Dave Duncan - A Handful Of Men 3 - The Stricken Field.pdf - Dave Duncan - margozap

The horde had enjoyed an unusually good day. As was his custom, Death Bird had deployed his men in

two columns. When they converged at sunset, they entrapped a large band of refugees. Camp was

pitched earlier than usual to enjoy the spoils: women for rape, horses for food, men for sport—everything

a goblin’s heart could desire.

For Kadie it had been an exceedingly bad day. The weather was unbearably hot now, bringing dust and

insects, but in the last few weeks she had learned to endure those. Her cramps and nausea did not come

from weather alone. Even goblins came down with fever, and why should she expect to be tougher than

them? Trouble was, sickness was weakness in this army. The ones who couldn’t keep up were killed by

their friends. Sympathy was about as common hereabouts as killer whales. By afternoon, she was barely

managing to stay on Allena’s back. Running alongside as always, Blood Beak naturally noticed her

distress, but he jeered much less than she expected. Indeed, he seemed almost concerned.

The goblin army camped by totems. The prince himself was a Raven, but his bodyguards came from a

wide variety of tribes. The little band would attach itself to a different group each night. Blood Beak was

gaining authority. The men had begun to regard him more as their leader than their ward, and would

generally do what he said, as long as he did not try to overrule their standing orders. This night he

insisted on joining the Beavers, who were setting up alongside an unburned barn. He got his way,

probably because it was a good campsite, near a well.

With the magnanimous air of an imperor bestowing a dukedom, he told Kadie she could have the barn.

Shelter and privacy were rare treats, and she was grateful. Then he ordered one of the guards to

unsaddle the mare for her, and again was obeyed, although not very willingly. Blood Beak could be quite

pleasant at times, for a goblin.

Ignoring her own light-headedness and aches, Kadie first established Allena in a corner by the door with

hay and water, and only then made a nook for herself at the far end, behind some bales of straw. She

had no desire to eat, but she felt even more sticky and filthy than usual. She must wash before sleeping,

she decided.

That was when she discovered what the trouble was. Her mother had warned her, of course, that such

things would happen. Most of her friends had started long ago, and back in Krasnegar she had been

quite worried that she was taking so long. Lately she hadn’t thought about it. Well, now it had started. It

should be an exciting milestone in her life, the start of womanhood. Thousands of leagues from home in

the middle of a barbarian host, it was a very unwelcome development indeed. Fortunately she had some

spare garments to use as rags—there was no shortage of such plunder and it wasn’t really stealing

because anything she did not rescue would just be burned by the goblins.

As the sky grew dark, she settled down to try to sleep, sore and unhappy. She laid her magic rapier

within reach as she always did and pulled a tattered old cloak over herself for warmth. More than

anything, she thought she would like a hot brick wrapped in a blanket, just to cuddle. She had barely

closed her eyes before a nerve-curdling shriek rang out close by. It was followed at once by another,

even louder. The goblins had begun the evening’s entertainment, and the Beavers’ fire was right outside

her barn. She was used to it by now, of course. Even Allena hardly flicked her ears any more at the

sounds or smells of torture, but it was rarely so close. There was rarely so much of it.

Every time Kadie began to settle, another scream would jar her awake. The night outside was bright

with moonlight and campfires, and loud with torment, far and near-agony and raucous merriment in

Evil-spawned choruses.

Tonight of all nights she needed to sleep. She needed her mother, whom she had not seen in over two

months. In fact, she had not spoken with any woman in that time. She spoke to hardly anyone except

Blood Beak.

Blood Beak, her future husband, the goblin prince. By his standards, she supposed, she would now

class as nubile. The wedding could come any time now. She wished she had a breviary, to know the

right prayers to say and the right Gods to invoke. But she would not be able to read it in the dark, and

probably there was no proper prayer for this situation. Mom had told her that exact words didn’t really

matter. She hoped they didn’t, because she’d done a lot of very unorthodox praying lately. She’d even

prayed to the God of Rescues, and she wasn’t at all sure that there was a God of Rescues. Perhaps she

had prayed wrongly—to the God of Battles to send the legions and kill all the goblins, for example. The

God of Battles had not heeded her appeal. And the God of Rescues, if there was one, was not rescuing

those poor men and women outside. At least nothing that bad had happened to her, at least not yet.

If only they would be quiet outside there and let her sleep! There were so many victims tonight that the

torments might go on till dawn.

“Kadie?”

Perhaps she had floated off into a half sleep. It was not a scream that wakened her, it was a whisper.

She sat up with a stifled cry that was half a groan. Her hand fumbled for her sword. “Who’s there?”

“It’s me.”

“Go away!” And yet she was relieved that it was Blood Beak. She could see him now. The barn was

not completely dark.

“I need to talk with you.”

“We talked all day. You can talk all tomorrow. Go away. I’m sleeping.”

“You were weeping. I heard you.” He came closer. “Why were you weeping?” He spoke impish very

well now, when no one else was listening.

“I wasn’t. Why shouldn’t I weep? What does it matter to you? Go away!”

She had her sword ready, although her palm was so slippery wet and shaking that she doubted she

could use it. Her heart was pounding madly. She had driven Quiet Stalker to his death and she would kill

Blood Beak if he tried to touch her. Yes, she would! He did not come close enough. He knelt down by

her wall of straw, just out of reach.

“Don’t want you to weep.”

She couldn’t think of an answer. The more she thought about it, the more that remark seemed totally

wrong. “Kadie, I’m worried.”

And that one, too. “What’s the matter?” She saw a gleam of firelight on his face and chest, and dark

stains. “You’re hurt!”

“No.”

“That’s blood!”

“Yes. I cut an artery by mistake.”

Her insides lurched. She never let him talk about what he did in the evenings. She tried to pretend to

herself that he didn’t join in, but she knew he did.

“You killed him?”

He made a noise that sounded perilously like a sniff. “I made a fool of myself, Kadie! They give me first

scream, and I was so excited my hand slipped . . .” He banged his fist on the ground. “What an idiot

trick! He was the best we had, too! Would have lasted for . . . you really want to hear?”

“No.” She could sense his hurt and pain, though. The other goblins would have jeered at him. He must

feel like a failure, like Brak must have felt at losing a fight to skinny Gath, or an imp getting cheated.

Probably the guards would be a lot less inclined to do what he said now.

“I’m glad the man died easily,” she said. “I’m sorry you’re upset. Now please go away.”

He didn’t answer, just wiped moodily at the drying blood that had sprayed all over him.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered.

“Father’s gone mad.” He spoke so softly she barely heard.

Death Bird had always been mad, but she mustn’t say that. “Why? What’s he doing?”

“Nothing. That’s the trouble. It’s not just me! Other men are saying it, too. He won’t turn back. We

keep going south. You know those mountains we saw?”

“They were clouds.”

“The sort of clouds you get above mountains. They’re the mountains on the other side of the Impire! The

Mosweeps, they’re called. He’s brought us all the way across the Impire!”

“I know. You knew. We talked about it.”

“But . . . But the legions are behind us! We should be going back, and he won’t.”

“He’ll have to when he gets to the sea.” She wished she’d paid more attention to geography lessons.

“I suppose. Then we’ll have legions on one side and the sea on the other.”

She had never heard a hint of this from Blood Beak before.

“You think I can change his mind?” she said disbelievingly.

“You? Gods, no! I think he’s forgotten all about you. He hardly even sends for me anymore.” Blood

Beak’s voice trailed off uncertainly.

A sudden powerful shriek outside told her that the goblins had started on a fresh victim. She ignored it,

waiting. “Kadie . . . No one’s come to rescue you yet.”

“They will!” She wished she still believed that.

“Kadie . . . If I could help you escape . . . Would you like that, Kadie?”

She began to shake all over. “How?”

“I don’t know!” he said miserably. “I don’t think I can. But I would if I could! If I see a chance . . .”

She couldn’t think of any way he could help her escape, either, but her heart seemed to explode with

excitement. She thought of herself marching up to one of those great houses she had seen, a mansion like

Kinvale, except it wouldn’t be burning and there would still be people living in it, rich people, imps. They

would be clean and well dressed. I am so sorry to drop in unexpectedly like this, but I am Princess

Kadolan of Krasnegar, and I have just escaped from the goblins . . .

“But why?”

He was quiet so long that she thought he was not going to answer at all. Then he said, “Because we’re

all going to die!”

“You’ve beaten the legions before.”

“Only two at a time.” His voice went shrill. “They must be after us by now! We’ve outrun them, that’s

all. But when we turn back, we’ll bang into dozens of legions. Hundreds of legions!”

It must be true, of course. And not a goblin would be allowed to escape. Not one would straggle back

to Pondague across the whole width of the Impire. Especially not the king’s son.

“I expect your father’s thought of this, you know. He must have some sort of plan that he hasn’t told

anyone.”

“I hope so! That’s what everyone’s hoping.”

“But—If I could escape, yes, I’d like that very much, Blood Beak. I’d be very grateful. I’d tell everyone

how you helped me, and ask for you to be pardoned.”

“I don’t want that!” he said angrily. “You think I’m a coward?” His voice rose in outrage. “You think I’m

trying to save myself!”

“No, of course not! I know you’re brave. I think it’s wonderful and romantic that you’re offering to help

me.” But she had upset him, had said the wrong thing.

“Just like one of your stories!” His voice wavered. “Trying to make me into an impish prince, aren’t you?

Well, I’m not an impish prince. Maybe I’m clumsy with a knife, but I’m going off to the women now,

and I take a lot of satisfying! No one laughs at me there! So just don’t you forget who I am!” He jumped

up.

“Blood Beak!”

“What?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to upset you. You had bad luck tonight, but I’m sure you can make up for it

with the women. I’ll let you tell me all about it tomorrow if you want. And I would be very, very grateful

if you could help me escape.”

He grunted. “If you see a way, then let me know and I’ll think about it.”

He stalked out.

Kadie lay down again and stared wide-eyed at the dark. Did he mean it? Could he help her? Now she

had a whole new terror to deal with. Despair was much easier to bear than hope.

Rain was falling in the Mosweeps, of course, but it was a warm, soothing rain, and the night was

pleasant in spite of it. Rap sat by himself on a rock at the front door of Shaggi’s castle, alongside the

waterfall. He was brooding about his family and worrying about the future. His grand design was starting

to fall apart already.

Today had been a holiday. For the first time in half a year, he had sat around and relaxed and not gone

anywhere. One of the youthful trolls had been sent off downstream to fetch Tik Tok’s anthropophagous

band; two more troll sorcerers had wandered in and been released from their servitude. A wild party

had hatched and was rapidly growing to a full-fledged riot. The noise inside the castle was incredible.

Nevertheless, there was a war on, and riotous parties were vulnerable to surprise attacks. Rap himself

had insisted on posting guards, taking one of the first watches himself. All he need do was keep a vigilant

eye on the ambience, and it was remaining silent. Growling and crunching noises in some bushes at the

far side of the pool told him where the two mundanes, Urg and Shaggi, were consoling each other in

traditional fashion. Thrugg would not mind, so Rap should not; although he was reminded that he had

enjoyed no time alone with Inos since the great storm washed out the causeway.

He recalled himself to duty, taking a glance at the ambience. He detected nothing within a hundred

leagues. He went back to meditating on what happened next.

Obviously there was little point now in visiting the Nogid Archipelago, for Zinixo and Tik Tok between

them had emptied the closet. The Covin was thought to have captured forty or so recruits, which meant

that the bad guys’ power was still growing faster than the good guys’.

So what next? Rap had gone fishing for an ally and landed an army, and he had no idea what to do with

it. Probably nothing. Zinixo had nurtured his Covin in secret until he was ready to strike, and Rap had

told Shandie that they would do much the same. No rendezvous, he had said, no preordained day of

uprising. To set a time or place would be to invite discovery. Sneak attacks might betray the entire

movement. Bizarre as it seemed in mundane terms, that strategy had been accepted by both imperor and

warlock.

The troll sorcerers would fit in well with it. They would very happily vanish off back to their castles and

wait until trumpets of the Last Battle rang in the ambience. Whether they would then respond, of course,

was a problem for the future.

But the anthropophagi must find some safer refuge. They were already homeless refugees and would

enjoy life in the Mosweeps no more than a faun did. Inevitably they would start preying on the imps, if

not for meat then just for sport. As soon as their presence became known the army would start hunting

them, and the Covin would come to assist.

Had any would-be leader ever commanded a force so grotesque: trolls and anthropophagi? Rap was

yoking the ox with the tiger. His own occult powers were trivial, good for little more than fairground

juggling, and yet as the only outsider in the group he must somehow keep the peace between the two

sides. It would be a marriage of fire and water, but if he let his army sit still and do nothing, it would rot.

So follow me! Where to?

Faerie? Dragon Reach?

Always he came back to that nagging feeling that he had forgotten something.

Then he had company . . .

A slender woman stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the light of the bonfires within. She stepped

Dave Duncan - A Handful Of Men 3 - The Stricken Field.pdf

Plik z chomika:

Inne pliki z tego folderu:

Inne foldery tego chomika: