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."He pushed the drowned one aside gently.The creature stepped out of the way and waited there.Back at the railing, intimately aware of all the drowned ones floating in the water around Mistress Talia, Borran Kiosk watched the unmerciful execution of the other ship's crew.Some of the drowned ones were destroyed in the assault, but not nearly enough of them.In a short time, the drowned ones would have eliminated every living thing from the ship.The mohrg only hoped that something remained of the vessel when they finished.He felt filled with wonder as he gazed out over the sea and the ship under attack.He wanted to scream with joy."They're mine, Allis.I can feel them.I have an army.""As you were promised, Lord Kiosk."Borran Kiosk listened to the screams of the dying men.They sounded good, almost as if he was causing them himself.His bloodlust was fed, but it was nowhere near full."Alaghôn will be the first to fall, Allis," Borran Kiosk told the woman, "then all of Turmish.And when I have together again the five jewels that make up Taraketh's Hive, I will destroy all the lands that the Emerald Enclave holds precious.I will be unmerciful in my vengeance for all they have done to me."He paused, watching as men died aboard the other ship.T will kill them all."CHAPTER TWENTY-TWOAs soon as Haarn entered Alaghôn, nearly a tenday after leaving the lean-to where they'd weathered out the storm and rested while Ettrian healed, he felt closed in.Even in the densest brush he'd never experienced the kind of claustrophobia that assailed him in the city.Broadfoot, fully recovered from the shambler's attack, lumbered at his side, and thankfully, most of the townspeople stayed well away from Haarn because of him.Druids assigned to identify them to the Alaghôn Watch met them at the gate, directing them to the docks where the Emerald Enclave had set up camp.Borran Kiosk, the druids said, was expected at any time.The Elder Circle had scried the mohrg and knew he was headed back to Alaghôn, though few other details were available.Ettrian was passed through immediately, though a few of the druids knew Haarn as well.Haarn mistrusted the feel of the cobblestone street beneath his moccasins.The hard surface of the street didn't have the springy feel of true land.He felt tied down to it, held back instead of uplifted.He looked up at the tall buildings until his neck hurt.Some of them were several stories tall, crafted from stone shaped by hammer and chisel, and many windows held stained glass in dozens of different colors.Twilight deepened over the city, and the settingsun struck blazing colors from the stained glass.Windows fronting shops—something Haarn had never seen before though he'd heard merchants talk of such places—drew his attention time and again.On the other side of the glass were objects laid out for sale.Vast treasures of clothing, weapons, and food lay spread on sheets and colored blankets.Though he would never take things without paying for them, Haarn couldn't believe others wouldn't be tempted."Do you see something you like?" Druz asked.Haarn came back to his senses, only then aware that he was standing with his nose almost pressed to the window of a shop that sold herbs.He'd admired the pots and cups of leaves, branches, and powders that occupied the display window, and he wondered what the merchant might have that he would want.With the battle surely coming with Borran Kiosk, he was aware that his own kit was sorely lacking."No," Haarn answered, embarrassed at his own naivete."I don't have anything to trade for those things.""You have the bounty offered for Stonefur's head," Druz replied."I could advance you some against that, provided you repaid me."Haarn shook his head."No.Ill accept no bounty for killing the wolf."He stepped away from the window, aware that his father had turned and was waiting on him.Ettrian's face showed displeasure, and every line in his body screamed impatience.Since his recovery, which had left him un-scarred and in full health once more, he'd gone back to old habits and rarely spoke to Haarn.Most of their conversation had concerned Druz and whether or not they should have gotten rid of her.Haarn gripped Broadfoot's coat and urged the bear on again.Lamplighters climbed ladders they carried with them and lit the wicks of the street lamps as the night deepened and filled Alaghôn with shadows.The faces of townspeople peered out the windows of taverns and pubs, all of them watching the gathering of druids.They don't care for the Emerald Enclave here much," Druz said quietly as she looked around.Her hand never left the hilt of her long sword."No," Haarn agreed.They call us 'Caretakers' when we aid them during times of pestilence or crop failure.When we protect the forests, they call us 'Nature's Chosen,' meant in a derogatory manner.""What does your father call me?"Haarn, taken aback, briefly considered lying."I think you remind him too much of what was lost," he said."Do I remind you of your mother, Haarn?" Her voice was soft and her intensity surprising.Since that day in the lean-to, they hadn't talked of such things.He hadn't dared bring it up and had prayed that she wouldn't.The whole ordeal had been trying, and he didn't know what he wanted to say or what he wanted to hear from her."Perhaps," he answered finally.Druz looked away and took a small breath."I'm sorry for that.""You remind me," Haarn went on, though he couldn't imagine why he chose to speak other than the fact that the town must have been more unsettling than he'd at first believed, "of some of the best things about her."Druz turned back to him and smiled."Haarn!"Looking forward, Haarn saw that his father's face had grown even more impatient.The Elder Circle won't wait forever, boy," Ettrian said.Haarn lengthened his stride, leaving Druz behind.If they talked any more, he wanted to have more of his wits about him.Out in the forest, things between them had been different.He was very conscious that this was her territory.Even as he hurried, though, he glanced over his shoulder to make certain that she followed.She did, but she maintained a distance.Haarn was unsure which of them the distance was meant for.Even more overpowering than the sights of the citywere the stench and the noise.Never, not even in bat-infested caves filled with centuries of excrement, had he smelled a stench like that which filled Alaghôn.He pinched his nostrils together as best as he could and breathed shallowly.Some of the scents in the miasma that assaulted him were food scents and probably would have made him hungry had it not been for the sickening odors mixed with them.The noise was another matter.Where it seemed at times that nature was incredibly raucous, there was no comparison to the noise a city generated.He already had a pounding headache from the din of voices, wheels clattering along the cobblestones, the constant pounding of iron-shod hooves, and tools used by professionals at their craft [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]