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because he d certainly tried to heal enough people in Westwind after discovering the innate talent. Did he fear that being labeled as a healer would force him to prove more? Or was it that he thought being a smith and engineer was more valuable& more prestigious? I m not sure& probably a combination of a lot of things. He eased himself down a step to follow Weryl as the toddler climbed down the steps. Nylan s eyes caught a movement, and he paused as the squat brown-bearded levy stepped toward Sylenia. She shook her head, her face set. Nylan s fingers reached for the blade at his hip, but relaxed as Tonsar strolled from the de facto barracks toward the woman. The levy backed away. The shadows did not hide what seemed to be a wide and shy smile from Sylenia as the subofficer neared. Tonsar seems well-meaning enough, for all the bluster. Nylan paused. Think we ought to talk to him about Sylenia? Like your engineer self-definition, his bluster protects him. And yes, we should. Do you know who that levy is? Tregva or Tregvo, something like that. He s been watching her. I told Tonsar, Ayrlyn said. He said that no one would bother her. Enyah! Weryl began to totter toward the well. The smith found himself walking after the boy and scooping him up. Let her be, young man. He lifted the boy to his shoulder and turned back toward the dwelling where he set Weryl on the stoop, seating himself so that his body and legs blocked the steps. Enyah? Later. Twilight or not, Nylan found his forehead dripping. Darkness, it s hot. These people really are descendants of the Old Rat demons. It s not even the hottest part of the summer, yet. The corners of Ayrlyn s mouth turned up in the dimness of the covered stoop. They think we re descendants of the ice angels, remember? Crazy universe& I don t think we ve found out how crazy, Ayrlyn said. Despite the heat, Nylan shivered at the certainty in her voice. LXXIV Page 167 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html FORNAL SAT ON the sole stool at the end of the trestle table, next to the mug and uncorked bottle of vinegary amber wine. He picked up the bottle and filled the mug. Hope this has fared better than the last. It should. Nylan had tried to sense the handful of wine bottles and had picked what felt the least disordered. After a swallow, Fornal wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Best of a bad lot. Too hot here for good wine. He took another swallow. You wanted to talk. On the bench across the table from the one on which the angels sat, Huruc and Lewa nodded in turn, the candle throwing exaggerated shadows of their motions on the blotched wall behind them. We should make Jirec our official camp, suggested Ayrlyn, taking a swallow of water from her mug. Even I know Jirec is not a good place for our camp, said Huruc. The stream is drying up, and die wells are brackish. Brackish, echoed Lewa. It is too close to the camp of the white demons. Say on, said Fornal mildly, refilling the mug before him. We build some large cookfires, spend a day or so there, clang a few chimes, and get our friends to come visit. And we give them a surprise party. Fornal and Lewa exchanged puzzled glances. Huruc and Nylan grinned. What sort of surprise? asked Fornal cautiously. We set up a trap. So far, we ve been fairly straightforward. Barbarians don t do sneaky things, Nylan explained. The Cyadorans know you wouldn t consider such a devious scheme. He wanted to add something to the effect that honor forbade it, but decided against pressing Fornal. If you wish to attempt such a& a scheme, Fornal finally said, I wish you and your levies well. He drained the mug in a single gulp-admirable restraint, Nylan suspected, for the young regent. At least he hadn t openly called it dishonorable, Nylan reflected as he answered. We should be able to kill more than a few if we set it up right. He smiled at Fornal. That way you will have fewer to face in open battle. His guts twisted- the order fields didn t like deception, not in him, anyway, and the discomfort was continually getting worse. I am becoming more glad that you fight for Lornth, Fornal said slowly. I do not like this dodging and plotting, but the white demons have not been honorable. While you undertake this, I will return to Clynya to raise more armsmen to replace those we have lost. I trust that will not be a problem? No, said Nylan. We will work to ensure you return to face fewer of the Cyadorans. We will have to gather a few things, like mattocks and shovels and picks, and I will have to forge a few items. Do what you must. Fornal picked up the bottle as he stood. This was almost decent, angels. He nodded stiffly. Good eve. Then he carried the bottle to his room. The door shut firmly. I must go. To the barracks. Lewa rose. Only after the other subofficer left did Huruc shake his head. You angels make them uncomfortable, he said in a low voice. Ser Fornal knows he must win, but he struggles against the old traditions. Lewa-he cannot see beyond what has always been. And what of you, Huruc? asked Nylan. The world is changing. A handful of women and a single mage have destroyed the mightiest gathering of armsmen in my lifetime. Three mighty white wizards perished. A smith and a mage takes a small heavy blade and disarms the mighty and apologizes for his skill. Huruc smiled ruefully. Yet& honor should serve men, not destroy them. He rose. I, too, must check my men. At the door, the armsman turned. I hope you are as successful against the white demons as you have been against Lornth. Then the subofficer disappeared into the darkness. I do, too, offered Nylan, watching the flicker of the candle change the size of Ayrlyn s shadow on the wall. Page 168 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html We will be. Then Ayrlyn s fingers reached across the table and twined with his. We can t do anything more tonight. Success or not, life is short. And Sylenia is meeting Tonsar in the old hayloft, and Weryl is asleep. Nylan squeezed her fingers in return. They rose, side by side, and eased toward the door to their room. The smith hoped that, later, he did not dream once more of trees filled with both order and chaos. His daytime existence had far too much of each& and yet& yet& he knew he needed to explore whatever the tree dream-or message- meant. He just didn t know when he had time. Later, Ayrlyn whispered. LXXV & AND SO IT came to pass that Ryba was the last of the angels to rule the heavens and the angel who set forth the Legend for all to heed. Yet Ryba did not wish the Legend to leave Westwind. For with the going forth of the prophet Relyn, who told all east of the mighty Westhorns about the Legend and the triumph of order, Ryba became more displeased, and called unto her all those of her guards. And from that day did the new angels accept no man full-grown, no matter how ill or disabled, leaving any man found in the domain of Westwind to make [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |
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