EXCERPT: Nuermar's Last Witch

Maybe you've read this posted elsewhere, but I still think it's one of my favourite scenes...

By the fourth night, she was captive to her fatigued petulance, and as the sun set, she scrambled from the bushes, spoiling for a fight.

She stalked over to the fireside, and dropped gracelessly to the dirt. She took the mug of tea that Joran offered her, but she met his evening salutations with little more than a grunt. Maelis’s mind buzzed with angry, ugly thoughts, as though everything came to crash in on her at once and Joran’s pleasantries and attempts at soothing only made her feel worse.

“Is something wrong, Maelis?”

“You tell me,” she growled. “My village was destroyed, my grandmother was murdered, I had to leave Ke’sair’s when it was beginning to feel like home, I’m on an impossible quest and I’m traveling with a man who wanted to kill me!” She glared at him, aiming her frustrations at the face across the flames. “Tell me how you would feel!”

Maelis flung her cup at Joran and then kicked at the fire, sending up a shower of sparks.

Joran rose, as much to defend himself as from anger. He pointed a warning finger at her and shouted, “Stop it!”

“What if I don’t?” she snarled. “Are you going to kill me, like you did the people in my village?”

“That’s not fair, Maelis.”

“Calling you a ‘killer’ isn’t fair?” Her words dripped venom. “Why not? It’s the truth.” She looked at him with searing green eyes. “Killer! Killer! Killer!”

Joran closed the distance between them, bristling, his fists balled up at his sides. He grabbed Maelis by her tunic collar and raised the other hand as if to slap her.

He inhaled. She exhaled.

“Killer,” she growled one last time.

There was no hesitation.

Her taunts had found their mark in a man easily given to violence; his hand arced down in a vicious swing. A resounding crack stung them both as Joran’s callused hand struck Maelis’ cheek. As soon as he slapped her, he regretted it. He saw the wounded look in her eyes and reached out to console her.

“The old nature lies just beneath the surface,” Maelis whispered. “And you expect me to trust you?”

copyright 2006