[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.The waste of Logol had lightened sufficiently so that afew nearby dunes were discernible.The caravan boy pointed.Looking sharp, Brak detected movement.A rider on a pony?Yes.And another behind.Soon a whole file of them became visible, passing in a depression between thedunes.Helane caught her breath.Without thinking, Brak clapped a big hand across her mouth.He pressed herhead tight against his brawny chest, held her until she realized the need forsilence.And he kept watching.In the feeble light with the sand blowing, details were difficult to pick out.But at last he was sure.The phantasmal riders passing perhaps a league and ahalf out from the fort wore plumed helmets.The caravan boy's teeth chattered.At last he managed to whisper,  Quran? Quran. Brak said no more.The riders jogged out of sight.The barbarian had no doubts about whom theywere hunting.Perhaps in the storm they had missed seeing the loom of thefort.But it didn't ease the strain one whit to know that the ruby-eyedwarriors were out and moving across Logol.Like statues, the big barbarian and Helane and the boy watched for nearly halfan hour, till they were sure the Quran had gone. At least luck was with us this time, sighed Helane as they climbed down theshaking stair. But next time? Brak shook his head. We don't know how many bands of ridersare moving out there.More than one, I'd wager.They rested all day in the fort.The storm continued to seethe and scream.That night, as they were starting to eat at the fire down in the cellar, thesinging began again.Friar Pol had been discoursing on some dull aspect of his days as a scholar.At the first notes, the little clay bowl from which he'd been eating slippedfrom his hand and shattered.Captain Gorzhov stirred in the corner for the first time in some while.Helurched to a sitting position, gave a loud belch.Brak's palms crawled.Despite the wind, noise, the weird melody was clear and distinct.Two voices,wailingLying on a pallet of blankets, Hadrios raised on his elbow.He looked flushed. Cursed.I knew we were cursed the day we set out for Timbello.Helane pressed him back down. It may be just a trick of the wind, Father.Page 50ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlCaptain Gorzhov said a filthy word.He tried to rise, flopped.He tossed thewineskin over his forearm, drained it.Brak could smell him.The Captain reeked with the sweet stink of too muchwine.Gorzhov finally gained his feet, dropped the skin, swaggered forward. Why do we hide from them? A fop-faced boy.A simpering girl I don't believethose tales In a surprisingly strong voice Friar Pol said,  Sit down, you sotted fool. Sotted? Gorzhov spat to show his contempt. Might be.But that's a betterstate than being all trembly with terror.Better than burrowing down here likevermin afraid of the light.Hell's eyes! He snicked his curved sword outclumsily.The flat of the blade flashed in the firelight. I'm not frightenedof them.Nor of those damned ruby-eyed sons of sluts parading back and forthon their ponies.You're frightened of them, though, all of you.A scathing glance at the group.Till now, Brak had felt sorry for the man'sdrunken bravado.But a little flame of anger licked inside his mind whenGorzhov included him in the glance of condemnation. All right, lords and ladies, the scout exclaimed. Stay here! CaptainGorzhov will go out and stop that damned singing this minute.Lurching to the girl, he touched her chin and grinned in a foolish, almostcross-eyed way.Brak's anger abated again.The man was out of his senses. Tell me, bird, Gorzhov roared to Helane. Who's brave among us now? In the name of gods, Helane said wearily,  this is no time to try and proveyou're a man. But I am! Gorzhov cried, spit-bubbles breaking on his lips. The rest ofthese  Once more his eyes slid to Brak's face. Scared dung-beetles.I'mgoing out to them.Sword bared, Gorzhov started for the cellar wall. Captain Gorzhov! Stand, you stupid drunkard.Stand!"Old Hadrios was on his feet.He thrust off his daughter's hand as he took alurching step on his peg leg.His pale eyes were feverishly bright. I am the one who gives orders, Captain.My order is that you will not leavethis place.Just because wine has addled your head and you think your fool'stalk may impress my daughter, I'll not see you throw your life away andendanger the rest of us. Hadrios's chest heaved. Stand, Captain. You sick man! You'll not tell me to play coward! There was a humiliatedredness in Gorzhov's cheeks above his beard.The old man had touched a rawplace with his remark about the purpose behind the Captain's boasts.Helanewatched the scout with a kind of sad, sorrowing contempt.Gorzhov kicked at the foundation stones as if trying to find a foothold.Heturned his back on Hadrios.The old man moved swiftly. Stand, Captain! Hadrios cried.Gorzhov ignored him.The old man moved swiftly, snatching up his whip from his pallet. Father  Helane screamed.She reached out to prevent the blow.Panting witheffort, Hadrios was too fast for her.He slipped around the fire and crackedthe lash.It caught Gorzhov around the head, dragged him over in a heap. Damn you, damn you! Gorzhov yelled, floundering.Hadrios leaped closer.Thewhip wentcrack three times.There were bloody weals on Gorzhov's cheeks and neck by the time the Friar andBrak wrested the whip's butt away.On one knee, Gorzhov wiped his face.Heexamined the red smear on his filthy fingers.There was a sullen, furiousglitter in his eyes.Hadrios breathed heavily.He mumbled in wordless anger as Helane tugged himback to the other side of the fire.Brak studied Gorzhov and perceived againwhat he had seen before.Captain Gorzhov could show courage when fighting with others at his side.Butwhen he stood alone, his courage waned away, and there was only cowardice. Obey him, Captain, Brak said in a low voice. We've trouble enough withoutmaking our own.For a long moment the Captain eyed the tall, wide-shouldered man with thebraid and the lion tail dangling at his back.Then, wiping his cheek a secondPage 51ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmltime, he slunk back to his corner.Presently he rolled over, face to thefoundation wall, and began to snore.All at once Brak realized that the singing had stopped.A small blessing.Heleft Helane tending to her father, who seemed to be having trouble breathing.He went up to the watch platform and stood with the boy on guard.He staredinto the blowing murk wondering and wondering whether any of them would seethe end of this nightmare pilgrimage.Sometime after the middle of the night, a husky, bubbling cry wakened the bigbarbarian.He rolled over.At the last instant he remembered that he was still on thewatch platform.He caught himself before he fell off.The cry was repeated.It came from the cellar.Brak untangled himself from the blanket, stumbled to the stairs as someonebelow fanned the fire alight.The caravan boy had fallen asleep standing atthe parapet.There were more pressing matters.The cry came again, thin, rattling.Brak heard Helane's terrified voice, too.Down into the cellar he went.Friar Pol was blowing on the fire.On hispallet, Hadrios thrashed in a convulsion.Helane watched him helplessly.Tearsran down through the dirt on her cheeks. He overtaxed himself when he took the whip to Gorzhov.I knew he oh gods, Iknew he'd come to disaster on this journey [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]