[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
infiltrators.
"On the morrow, at dawn, begin the feint," Jathelle instructed. She had
conferred with Tyrus on how to delude Vraduir. "Light large campfires tonight
and every night after, to trick the enemy wizard. Let him see you assembled
and moving to the northwest."
The general looked suspiciously at Tyrus. "Wizards! And this enemy wizard,
will he not attack us, using our campfires against us?"
"No, my Lord General." Tyrus took care to give the older man all his proper
titles, conscious of his touchy pride. "He will be spellcasting and conjuring.
Do not be offended, my Lord General, but he will probably think your army is
beneath his notice."
"Beneath notice, are we? Then we shall give him cause to pay attention to us!
Ai!" After many seasons of peace, the warlord and his troopmen were restless
and welcomed this chance for action. If chastising the barbarians would help
save LaSirin Ilissa, so much the better.
Like uncle and niece, both adept at campaigns, the general and Jathelle
decided on tactics and supplies.
Wise to the dangers of northern climate beyond the reach of the warm current,
they arranged for extra horses and provender for both humans
and animals, for forage would be sparse or nonexistent in the lands they must
dare. Surreptitiously, the supplies were sent to the place where the
infiltrators waited, hidden in the forest at the edge of Drita Meadows.
Jathelle followed them shortly. She had changed her ruined hawking costume for
frontier garb, as had the men, and she came to join them, leading not her
finely bred stallion but a sturdy brute more suited to the arduous trek.
Tyrus watched her coming into the woods, relishing the sight. She wore the
same stained fur and leather garments she had when he first met her.
She had no maids or servitors then, when she had escaped her royal duties for
a while. None attended her now, either. Her companion of that game, Hissa, was
captive. The game was ugly and real, and Jathelle's expression was set. The
necklace of wolves' teeth was her only adornment and seemed to warn of her
grim determination "in this quest. To Tyrus, she was more stunning than she
had been in her finest gowns. Her hair was plaited and her boots plain, tough
hide, well worn. The sword she was fitting into her baldric looked to be of
finest Krantin steel. With a long stride, she entered the grove.
"We are ready," she said simply, gathering her reins, preparing to mount.
"There is not much time left to the day," Lieutenant Utaigh warned politely.
He was an earnest young soldier but regarded the sky in a canny way, proving
he had some experience in upcountry fighting.
Page 86
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Jathelle did not pause, swinging up on her horse and taking the lead line of
some of the animals packed with food and extra arms and clothing.
"Then we should not delay. I intend to make campsite at Three Forks by
nightfall."
The Lieutenant saluted. He darted a calculating glance at the courtiers and
Tyrus and Erejzan, as if doubting their stamina. "Ai, LaRenya. It is ten
measures, and easy riding."
"Eleven," Jathelle corrected him. "And I want to make twenty each day
henceforth, at least. That should bring us to Couredh's border within a
Five-Day. You see, bandit lord, you do not lead us where we know not the
land," she said, raising her eyebrows at Rof.
He scowled fiercely. "You do not know it as well as I, LaRenya. If you
travel as you would, there is no going boldly and marching with flags flying.
I will teach you how to hide your colors. As you say, no delay. Have at it!
Harshaa& " and he slapped his mount with his coiled whip, sending the beast
lunging down the thicketed trail. Jathelle rode hard in his wake and the other
men scrambled onto the horses, hurrying after them. In less than a
candle-mark, they had left the tragedy-marked Meadows far behind and were
moving deep into the heavily-forested uplands of the queen's preserves, aiming
north steadily, toward their goal the Death
God's realm.
X
Into the Barren Country
Jathelle had set a punishing pace, soon over-taking Rof and leading the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl freetocraft.keep.pl
infiltrators.
"On the morrow, at dawn, begin the feint," Jathelle instructed. She had
conferred with Tyrus on how to delude Vraduir. "Light large campfires tonight
and every night after, to trick the enemy wizard. Let him see you assembled
and moving to the northwest."
The general looked suspiciously at Tyrus. "Wizards! And this enemy wizard,
will he not attack us, using our campfires against us?"
"No, my Lord General." Tyrus took care to give the older man all his proper
titles, conscious of his touchy pride. "He will be spellcasting and conjuring.
Do not be offended, my Lord General, but he will probably think your army is
beneath his notice."
"Beneath notice, are we? Then we shall give him cause to pay attention to us!
Ai!" After many seasons of peace, the warlord and his troopmen were restless
and welcomed this chance for action. If chastising the barbarians would help
save LaSirin Ilissa, so much the better.
Like uncle and niece, both adept at campaigns, the general and Jathelle
decided on tactics and supplies.
Wise to the dangers of northern climate beyond the reach of the warm current,
they arranged for extra horses and provender for both humans
and animals, for forage would be sparse or nonexistent in the lands they must
dare. Surreptitiously, the supplies were sent to the place where the
infiltrators waited, hidden in the forest at the edge of Drita Meadows.
Jathelle followed them shortly. She had changed her ruined hawking costume for
frontier garb, as had the men, and she came to join them, leading not her
finely bred stallion but a sturdy brute more suited to the arduous trek.
Tyrus watched her coming into the woods, relishing the sight. She wore the
same stained fur and leather garments she had when he first met her.
She had no maids or servitors then, when she had escaped her royal duties for
a while. None attended her now, either. Her companion of that game, Hissa, was
captive. The game was ugly and real, and Jathelle's expression was set. The
necklace of wolves' teeth was her only adornment and seemed to warn of her
grim determination "in this quest. To Tyrus, she was more stunning than she
had been in her finest gowns. Her hair was plaited and her boots plain, tough
hide, well worn. The sword she was fitting into her baldric looked to be of
finest Krantin steel. With a long stride, she entered the grove.
"We are ready," she said simply, gathering her reins, preparing to mount.
"There is not much time left to the day," Lieutenant Utaigh warned politely.
He was an earnest young soldier but regarded the sky in a canny way, proving
he had some experience in upcountry fighting.
Page 86
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Jathelle did not pause, swinging up on her horse and taking the lead line of
some of the animals packed with food and extra arms and clothing.
"Then we should not delay. I intend to make campsite at Three Forks by
nightfall."
The Lieutenant saluted. He darted a calculating glance at the courtiers and
Tyrus and Erejzan, as if doubting their stamina. "Ai, LaRenya. It is ten
measures, and easy riding."
"Eleven," Jathelle corrected him. "And I want to make twenty each day
henceforth, at least. That should bring us to Couredh's border within a
Five-Day. You see, bandit lord, you do not lead us where we know not the
land," she said, raising her eyebrows at Rof.
He scowled fiercely. "You do not know it as well as I, LaRenya. If you
travel as you would, there is no going boldly and marching with flags flying.
I will teach you how to hide your colors. As you say, no delay. Have at it!
Harshaa& " and he slapped his mount with his coiled whip, sending the beast
lunging down the thicketed trail. Jathelle rode hard in his wake and the other
men scrambled onto the horses, hurrying after them. In less than a
candle-mark, they had left the tragedy-marked Meadows far behind and were
moving deep into the heavily-forested uplands of the queen's preserves, aiming
north steadily, toward their goal the Death
God's realm.
X
Into the Barren Country
Jathelle had set a punishing pace, soon over-taking Rof and leading the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]