[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
going to come crawling up the stream bed. This one must have passed over the Sword once already on
her way upstream, and without noticing anything. Gelimer considered that he had hidden the Sword
well, and he hadn't been back to look at the place since doing so. For anyone to see him taking an
interest in that spot now might result in Farslayer's discovery. So, the Sword was going to have
to stay where it was.
Ah, but the poor innocent child! What a terrible situation to be in. What could he do for her?
file:///F|/rah/Fred%20Saberhagen/Saberhagen,%20...Lost%20Swords%204%20-%20Farslayer's%20Story.txt (69 of 111) [2/4/03 9:53:07 PM]
file:///F|/rah/Fred%20Saberhagen/Saberhagen,%20Fred%20-%20Lost%20Swords%204%20-%20Farslayer's%20Story.txt
Not until after he had climbed three quarters of the way back to his house, trudging slowly, did
it occur to the hermit that he might have escorted Black Pearl back down to the river. Well, too
late now to think of that. She had managed the uphill struggle somehow, and doubtless she could
manage going down.
Since he was no magician, it appeared to Gelimer that there was not much he could do for the
mermaid's benefit, except to offer her some probably foolish hope, and let her know at least that
she had a friend in the world.
As he was approaching his door, the hermit felt the demon's presence somewhere in the air, and
thought that this time it was passing closer than before.
Gelimer had not been back in his house for more than a quarter of an hour when something occurred
that drew him out of doors again.
The hermit had left both the inner and outer doors of his entrance standing open to the mild day,
and it was a peculiar wisp of sound that entered through the doorway to draw him out. The sound
was almost too faint to be heard at all, but there was a strangeness about it that caught at his
attention.
Listening, waiting for the sound to come again, Gelimer stood in the doorway of his small house.
He tasted the air, rubbed a hand over his bald head, and scanned the sky. A few times in his life,
a very few times and long ago, he had been able to see moving across the firmament some of the
powers that served the great magicians. But today he was able to see nothing magical in the sky,
nothing at all but a few clouds. He called for Geelong, thinking that if there were strange sounds
to be tracked down, the watchbeast would be very useful. But there was no response to the hermit's
call.
He was still loitering in his doorway when the strange sound came again, a high-pitched, briefly
sustained squealing. Something mechanical, the hermit thought now, a cartwheel needing grease
perhaps. Of course that couldn't be right, there were never any carts on these rough trails. But-
His concern, persistent and automatic, for the Sword drew him in the general direction of that
weapon's hiding place when he left the house. Gelimer called again for Geelong as he walked, and
he continued to listen for the strange noise to come again.
He had not walked forty meters from his door when a shift in the direction of the wind brought the
mysterious squealing sound to him more distinctly. It was a high-pitched whining, only
superficially mechanical. At bottom it was much more like the cry of some great animal in agony.
And at the same time he heard it, the hermit detected a new whiff of the demon's presence, which
reached him through none of the usual channels of the senses.
Ignoring the deep command of instinct that urged him to run away from that presence, Gelimer began
instead to run toward it. Toward the place from which the sound came also.
A hundred meters of running, moving horizontally along the great slope of the mountain, were
enough to bring him to a small patch or grove of stunted thorntrees. Trotting around to the far
side of this tall thicket, Gelimer came suddenly in sight of Geelong. The watchbeast had somehow
been nightmarishly elevated to twice or three times Gelimer's height above the ground, and all
four of his limbs were spread out and pinned on tough thorny branches. Geelong's head was twisted
to one side, whether voluntarily or not, so that he looked in the direction from which his master [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl exclamation.htw.pl
going to come crawling up the stream bed. This one must have passed over the Sword once already on
her way upstream, and without noticing anything. Gelimer considered that he had hidden the Sword
well, and he hadn't been back to look at the place since doing so. For anyone to see him taking an
interest in that spot now might result in Farslayer's discovery. So, the Sword was going to have
to stay where it was.
Ah, but the poor innocent child! What a terrible situation to be in. What could he do for her?
file:///F|/rah/Fred%20Saberhagen/Saberhagen,%20...Lost%20Swords%204%20-%20Farslayer's%20Story.txt (69 of 111) [2/4/03 9:53:07 PM]
file:///F|/rah/Fred%20Saberhagen/Saberhagen,%20Fred%20-%20Lost%20Swords%204%20-%20Farslayer's%20Story.txt
Not until after he had climbed three quarters of the way back to his house, trudging slowly, did
it occur to the hermit that he might have escorted Black Pearl back down to the river. Well, too
late now to think of that. She had managed the uphill struggle somehow, and doubtless she could
manage going down.
Since he was no magician, it appeared to Gelimer that there was not much he could do for the
mermaid's benefit, except to offer her some probably foolish hope, and let her know at least that
she had a friend in the world.
As he was approaching his door, the hermit felt the demon's presence somewhere in the air, and
thought that this time it was passing closer than before.
Gelimer had not been back in his house for more than a quarter of an hour when something occurred
that drew him out of doors again.
The hermit had left both the inner and outer doors of his entrance standing open to the mild day,
and it was a peculiar wisp of sound that entered through the doorway to draw him out. The sound
was almost too faint to be heard at all, but there was a strangeness about it that caught at his
attention.
Listening, waiting for the sound to come again, Gelimer stood in the doorway of his small house.
He tasted the air, rubbed a hand over his bald head, and scanned the sky. A few times in his life,
a very few times and long ago, he had been able to see moving across the firmament some of the
powers that served the great magicians. But today he was able to see nothing magical in the sky,
nothing at all but a few clouds. He called for Geelong, thinking that if there were strange sounds
to be tracked down, the watchbeast would be very useful. But there was no response to the hermit's
call.
He was still loitering in his doorway when the strange sound came again, a high-pitched, briefly
sustained squealing. Something mechanical, the hermit thought now, a cartwheel needing grease
perhaps. Of course that couldn't be right, there were never any carts on these rough trails. But-
His concern, persistent and automatic, for the Sword drew him in the general direction of that
weapon's hiding place when he left the house. Gelimer called again for Geelong as he walked, and
he continued to listen for the strange noise to come again.
He had not walked forty meters from his door when a shift in the direction of the wind brought the
mysterious squealing sound to him more distinctly. It was a high-pitched whining, only
superficially mechanical. At bottom it was much more like the cry of some great animal in agony.
And at the same time he heard it, the hermit detected a new whiff of the demon's presence, which
reached him through none of the usual channels of the senses.
Ignoring the deep command of instinct that urged him to run away from that presence, Gelimer began
instead to run toward it. Toward the place from which the sound came also.
A hundred meters of running, moving horizontally along the great slope of the mountain, were
enough to bring him to a small patch or grove of stunted thorntrees. Trotting around to the far
side of this tall thicket, Gelimer came suddenly in sight of Geelong. The watchbeast had somehow
been nightmarishly elevated to twice or three times Gelimer's height above the ground, and all
four of his limbs were spread out and pinned on tough thorny branches. Geelong's head was twisted
to one side, whether voluntarily or not, so that he looked in the direction from which his master [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]