The Angaran Chronicles: An Ulterior Motive by Benjamin Agar (top 10 novels to read .txt) 📖

scream which eclipsed the soothing, soft snapping and crackle and pop of the fire.

 

Fright coursed her entire being, fright which was replaced by horrid fear, fear which clutched her heart. Another followed that scream and another, each more pained and agonised than the last along with constant crashing and snarling that was terrifyingly familiar. All of it was coming from what Emilia thought may have been the east. Despite the terror tearing at her and the agony of her body she still managed to climb to her feet and started stumbling toward the sounds.

 

 

Her concern for Anargrin outdid the instinct to flee and the fatigue threatening to overwhelm her.

 

She must have walked for only a minute or two, but it felt like hours. She stumbled through the trees, clutching at everyone to keep her feet. All the while the screams and snarls and growls kept going and going and growing louder. It set her teeth on edge and her courage to waver.

 

Finally, she found what she recognised as the road from before and what she saw made her stop and reel in horror. What had once been a large convoy of horse-driven carriages, was now shattered, smashed, some on their sides and some set ablaze. The intense heat forced her to cover her face.

 

Everywhere, there were corpses, dozens upon dozens of them. Most torn into pieces, but Emilia still recognised the majority wore the armour of the soldiers of Camaria. Some in the robes of the priests of Jaroai. A few were the black, malformed shapes of werewolves.

 

The stench of blood was overwhelming. The sudden sound of snarling and growling drew her attention, and she saw much to her relief, Anargrin. He was fighting three werewolves at once. Anargrin was like water as he weaved and wound through their savage, constant biting and clawing. All three were twice as tall as him, but still, he fought, stabbing and slicing with the same silver sword he'd used to defend her so many days ago. Emilia stood in awe, but the fight was too fast, too furious for her to follow, even if her eyes hadn't been so tired and hazy. The fight only lasted a few seconds more, as it spread the width and breadth of the destruction. It finished with the werewolves dead and Anargrin standing, unscathed — his back to her.

 

'Emilia,' he said without turning. 'I'm sorry you had to see that. I'm impressed that you could even get up; let alone find your way here.'

 

'Why?' was all she could stammer.

 

He turned to her, whipped the blood from his blade and sheathed it. 'This was my mission, Emilia. My true mission. So now we can finally go to Valandri and get you the help you need. This was a church sanctioned convoy, sent to attack and burn down a town they deemed heretical, south of here. It was my mission to stop them, but I couldn't do it alone, no...'

 

She couldn't find any words.

 

He sighed and approached her over the pile of corpses. 'Please Emilia, do not think ill of me. Think about this, I managed to complete my mission and at the same time rid us of the werewolves chasing us; they will no longer rampage through the countryside. No longer claim more lives, and the villagers will be spared from the church's wrath now we have time to evacuate them to Valandri.'

 

Anargrin smiled, and it chilled her every pore.

 

'Without you, Emilia, this wouldn't have been possible,' he said. 'Without you, I wouldn't have been able to lure the werewolves here so they could do what I could not. So again, I thank you. I thank you from the bottom of my heart.'

 

Extract from A Poor Girl

 

After defeating a vampire, the intense, ruthless Hunter Jelcine comes across a strange little girl...

 

 

'This is the place,' said Jelcine and pointed. 'The girl emerged from the underbrush, there.'

 

The priest stroked his beard as he studied their surroundings: the old gravel road, the brilliant trees which hung with shining green leaves enclosed its sides like walls.

 

'Did you look where she might have come from?' he said.

 

Jelcine frowned. 'No, I am afraid not; I was too busy hurrying the girl to a doctor so she wouldn't die.'

 

The priest frowned back. 'Your sarcasm is not appreciated, Hunter. I was merely asking.'

 

'Yeah, well. It was a stupid question, priest.'

 

He sighed. 'You are not the first Hunter to have come here since I became the priest for this town. He was a dwarf, and he was overtly hostile toward me as well. Do all of your kind hate us who represent the faithful?'

 

'Is that a rhetorical question?'

 

He glared at her. 'If so then why do you? I do not understand.'

 

Jelcine rolled her eyes. 'Right now, that is not important. What is important we find the girl's father and find out what did this to them.'

 

He studied her for a few weighted seconds before sighing again. 'Yes, you are correct. But I will find out why. One day.'

 

'Yeah, good, you do that,' said Jelcine.

 

She walked past the priest and to the edge of the path. She knelt and studied the trail of broken branches and blood.

 

'Can you track her?' said the priest.

 

Jelcine looked over her shoulder at him.

 

'Yes, I am pretty sure I can,' she sighed.

 

'One thing,' said the priest ignoring her sarcastic tone. 'How did she get out here?'

 

Jelcine shrugged again, unsure where the priest was going with this.

 

'The nearest road leaving the town is fifteen kilometres south-east of here. How did she get so far?' he said.

 

'Maybe. Whatever it was that attacked them lured them off the road?' said Jelcine. 'Or forced them there, at gunpoint, or whatnot?'

 

'Do you see any sign of anyone else having moved through the underbrush? Where is their vehicle?'

 

Jelcine looked again.

 

'No, just the girl's tracks. They could have been stopped a few kilometres down the road, though.'

 

'You think you can follow it to the source?'

 

Jelcine didn't dignify that with a response. While she wasn't the best tracker in the Hunters, even a fucking neophyte could follow the trail.

 

She stood up and started into the forest.

 

'Wait. Wait,' the priest said, following Jelcine.

 

'Oh, I'm surprised you're willing to get your fancy robes dirty.'

 

'I suggest that you watch the track, I'll extend my sense for any presences ahead.'

 

'Just be careful not to fall on your face,' said Jelcine. 'Because I'm not helping you if you do.'

 

 

They were following the trail for a good ten minutes when the priest stopped.

 

'I sense a presence, about fifteen metres ahead,' he said in a whisper.

 

Jelcine turned to him, unsurprised the priest had sensed it before her. Her skill as detecting auras was below par due to her focusing more on the physical rather than magical aspect of being a Hunter.

 

'With magical potential? Normal?'

 

'Normal,' said the priest. 'Moving, in a hurried pace, back and forth.'

 

Jelcine raised an eyebrow. 'That it?'

 

'Yes, unless there is someone or something near which can hide their magical aura,' said the priest, it was impossible to miss the accusation in his tone.

 

'Hmm, strange. Maybe you should stay here. Let me go first; you make so much noise I'm surprised whoever this is, didn't hear you from miles away.'

 

The priest's beard creased, and he groaned. 'Yes, you are correct, as much as it pains me to admit it. Part of the learning toward priesthood is not how to move quietly through under-brush, I am afraid.'

 

'Oh, really? I would never have guessed.'

 

'Yes, yes, there is no need for more sarcasm. Go, but do not be afraid to call if you need my aid, Hunter.'

 

With a nod, Jelcine melted into the shadows.

The first chapter will be uploaded on Monday the 20th of May!

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Text: Ben Agar
Publication Date: 04-27-2019

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