[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
undoing.
Page 152
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Being free of self-doubt was a new experience. It pleased him.
He went roaming through the soul of Legate Cervenka, his quarry knowledge of
Nieroda and the Toal. The Legate knew very little. He had been seized during
the night, by Red Brothers, while directing a militia regiment in
counterattack against Ahlert's Imperial Brigade. He had been spirited into the
Raftery. He had been unconscious, so did not know how he had been taken
through the Ventimiglian lines. He had wakened possessed by the demon. Nieroda
had handed him a Toal sword. The lights had gone out again. He had wakened
back at his command post, under instructions to break the siege of the
Raftery.
That siege seemed to bother Nieroda. She had revealed herself in order to
press the counterattack.
The imminence of conflict between Ahlert and the Swordbearer had caused her to
rush Toal Cervenka to the Mindak's aid, judging him to be the weaker man. The
Toal had arrived too late.
Two thousand weary survivors of the battle for the Maurath assembled on the
Causeway. The rest Gathrid left to oversee the Ventimiglian withdrawal.
A Colonel Bliebel, who had been an intimate of Count Cuneo, protested the
force's weakness arid exhaustion.
"I just want you to keep order, Sir. I'll handle Nie-roda and her devils
myself. Theis. My horse."
Ever efficient, Rogala had the animal ready.
Gathrid mounted, started toward Sartain. He searched the sky, wondering what
had become of the flyers. Only their dead remained.
It won't be long before Theis draws his dagger, he thought. The dwarf had
developed a sudden slyness, an evasiveness, which suggested thoughts he did
not want to reveal. Might Suchara be ready to concede this round to Bachesta?
She might fear losing the Sword more than she disliked losing the Game.
He surveyed Rogala from the edge of his vision. The dwarf was watching him
intently, nervously.
Should he disarm the man?
No. That would make him more dangerous. Suchara would provide another blade,
in an inconspicuous time and place. And Rogala himself would become less
predictable.
A committee from the Imperial Palace met them at the Causeway's end. They bore
instructions from Elgar, who wanted the Raftery relieved. Despite the efforts
of the Brotherhood and Anderle's militia, Ahlert's Imperial Brigade remained
solidly entrenched.
The easterners were aware of their Mindak's demise. But their commander,
Tracka, felt obligated to fulfill his final charge. He had abandoned all his
other operations to concentrate on rooting out Nieroda and the Dead Captains.
Gathrid glared at the messengers suspiciously. He did not have to be schooled
in the treacherous ways of the Great Old Ones to see that, on at least two
levels, it was in Elgar's interest to let the Ventimiglians reduce the
Raftery. They would settle a personal score with Gerdes Mu-lenex and rid
Page 153
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Anderle of the long-standing problem of the Brotherhood. An eastern victory
would devour the leaders of the Orders.
He merely nodded to the messengers, then led the surviving Guards Oldani
toward Galen.
"Peace," he told the first Ventimiglian patrol to cross his path. He waved his
followers back out of earshot. "Please inform Thaumaturge-General Tracka that
the Swordbearer would like to confer."
He was, it developed, not unexpected. Tracka arrived within fifteen minutes.
Gathrid had met the brigadier but had seldom spoken to him. Their paths had
crossed at both the Karato and Kacalief. Tracka respected the Power Gathrid
represented, but did not fear him. Ahlert had been known to remark that his
leading commander had only one weakness. He feared nothing at all.
"You fought well here, General," Gathrid said. "I'd say brilliantly,
considering your resources. We've been both enemies and allies. I want to
suggest an armistice now, while there's yet something to be saved."
Tracka, like many men of his class, physically resembled Ahlert. Gathrid had
little deja vu flutters while speaking with him.
Tracka frowned. He was the most taciturn of the eastern commanders. He
communicated more by gesture and expression than by the spoken word.
"I know your orders, General. I commend you for trying to execute them. But I
think it's time you passed this task on. The Western Army is headed home. The
wives of the men of the Imperial Brigade await them just beyond Covingont."
"Vermin infest the Raftery."
"Is that your opinion, or just the Mindak's?"
Tracka's face became as lifeless as that of a corpse.
"Mine, Swordbearer. The place must be scourged and scoured."
"I'll go along with that. The point I want to make is, your people don't have
to do it. I'll handle it. I owe the Mindak that much."
Tracka shrugged. "I haven't been relieved of my obligation."
Gathrid felt Ahlert fuming inside him. "Damn all stubborn men!" he growled.
"Can't you compromise? To save the lives of good soldiers?" [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl exclamation.htw.pl
undoing.
Page 152
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Being free of self-doubt was a new experience. It pleased him.
He went roaming through the soul of Legate Cervenka, his quarry knowledge of
Nieroda and the Toal. The Legate knew very little. He had been seized during
the night, by Red Brothers, while directing a militia regiment in
counterattack against Ahlert's Imperial Brigade. He had been spirited into the
Raftery. He had been unconscious, so did not know how he had been taken
through the Ventimiglian lines. He had wakened possessed by the demon. Nieroda
had handed him a Toal sword. The lights had gone out again. He had wakened
back at his command post, under instructions to break the siege of the
Raftery.
That siege seemed to bother Nieroda. She had revealed herself in order to
press the counterattack.
The imminence of conflict between Ahlert and the Swordbearer had caused her to
rush Toal Cervenka to the Mindak's aid, judging him to be the weaker man. The
Toal had arrived too late.
Two thousand weary survivors of the battle for the Maurath assembled on the
Causeway. The rest Gathrid left to oversee the Ventimiglian withdrawal.
A Colonel Bliebel, who had been an intimate of Count Cuneo, protested the
force's weakness arid exhaustion.
"I just want you to keep order, Sir. I'll handle Nie-roda and her devils
myself. Theis. My horse."
Ever efficient, Rogala had the animal ready.
Gathrid mounted, started toward Sartain. He searched the sky, wondering what
had become of the flyers. Only their dead remained.
It won't be long before Theis draws his dagger, he thought. The dwarf had
developed a sudden slyness, an evasiveness, which suggested thoughts he did
not want to reveal. Might Suchara be ready to concede this round to Bachesta?
She might fear losing the Sword more than she disliked losing the Game.
He surveyed Rogala from the edge of his vision. The dwarf was watching him
intently, nervously.
Should he disarm the man?
No. That would make him more dangerous. Suchara would provide another blade,
in an inconspicuous time and place. And Rogala himself would become less
predictable.
A committee from the Imperial Palace met them at the Causeway's end. They bore
instructions from Elgar, who wanted the Raftery relieved. Despite the efforts
of the Brotherhood and Anderle's militia, Ahlert's Imperial Brigade remained
solidly entrenched.
The easterners were aware of their Mindak's demise. But their commander,
Tracka, felt obligated to fulfill his final charge. He had abandoned all his
other operations to concentrate on rooting out Nieroda and the Dead Captains.
Gathrid glared at the messengers suspiciously. He did not have to be schooled
in the treacherous ways of the Great Old Ones to see that, on at least two
levels, it was in Elgar's interest to let the Ventimiglians reduce the
Raftery. They would settle a personal score with Gerdes Mu-lenex and rid
Page 153
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Anderle of the long-standing problem of the Brotherhood. An eastern victory
would devour the leaders of the Orders.
He merely nodded to the messengers, then led the surviving Guards Oldani
toward Galen.
"Peace," he told the first Ventimiglian patrol to cross his path. He waved his
followers back out of earshot. "Please inform Thaumaturge-General Tracka that
the Swordbearer would like to confer."
He was, it developed, not unexpected. Tracka arrived within fifteen minutes.
Gathrid had met the brigadier but had seldom spoken to him. Their paths had
crossed at both the Karato and Kacalief. Tracka respected the Power Gathrid
represented, but did not fear him. Ahlert had been known to remark that his
leading commander had only one weakness. He feared nothing at all.
"You fought well here, General," Gathrid said. "I'd say brilliantly,
considering your resources. We've been both enemies and allies. I want to
suggest an armistice now, while there's yet something to be saved."
Tracka, like many men of his class, physically resembled Ahlert. Gathrid had
little deja vu flutters while speaking with him.
Tracka frowned. He was the most taciturn of the eastern commanders. He
communicated more by gesture and expression than by the spoken word.
"I know your orders, General. I commend you for trying to execute them. But I
think it's time you passed this task on. The Western Army is headed home. The
wives of the men of the Imperial Brigade await them just beyond Covingont."
"Vermin infest the Raftery."
"Is that your opinion, or just the Mindak's?"
Tracka's face became as lifeless as that of a corpse.
"Mine, Swordbearer. The place must be scourged and scoured."
"I'll go along with that. The point I want to make is, your people don't have
to do it. I'll handle it. I owe the Mindak that much."
Tracka shrugged. "I haven't been relieved of my obligation."
Gathrid felt Ahlert fuming inside him. "Damn all stubborn men!" he growled.
"Can't you compromise? To save the lives of good soldiers?" [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]