 57: Quarrel

  Chapter 58: Remorse

  Chapter 59: Forgiveness

  Chapter 60: The Council

  Chapter 61: Thekila’s Choice

  Chapter 62: Family

  Chapter 63: Vindication

  Excerpt

  About the Author

  Chapter 1: The River

  Vatar reined his horse back behind his friends and turned his head slowly to scan around the endless circle of the plains that merged with the sky at the far horizon. The earth was all golden brown now, the grasses prematurely dried up by the lack of rain. Here and there, the green smudges of trees dotted the savannah, marking the waterholes. The darker blue-green line of the Great Forest marked the eastern horizon. Another line of trees, much closer, marked the course of the river. Everything seemed normal, but that spot between his shoulder blades still itched with a premonition of undefined danger that grew stronger the closer they got to the river.

  Ariad slowed down to match Vatar’s pace, allowing the other two boys to go ahead. “Lions?”

  Vatar shook his head. That was one danger he could dismiss out of hand. His connection to the Spirit of the Lion told him the nearest lions—in the shade at a distant waterhole—were sleeping off a full meal. “None we need to worry about.”

  “What then?” Ariad asked.

  “I don’t know. Something . . .” Vatar caught himself before he said too much. It was one of his mother’s oldest admonitions—almost as old as “Don’t touch the fire!” From the very first time he’d tried to describe that infrequent feeling of danger, she’d warned him not to mention it to anyone but her and Pa. Even his little sister Kiara didn’t know about it.

  Vatar was already different enough—dark-haired and strongly-built among the tall, lanky, fair Dardani. Though she was Dardani now, his mother had come originally from a far-off city on the sea coast. The Dardani would accept his hair color and height, but not anything that even hinted at forbidden magic. Other than a few old stories, Vatar had no idea why his people had such deep-seated superstitious fear of magic, but he knew full well that it was one of the few things they’d never forgive.

  Vatar didn’t think the itch between his shoulder blades was magic, any more than his ability to sense lions. That was his connection to his clan’s totem spirit—just like Ariad could sense eagles. But Mother’s caution was second nature by now. He forced one corner of his mouth up in a half-smile. “Maybe I’ve just heard one too many of Pa’s stories about Themyri ambushes.”

  Ariad barked a laugh. “Haven’t we all? To hear our fathers tell it, the river is almost as dangerous as the Great Forest.” He shuddered a little at the reference to the one place all plains-dwelling Dardani feared most and made a surreptitious sign against magic and evil spirits. Being Eagle Clan, Ariad’s hand curled in an imitation of an eagle’s talons.

  Up ahead, Torkaz turned in his saddle. “Are you two coming or not?”

  Ariad waved his hand and kicked his horse into a canter. Vatar shrugged and followed.

  Torkaz wiped sweat from his forehead. “It’s too hot out here. Everything worth hunting is lying up in the shade somewhere.” He slipped his bow back into the fringed sheath on his saddle and grinned. “Why not cut our losses and cool off in the river?”

  Ariad’s gaze flicked to Vatar. “We’re not supposed to—”

  Predictably, Torkaz treated this simple statement as a challenge, standing up in is stirrups to make himself taller. “You have a better way to cool off?”

  Ariad looked around the empty plains. “No.”

  “Besides,” Torkaz went on, “the tribe won’t be staying here much longer. The rains are bound to come soon. Then we’ll go back to the Zeda waterhole, probably before midsummer. How often do the Dardani come all the way to the river?” His eyes glowed with excitement. “And next time, even if it’s as soon as next year, we’ll all have passed our manhood test and be too grown up to go wade in the river. This may be our last chance.”

  Daron shouted, “Race!” and took off at a gallop. Torkaz and Vatar whooped and jeered at each other as they urged their horses to speed in Daron’s wake. Ariad flailed his reins to speed his horse as he chased after the other three boys.

  It wasn’t long before Vatar stood beside his friends on the bank looking down at the river. Below where he stood was a broad boulder-strewn shelf. A few puddles of water lay scattered between the rocks, cut off from the main current by the drought.

  Torkaz had already taken hold of the exposed root of one of the trees to swing himself down. Once he stood on the shelf, Torkaz’s head was level with Vatar’s boots.

  “Come on!” Torkaz said. “No point in just standing up there.”

  Daron and Ariad paused to scan the open country on the far side of the river. That was Themyri territory and this anemic river wasn’t much of a barrier against them. But the only thing moving on that side of the river was a herd of wild horses. Vatar turned to look upriver and twitched his shoulders against the prickle between his shoulder blades. Whatever was wrong was in that direction, but he still couldn’t see, hear, or smell anything out of the ordinary.

  Daron gestured to the mountains in the distance, partly obscured by dark, low-hanging clouds. “L
ook at those clouds. Why can’t that rain be falling out on the plains, where it could do some good?”

  Ariad looked down. “With all that rain upstream, you’d think there’d be more water in the river, wouldn’t you?”

  Below, Torkaz had already stripped off his boots and tunic and was splashing in the cool water with his trousers rolled up to his knees. Daron shrugged and grasped the root to swing down to the shelf. With a peal of laughter, Ariad followed him.

  Vatar paused, looking from the distant mountains to the river below. A chill ran down his spine in spite of the hot summer sun. This is a very bad idea. With his hand at his side, Vatar made the sign of the lion, thumb and forefinger mimicking the open mouth of a roaring lion. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea, after all. Let’s go back.”

  Torkaz squinted up at him. “What are you scared of? It’s just a little water. It’s not even all that deep.”

  Stung by Torkaz’s taunt, Vatar took a step toward the edge. Before he could scramble down, Ariad and Daron grabbed his ankles. They laughed as they pulled him down, carried him over to the river, and tossed him in.

  Vatar came up sputtering in the cool water. Torkaz laughed at him. For just an instant he was tempted to pull Torkaz down into the water and see how he liked it. Sometimes Torkaz could just be so . . . Torkaz. Instead, Vatar retaliated by splashing water at the other three until they were all soaked and cackling with laughter. The cool water felt delicious after the sweaty heat of the plains.

  A fish flashed silver between Ariad’s feet. For a while, the boys turned their attention to following the fish and trying to catch one with their hands. Trying to run after a particularly big fish, Daron tripped over a rock and discovered still more fascinating creatures underneath it. The boys left off chasing fish to turn over rocks. Vatar was so totally absorbed in studying the strange creatures that lived on the river bed, examining each new bug or fish with interest, that for a long time he paid no attention to his nagging feeling of unease.

  Vatar’s waterlogged boots slowed him down. The others were quicker in chasing after the fascinating water creatures. Well, there’s an easy way to fix that. Vatar climbed back onto the shore and sat down to pull off his boots. He stripped off his cotton tunic for good measure and laid them both out on a rock to dry in the sun. It wouldn’t take long in this heat.

  Now that he was no longer captivated by the river and its creatures, the vague feeling of danger grew again. As he turned to wade back into the river, Vatar stopped and looked around. He still couldn’t see anything even remotely threatening, but the feeling was too strong to ignore. “I think we should leave now.”

  “Tired already?” Torkaz answered. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

  He certainly couldn’t tell Torkaz why he really wanted to leave, but he had to try something. His stomach rumbled and he thought about the meatrolls in his saddlebags. “I’m hungry. Why don’t we go back up to the top of the bank and eat?”

  Daron and Ariad turned at that and started splashing back toward the beach.

  “Yeah, I’m hungry, too,” Daron said.

  Torkaz waded out farther. “Go if you want. I’m not keeping you. But I’m staying until I’m done exploring.”

  Vatar had had just about enough of Torkaz’s superior attitude. “Fine, then.”

  He turned to grab his wet tunic and his boots. And froze. A sound like all the lions of the plains roaring at once filled the river canyon, echoing off the banks. Impossible. His senses told him there were no lions within miles. But there was no arguing with that roar. Vatar dropped his clothes and sprinted for the bank. He grabbed the tree root and scrambled up like a jackrabbit.

  He turned at the top to help pull Ariad and then Daron up. Torkaz splashed through the river after them. Vatar turned to look upriver. A wall of water as high as the banks careened around the curve, carrying horse-sized boulders and whole, uprooted trees along with it.

  Vatar had to force himself to look away and back to Torkaz. “Run!”

  Torkaz tried to run faster, but the knee-deep water prevented it. He tripped over one of the stones they’d overturned in their explorations. Vatar looked back upriver. There was time. There had to be. He took a deep breath and reached for the tree root to swing back down.

  Daron caught his arm. “You can’t. You’ll be killed.”

  “We can’t just leave Torkaz—”

  “He’s up!” Ariad said.

  Vatar and Daron turned. Torkaz was on his feet, blood dripping from a cut on his forehead, and struggling toward the bank. Vatar threw himself on the ground and leaned out to help his friend. Daron and Ariad each grabbed one of Vatar’s legs to steady him.

  Torkaz jumped for the tree root and missed. Vatar leaned farther out to grab Torkaz’s arm. All three boys started to pull. Torkaz’s feet scrabbled at the steep bank, trying to push himself higher. Between them, Torkaz’s shoulders were just about level with the top of the bank when the water hit. The rushing water pulled at Torkaz, but Vatar tightened his grip, refusing to let go. Torkaz grabbed hold of the tree root with his free hand.

  They were going to make it. “Pull!” Vatar screamed.

  For a moment, Torkaz hung there. The water dragged him out so that his body was horizontal to the ground. All of Vatar’s body felt stretched to the breaking point as Daron and Ariad fought to haul them both in. The current was too strong. The best Vatar could do was to hold on for dear life.

  A rock propelled by the rushing wave of water struck Torkaz in the head. The boy went limp and his grip on the tree root loosened. Now the only thing keeping him from being swept down river with the flood was Vatar’s hold. Vatar felt as if his arms were being pulled out of their sockets. Torkaz acted as a weight, dragging Vatar farther out into the river. The rough stone of the riverbank scraped his bare skin. His hands were clenched so tightly around Torkaz’s arm he could feel the bone. Still, he would not let go.

  A tree branch as big around as his thigh struck Vatar in the side, driving the air out of his lungs. The impact numbed Vatar’s arm and hand. Torkaz slipped out of Vatar’s grasp, tumbling downriver among the boulders and trees. “No!” The cry sent a flash of agony through his chest.

  At the release of the extra weight, Daron and Ariad fell back, dragging Vatar with them. With his good arm braced against a tree trunk, Vatar tried to get to his knees. He nearly passed out from the pain in his arm and side. His breath came in shallow pants.

  “Stay still, Vatar. You’ll only make it worse,” Ariad said, coming to his side. Tears traced unheeded down his cheeks. He sniffed and looked up at Daron. “He’s hurt bad.”

  Daron quivered all over. “What do we do?” His voice was shaky.

  “You’re a better rider than me,” Ariad said. “Ride back to the village for help. And get them to start a search for Torkaz. I’ll do what I can here.”

  Daron nodded once and drew in a breath that seemed to steady him. He ran off to where they’d left the horses.

  Chapter 2: Wounds

  Vatar woke in the dark. He knew he was inside a hut because by the smell of the sod and the faint, sweet scent of the grass mat underneath him. His left arm was splinted and bandages were wrapped tight around his chest. He didn’t remember reaching the village. The last thing he remembered was the riverbank.

  Torkaz! He had to tell someone about Torkaz so they could send help. No, wait. Daron would have done that, right? He had to make sure.

  Vatar tried to sit up and draw breath to call out. Instead he gasped at the pain in his side. A hand pressed him back against the mat.

  “Lie quiet. You’ve got a couple of broken ribs to go along with the broken arm.”

  The voice was his mother’s from somewhere behind him. He tried to move so he could see her, but her hand restrained him. Instead, she opened a vent behind his head, to let a little light into the hut.

  His sister, Kiara, sat, quiet and scared, against the wall. Vatar felt a rush of relief that she hadn’t been with them at the rive
r. Half their age, she still so often tried to join the boys’ excursions. She’d have been even more daring and stubborn than Torkaz. Fear was not something he was used to seeing on her face.

  Mother moved to sit in front of him. He could see the worry in her eyes. She’d been watching over him. Vatar felt a hard lump in the pit of his stomach. Mother never fussed over his injuries.

  “Torkaz . . .”

  “The men are out looking for him.”

  “I should be—”

  Mother shook her head and gave him one of her stern looks. “The only thing you could possibly do out there is pass out again. Then one of the men would have to leave the search to bring you back. You’ll help more by staying here and healing.”

  “But—”

  Mother heaved a great sigh. “Are you thirsty?”

  He was. He hadn’t thought about it until she asked. Vatar nodded. She propped him up just a little and held a cup to his lips so he could drink. He expected water, but this was sweet. Where had she gotten fruit juice at this season? As his eyes started to close, he realized the truth. Pauver juice. And a pretty strong mixture from the way his body had suddenly gone limp. He started to protest, but sleep overtook him.

  ~

  Vatar struggled up from a dream—a nightmare—of a towering wall of water rushing down on him and blinked at the hide roof of the hut. Some kind of noisy uproar outside the hut had waked him. Raised voices, not thundering water. It took a considerable clamor to penetrate the walls of a sod hut. Kiara was gone, but Mother still sat next to him.

  “Wha—?” he tried to ask around what felt like a wad of cotton in his mouth, but was really just his dry tongue.

  Mother reached out to keep him from trying to sit up. “I don’t know. Stay quiet.”

  The hide covering the door to the hut was thrust aside. Kiara stumbled in as if she’d been pushed. Pa followed her, ducking his head as he stepped down into the sod hut.

  Pa’s eyes scanned Vatar, taking in the bandages and the bruises, which were turning a dramatic shade of purple. Then he turned to Mother. “They’ve found Torkaz.”

  Mother stood up and reached for her healer’s bag, but Pa put a hand out to restrain her, shaking his head.