[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
"It will," a Hostler growled. "Tomorrow." "Don't speak of tomorrow." Hugh
snapped. His mouth tightened in chagrin. "Damn! I'm doing it too, now." He
looked about him, glowering. "We need a song."
The room fell suddenly silent. They all knew which song he meant-and they also
knew the penalty for singing it. Death. Instant.
Dirk raised his head and looked slowly about the room, saw the naked craving in
each face, but also the fear that overlaid it.
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Click here to buy
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So slowly, softly, Dirk began to chant the Lay.
When DeCade was young, he fell in love, As even churls may do;
His lass was bonny, bright, and gay; For them the world seemed new.
Heads came up slowly, all around the room. They stared at him, startled, a little
shocked. Then the hunger rose in their faces, and their eyes fastened on him,
greedily.
Dirk sang on:
When you take joy, remember priceEach pleasure must be paid.
Before they wed, the charge came dueA Lord espied the maid.
He sang the whole tale-how DeCade had wakened at midnight, hearing the
screams of his love, had caught up his staff and bolted from his but to fall on the
band of Soldiers who were stealing her away-a huge bear of a man, nearly seven
feet tall, three hundred pounds of silent homicidal muscle, with a hardwood
quarterstaff as heavy as a bar of iron, laying about him in fury, not counting the
tally of dead.
The leader of the party held a knife to the girl's throat, and DeCade broke the
man's skull and spilled his brains. But the leader was quick-he sliced her throat as
he fell-and DeCade stood, numbed, staring at his love, lying dead in a pool of her
own blood, all trace of pity and forgiveness pouring out of him as the blood
poured out of her. Then, only when she lay emptied before him and only a hollow,
frozen void remained within him, did he turn his eyes to the leader, and realize it
was the Lord's son.
So Dirk sang the tale; and Gar looked down, staring at him as though he were
insane. Dirk took a breath and took up the ballad again.
DeCade fled to the forest that night and hid for some time, living on poached
meat and killing any Lord or Soldier foolish enough to come in under the trees,
alone or in company.
And, finally, the outlaws found him and took him for their leader.
Then churls began to escape to the forest-a few at first, then more and more,
hundreds, thousands, who never would have thought of escape before, risking
their lives to come join the Lordkiller in the forest.
And the Wizard found him, too-some unnamed genius with magical powers, or so
the legend said, who had appeared out of nowhere and given DeCade an
enchanted staff. With it, DeCade took on a small army that came to clean out the
forest-a band of a hundred-and he slew them all, by himself, alone.
The word was brought to the King, in his castle at Albemarle. At last, he realized
that a vast churl army lay hidden in the huge forest that was nearly at his
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Click here to buy
Click here to buy
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doorstep. So he summoned his Lords from the length and breadth of the kingdom
and their armies with them, to raze the forest, if they had to, to wipe out the
outlaws.
But DeCade didn't wait for His Majesty. On the Wizard's advice, he marched out
of the forest with a horde at his back, to storm the nearest castle and take it, by
surprise and sheer weight of numbers. He armed his men and moved on, his
army swelling into the tens of thousands as he marched. He stormed and took
castle after castle-until the King moved out of Albermarle.
The King marched out with a hundred thousand well-armed Soldiers at his back,
and five thousand Lords with laser rifles to watch the Soldiers. He met DeCade at
the field of Blancoeur and raised a clamor that clawed at the sky and brought
vultures down; for, at the end of the battle, DeCade retreated, leaving a third of
his men dead or dying. The King marched after him and met him again at the
foothills of Mont Rouge. DeCade lost half his men before night; but darkness and
a heavy overcast saved him, covering his retreat up the mountain to
Champmortre, the bone-white, sunbleached plateau high in the mountains near
Albemarle. There he stationed his remaining men in a human parapet, armed
with spears, bows, and a few captured laser rifles. The King, in a rage, marched
up against him, and the churls mowed his army down-till the archers ran out of
arrows and the rifle power-packs ran dry.
Then the King scaled the heights and drove DeCade back to the center of the bald
plain with his men grouped around him, fighting a last, desperate, doomed battle
with no quarter given or asked, knives and swords against swords and lasers,
each churl thinking only of how many Soldiers and Lords he could take with him,
killing and dying in an orgy of blood-lust and vengeance, till the setting sun threw
the long shadow of a ring of dead churls on the plain; and, within the ring only
DeCade and the Wizard stood alive, back to back, with a circle of King's men [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl exclamation.htw.pl
"It will," a Hostler growled. "Tomorrow." "Don't speak of tomorrow." Hugh
snapped. His mouth tightened in chagrin. "Damn! I'm doing it too, now." He
looked about him, glowering. "We need a song."
The room fell suddenly silent. They all knew which song he meant-and they also
knew the penalty for singing it. Death. Instant.
Dirk raised his head and looked slowly about the room, saw the naked craving in
each face, but also the fear that overlaid it.
a
a
T
T
n
n
s
s
F
F
f
f
o
o
D
D
r
r
P
P
m
m
Y
Y
e
e
Y
Y
r
r
B
B
2
2
.
.
B
B
A
A
Click here to buy
Click here to buy
w
w
m
m
w
w
o
o
w
w
c
c
.
.
.
.
A
A
Y
Y
B
B
Y
Y
B
B
r r
So slowly, softly, Dirk began to chant the Lay.
When DeCade was young, he fell in love, As even churls may do;
His lass was bonny, bright, and gay; For them the world seemed new.
Heads came up slowly, all around the room. They stared at him, startled, a little
shocked. Then the hunger rose in their faces, and their eyes fastened on him,
greedily.
Dirk sang on:
When you take joy, remember priceEach pleasure must be paid.
Before they wed, the charge came dueA Lord espied the maid.
He sang the whole tale-how DeCade had wakened at midnight, hearing the
screams of his love, had caught up his staff and bolted from his but to fall on the
band of Soldiers who were stealing her away-a huge bear of a man, nearly seven
feet tall, three hundred pounds of silent homicidal muscle, with a hardwood
quarterstaff as heavy as a bar of iron, laying about him in fury, not counting the
tally of dead.
The leader of the party held a knife to the girl's throat, and DeCade broke the
man's skull and spilled his brains. But the leader was quick-he sliced her throat as
he fell-and DeCade stood, numbed, staring at his love, lying dead in a pool of her
own blood, all trace of pity and forgiveness pouring out of him as the blood
poured out of her. Then, only when she lay emptied before him and only a hollow,
frozen void remained within him, did he turn his eyes to the leader, and realize it
was the Lord's son.
So Dirk sang the tale; and Gar looked down, staring at him as though he were
insane. Dirk took a breath and took up the ballad again.
DeCade fled to the forest that night and hid for some time, living on poached
meat and killing any Lord or Soldier foolish enough to come in under the trees,
alone or in company.
And, finally, the outlaws found him and took him for their leader.
Then churls began to escape to the forest-a few at first, then more and more,
hundreds, thousands, who never would have thought of escape before, risking
their lives to come join the Lordkiller in the forest.
And the Wizard found him, too-some unnamed genius with magical powers, or so
the legend said, who had appeared out of nowhere and given DeCade an
enchanted staff. With it, DeCade took on a small army that came to clean out the
forest-a band of a hundred-and he slew them all, by himself, alone.
The word was brought to the King, in his castle at Albemarle. At last, he realized
that a vast churl army lay hidden in the huge forest that was nearly at his
a
a
T
T
n
n
s
s
F
F
f
f
o
o
D
D
r
r
P
P
m
m
Y
Y
e
e
Y
Y
r
r
B
B
2
2
.
.
B
B
A
A
Click here to buy
Click here to buy
w
w
m
m
w
w
o
o
w
w
c
c
.
.
.
.
A
A
Y
Y
B
B
Y
Y
B
B
r r
doorstep. So he summoned his Lords from the length and breadth of the kingdom
and their armies with them, to raze the forest, if they had to, to wipe out the
outlaws.
But DeCade didn't wait for His Majesty. On the Wizard's advice, he marched out
of the forest with a horde at his back, to storm the nearest castle and take it, by
surprise and sheer weight of numbers. He armed his men and moved on, his
army swelling into the tens of thousands as he marched. He stormed and took
castle after castle-until the King moved out of Albermarle.
The King marched out with a hundred thousand well-armed Soldiers at his back,
and five thousand Lords with laser rifles to watch the Soldiers. He met DeCade at
the field of Blancoeur and raised a clamor that clawed at the sky and brought
vultures down; for, at the end of the battle, DeCade retreated, leaving a third of
his men dead or dying. The King marched after him and met him again at the
foothills of Mont Rouge. DeCade lost half his men before night; but darkness and
a heavy overcast saved him, covering his retreat up the mountain to
Champmortre, the bone-white, sunbleached plateau high in the mountains near
Albemarle. There he stationed his remaining men in a human parapet, armed
with spears, bows, and a few captured laser rifles. The King, in a rage, marched
up against him, and the churls mowed his army down-till the archers ran out of
arrows and the rifle power-packs ran dry.
Then the King scaled the heights and drove DeCade back to the center of the bald
plain with his men grouped around him, fighting a last, desperate, doomed battle
with no quarter given or asked, knives and swords against swords and lasers,
each churl thinking only of how many Soldiers and Lords he could take with him,
killing and dying in an orgy of blood-lust and vengeance, till the setting sun threw
the long shadow of a ring of dead churls on the plain; and, within the ring only
DeCade and the Wizard stood alive, back to back, with a circle of King's men [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]