Barclay 2 Shadowheart

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.'Show that passion later and we stand half a chance.''Later?''Yes, later.' The Unknown walked around in a tight circle.'Erienne, how long until the execution?''Midnight is traditional in Lystern.The condemned is not supposed to witness the joy of another new day.''Midnight,' confirmed The Unknown.'When we all come together in the Vigil for Darrick's passing.Hirad, are you getting this?''Sort of.''Gods falling, a sign of life!' The Unknown drained his mug and sat opposite the barbarian.'And now, at last, we can plan.'Devun had been a long time coming to Understone.For so many days he'd feared what he would find.But the faltering Balaian army the Black Wings just about commanded needed reassuring.Selik had promised he'd join them but he'd failed to materialise.And so the army of ordinary Balaians, united against magic, had stopped in its tracks, scant miles from the walls of Xetesk.Their goal was in sight but they were too scared to approach it without their leader.So, belatedly, Devun had ridden with a group of ten to find him.Understone had been turned to nothing more than an open grave.He dismounted fifty yards from the garrison stockade and let his horse bend its neck to crop the burgeoning plains grass.He could smell the sick taint of decay on the breeze and could see the damage to the wooden stockade which Selik had made his headquarters.A few yards later and the first bodies were clearly visible, lying in the grotesque shapes of their deaths.Devun sent his men on down into the town and carried on towards the stockade alone, already knowing what he was going to find.A numb feeling spread across his body.He tied a rag around his mouth and nose, to guard against the stench that grew with every pace, and drew his sword, just in case.But the scavengers had been and gone.The bodies in the main street had been stripped of weapons, armour and clothes.And he could see, up towards the eastern end of the town where his men were headed, that every scrap of canvas had been taken from the makeshift site that had housed much of the army of the righteous.Swallowing bile, Devun pushed open the gates of the stockade, a gasp escaping his lips.The ground was covered in bodies.Clouds of flies feasted on the corpses.Carrion birds pecked and tore at the festering, decomposing flesh.Every body had been stripped, just like outside, but here he could chart more easily the course of the battle.Slaughter, more like.There had been two conflicts.One right here by the gates where a jumble of bodies, unrecognisable in their putrefaction, lay in close formation.The other had been concentrated to his right.A clear area in front of the burned remnants of a collapsed rampart was bordered by a press of bodies.Beneath them, the ground was stained black with their blood.Whoever had been here had presumably taken their own dead away, leaving the Black Wings and ordinary Balaians to rot where they fell.Devun was disgusted.He walked on across the compound; the smell in the still warm air was staggering.He fought back the nausea, waved his free hand in front of his face to fend off the swarms of flies and stepped between the bodies as best he could.He stopped for a while in front of the door to the garrison offices and barracks.He knew what he'd find inside, he just had to see for himself.And if not inside, he'd have to look at every corpse lying behind him.Devun pushed open the door and the savage odour hit him like a charging horse.He gagged and coughed, leaning against the door frame until his vision cleared and the cold sensation eased enough for him to move on.Just ahead and to the right, was the office door and an answer to his question.Scratched into it was a symbol.It was rough but there was no mistaking it.He spat on it, watching the spittle dribble down across the eye and claw of The Raven's sign.He opened the door.The office had been ransacked.Papers were strewn across die floor.The table and shelves were all done for.By the door in the left wall a rotting head lay separated from its stripped body.Devun walked over to it, knelt and grasped the hair that still covered the skull.So much of the face was gone, eaten by rats and insects, but the bone around the left eye socket was warped and the left cheek criss-crossed by dozens of tiny cracks.IceWind had done this but that wasn't what had killed Selik.It was The Raven.Devun placed the head carefully back on the ground, stood and walked quickly from the building.Later, sitting on his horse in front of his men, Devun watched the flames consume the Understone garrison and give some belated respect to all those who had died within it.'What will we do?' asked his new lieutenant.'Without Selik, the army will break up faster than ever.''We have to bring new muscle and new energy to the fight,' said Devun.'Captain Selik had always kept one idea back.Something he thought we could do if we were desperate.I think that time is now.It's risky but if we bring down the colleges, it'll be worth it.Follow me.''Where are we going?''To talk to the Wesmen.'Devun turned his horse and trotted away towards Understone Pass.Chapter 4Dystran sat at Ranyl's bedside, where he had spent every hour he could since the Circle Seven Master, and his close friend, had felt the cancer take its death hold.By the old man's head lay a black cat, an expression of human desperation on its features.Dystran wasn't surprised.When Ranyl finally died, the demon familiar would perish with him.The two had been melded for more years than he could remember.Certainly for longer than his tenure as Lord of the Mount of Xetesk.Dystran sighed.He seemed to have been doing so a lot lately.He'd never really believed Ranyl would actually die.And now he had to face ruling without the man responsible for putting him there in the first place.It would be like losing a limb.'Stop mopping my brow and tell me what happened today,' said Ranyl, voice still strong though punctuated by gasping breaths.Dystran dropped the cloth back into the bowl by his left hand and smiled.'Sorry.I don't mean to mother you.I just wish you'd let me ease the pain for you.''I have eternity to feel nothing, my Lord,' said Ranyl.'Let me feel what I can for as long as I can, even if it is somewhat uncomfortable.'It was far more than that.Ranyl's drawn white face, pasty skin and feverish brow were evidence enough.But he had been quite determined that when he could no longer numb the pain himself, no one else was to do it for him.Not even the Lord of the Mount.'So tell me, young pup,' said Ranyl, face softening when he used the over-familiar expression.'What taxes the mind of Balaia's most powerful man today?''Well, old dog.' Dystran responded in kind.'We have witnessed an extraordinary event today.Something happened to Julatsan mana control.Every spell deployed failed at once during the morning's fighting.Quite suddenly and quite without warning [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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