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Grunthor nodded.
Tariz noticed their exchange. Nervously he shifted the reins into his right hand and pointed with his
left.
'That is the site, sire," he said awkwardly.
'Then why are we riding away from it?" Achmed asked, already knowing the answer. The sensation
was similar to being a cat playing with a bird it had caught. His head hurt with the game, and it annoyed
him.
'Er we, ah, well, I have specific orders from the Duke of Yarim to first take you and your contingent
to the barracks complex that has been set up for you outside the city to the northeast. You will be most
comfortable there; we have arranged for housing for the men and animals, as well as for the machin-ery."
'The men fcw?" asked Grunthor in mock amazement. "Oh, goody! Ya mean we don't have ta sleep in
the rocks amongst the snakes? You truly are a gentleman, sir."
'The duke intends to see to your every need while you are his guests," stammered the aide.
'I presume that includes our need for constant guard," Achmed said.
'Yes, yes indeed." Tariz looked relieved.
The Bolg king reined his mount to a halt and gestured for the aide to stop alongside him. He leaned
nearer, locking eyes with the man.
'Let me make one thing undeniably clear from the outset, Tariz," he said quietly. "Whatever your
orders, my men and I are not your prisoners. For practicality's sake I will tolerate your presence, your
needless vigilance, your standing guard over us while we work, for as long as it suits me. But bear in mind
always that it is the ignorant fools in your own province you are watching for and holding arms against,
whose curiosity is injurious in some way in the mind of your duke, not the Bolg artisans he has hired. If
for one moment I feel a shift in that understanding, if any of my workers are harassed or made to feel like
anything less than the hired experts that they are, come to save your province from dying of thirst, we will
be gone before you draw a second breath, leaving you to wither and desiccate in the sun. Do you
understand my words?"
The Yarimese soldier nodded, his eyes bright in the sandy wind.
'Good. Then let us move out more quickly; the men deserve a rest from this sun before we begin
work at nightfall."
Q) rom the gleaming marble balcony of her guest room in the Judiciary, the palace of Yarim's duke,
Rhapsody watched the procession of wagons and horses as it turned to the east. The gown of green
Yarimese silk in which she was clothed, the duke's welcome gift, gleamed in the sun passing over it as
she turned to follow the caravan.
'Where are they going?" she demanded, shielding her eyes from the bright glare radiating off the
balcony railing, inset with precious opals and lapis lazuli, the gloriously colored products of Yarim's
famed mining camps.
Ihrman Karsrick cleared his throat. "I have arranged for them to be quartered in the Bissal Crescent,
a few miles outside of the city," he said blandly. "They should be easy to protect there."
'That's nothing but a dust bowl," said Ashe, crossing his arms. "Have you recently built a garrison
there, Irhman?"
'No, m'lord, not a permanent one, but a full camp has been erected, with a ring of guards around it."
Rhapsody turned to the duke. "Let me understand this. You have invited King Achmed to your
province for the purpose of benefiting from his expertise, in a matter that could remedy the possible
starvation of your people and save your treasury from being emptied, and you are expecting him to
quarter outside the city, sleeping on a cot in a tent in the middle of a barren wasteland, under continuous
guard, much in the same manner as you once housed the murderers from the Market of Thieves?"
'Not at all, m'lady," replied Karsrick, his teeth set in annoyance. "The murderers from the Market of
Thieves were given bedrolls, not cots. Where did you expect me to house the Bolg?"
The Lady Cymrian turned and strode angrily to the door. "I expected you to house them as you
would any other guests in your province, Ihrman, and I am embarrassed on your behalf, as well as my
own, that you didn't expect to do this as well. As for the Bolg king, who is a visiting head of state, and a
fellow member of the Cymrian Alliance, I expected you would put him up in your very own bedchamber,
if need be, and sleep yourself on the scullery floor with your fat arse to the fire before you would disgrace
both of us like this."
When the duke turned, purple with fury, to her husband, the Lord Cymrian merely shrugged.
'Namers must tell the truth as they know it, Ihrman," he said, following Rhapsody to the door.
"Speaking anything other than the truth dilutes their power. So perhaps it would have been more politic of
me to address you myself, rather than leaving it to Rhapsody, and tell you what a graceless, mannerless
idiot you are." He caught her arm before she went through the door way.
'You are right, of course, Aria," he said quietly. "But practically speaking, do you not think the Bolg
would be uncomfortable here in the Judiciary? Wouldn't they, in fact, have chosen the same sort of
accommodation that Ihrman has provided had they been asked?"
'Undoubtedly," his wife replied, kissing him on the cheek. "But theyweren't asked. Sometimes the
etiquette is more in the question than in the answer. I will return before supper."
Ashe caressed her face gently, then returned to the balcony, watching in silence, listening with
Karsrick as the palace guards repeated her orders to bring forth her mount and open the gate.
'Make certain she is accompanied and guarded on her way to the Bissal Crescent," the Lord Cymrian
directed Karsrick, who nodded angrily and left the room, leaving him to stand alone on the balcony,
observing his wife ride off to meet the other two of the Three, the men who had brought her across Time,
through the belly of the Earth, unknowingly returning her to his life and his world again.
He swallowed, willing himself to be grateful.
l, would ya look at that."
Grunthor laughed aloud at the sight approaching the camp. From the west a rolling cloud of dust rose,
in front of which a Lirin roan could be seen, in full canter transitioning to a gallop. Atop the roan was a
woman in a green silk gown, her lower legs bare, the skirts streaming behind her in the wind, similarly to
the way the blond tresses of her hair were flying, her scabbard slapping at her side. Behind her, a small
retinue of guards struggled to keep pace.
'Looks like she's bent on losing them, eh, sir? Think she might be 'appy to see us?"
Behind his veils Achmed smiled as well. He knew it was only a matter of moments before she would
descend upon them, because he had been tracking her heartbeat for most of the morning. It was racing in
time with the galloping mare.
'Yes, I believe she is," he said.
As she crested the rise where they were encamped, the roan slowed, then came to a graceful halt in a
swirl of red dust. Rhapsody vaulted from the animal's back, and ran toward them, bare of foot, grinning.
She threw herself first into the waiting arms of the giant, allowing him to lift her from the ground and
swing her about in his embrace like a child.
'Grunthor! I amso glad to see you! Thank you for coming!"
'My pleasure, miss," the Sergeant grinned in return. "Been far too long." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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