[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

steep arc, streamer trailing like a comet's tail across the overcast sky. The
shaft slowed, almost hesitated midflight, then plunged earthward with a rush.
Behind the Kielmark's bulk, Taen and Jaric watched it fall, cognizant of the
fact that the signal sentenced brave men to die. The arrow commanded the first
stage of the attack to retake the harbor; but the fleet which should have
supported the strategy had yet to breast the horizon.
Elrinfaer
Tathagres engaged the powers of the Gierj-demons and Kis-burn's private
chamber dissolved in a shower of light. Red-orange sparks streaked across
Page 206
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Emien's vision and vanished in a scorching blast of wind. Unlike the earlier
transfer from the ice cliffs, the boy felt a bucking lurch. Sorcery whipped
his hair into snarls as he tumbled through air and darkness. He landed gasping
beside his mistress on a beach laced with stink-ing strands of kelp.
Emien looked up, disappointed. A glance showed them still on Cliffhaven; but
outside the fortress walls just a stone's throw from the dockside. Bruised and
winded, Emien struggled to his feet. Sand dribbled out of his cuffs as he
straightened his swordbelt and extended his hand to Tathagres.
She accepted his help with none of the acid unpleasantness he remembered from
Skane's Edge. The sorcery of the transfer had taxed her. Her delicate features
were drawn and pale under a light sheen of sweat. Tremors of fatigue passed
through her as she gripped Emien's arm. She stumbled to her feet as if the
demon's powers had left her slightly dazed.
Emien watched like a starved cat, fingers inching toward his sword. Yet
Tathagres rallied before he gathered the nerve to exploit her weakness. She
swept a rapacious glance across strand, warehouses and the line of the horizon
beyond the boom which closed the harbor, and thought rapidly.
"Find a boat quickly and get us to sea." She flicked sand from her hair with
an arrogant toss of her wrist. "To transfer to Elrinfaer I must merge again
with the Gierj. This cannot be attempted within reach of men at arms."
Whether she referred to Kisburn's men or the Kielmark's pirates made no
difference; both sides would carry steel. Emien complied without argument.
Outgoing tide creamed over a breakwater fifty paces to the south. Beyond, the
shore lifted into rugged bastions of rock too steep for safe anchorage.
Northward past the untenanted jumble of dockside taverns and shops a wharf
extended beyond the corner of a warehouse. Black against leaden clouds, an
angular assembly of spars and rigging reared above the shingled roofs.
Emien pointed. "There."
Tathagres nodded. Together they ran over sand still packed from the tide. The
beach ended, shored up by a breakwater of granite. Emien caught Tathagres'
elbow, steadying her as she climbed over rocks crusted with barnacles. A push
would tum-ble her onto the jagged stones below. Since she intended a transfer
to Elrinfaer, Emien chose patience. Pressed flat against weather-beaten
boards, he hurried past the warehouse. The boat lay tied thirty feet out on
the pier. She appeared unguarded. After a hasty glance at her lines Emien saw
why, and swore under his breath. The boat was aged and ungainly. Yet her
planking showed signs of recent repair and she still looked fit to sail.
Tathagres shared none of the boy's annoyance. Although she appeared peaked
and tired, she spoke before he managed any complaint. "The boat must serve.
The Kielmark has cleared his harbor of everything else."
"Let's hope he was thorough." Emien grimaced. "If that relic sails at all,
she'll go clunky as a farmer's wooden bucket."
Suddenly a shout rang from the alley behind the warehouse. Steel clanged,
announcing a rapid exchange of swordplay. Out of time to seek options, Emien
caught his mistress's elbow and bolted for the dock. The foolish old fishing
craft was surely preferable to getting trapped like rats on the shore.
Emien leaped across three feet of water onto the port gun-wale; an engraved
plaque beneath his boot named the craftCallinde. Leaving the docklines for
Tathagres, Emien dove for the mess of rope at the base of the mast and
Page 207
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
uncleated the main halyard. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]