satisfaction. For the benefit of the sorcerous eddy that now iced the sweat at his collar, he added, ' That ' s precisely how I shall serve the land, this time. No matter what errand Sethvir ' s flipped a shade to dispatch! I won ' t play the toady with mincing ambassadors or hang out my flag for diplomacy! '
Silence. Even the tough, summer grass had stopped rustling.
Bransian glared mulishly forward, pulse soaring. ' Is it Luhaine, again? If so, speak up quick! We ' re busy as coupling may-flies, which means I can ' t dawdle for carping yap from a gas-bag. '
' Luhaine should hear you, ' Kharadmon snapped with relish, ' the more since he treasures his grudges like fossils. '
Bransian stiffened. Red-faced, he folded his arms. ' If you ' ve come here to plead against an armed fight, a straight pin in the arse would be kinder. '
' You may not have a living arse to offend, ' Kharadmon pointed out. ' Lysaer ' s taken Tirans. Varens, Farsee, Northstor, and Easttair have all received Sunwheel sealed orders to march. Need I repeat that their harbours are already swarming? Perdith will join them, with Kalesh and Adruin primed to fuel that bonfire by week ' s end. You will see your gates stormed. The Light ' s minions will blockade your harbour within weeks, if you care to credit my warning. Carping yap! ' the Sorcerer cracked with offence. ' Should I waste my time here, or try the reasonable course and visit your lady? '
' Liesse? ' Bransian ' s lip curled. He kicked his dropped gorget, then spun towards the cold dust-devil that marked Kharadmon ' s seething presence. ' My wife ' s will backs mine. No women will leave. If they went, they would strip the steadfast heart out of the citadel. '
' Send Sevrand, then, ' the Sorcerer persisted. ' At least leave your heir to the refuge of Atwood, if only to safeguard your lineage. '
' No get of mine would embrace such dishonour! ' Bransian ' s glare showed blazing contempt. ' Shame on your words. Sorcerer! Such as Sevrand ' s become, he would run himself through, first. No cousin of mine forsakes his courage, or fails to stand in defence of his heritage. '
' So would the compact that binds charter law fail, ' Kharadmon stated, ruthless. ' If each man sheds his blood for his personal turf above the weal of this land, we are lost. Prince Arithon was right to disown you. '
Since drawn steel could not silence an insolent shade, Bransian hit back with complacency. ' Alestron has always endured, undefeated. ' He squared challenging shoulders, large fists hooked on his sword-belt. ' Or is the power of Lysaer ' s false godhead much worse than the fire of Athera ' s great dragons? '
' Apparently you are hell-bound to find out, ' Kharadmon said, frustrated beyond storm or heat. ' If I thought earnest prayer could soften your pride, I would beg every power alive that innocents who rely on these walls do not pay the harsh price of your folly. '
' Over the wrack of my dead enemies, they won ' t ' Duke Bransian insisted.
But the Fellowship shade had already left, without the flourish of a rejoinder.
In his absence, the sunlight beat down like hot brass. The revetted walls danced through shimmering haze, while the glass fragments set into the mortar glared white. Yet even noon ' s wilting humidity could not blunt s ' Brydion temper. The duke stalked ahead and snatched up his tossed mail. Straightened up with the links wadded in his bare hands, he harangued his available men. ' Damn your shirking hides! Who asked you loungers to park on your rumps? Hop to! There ' s a war bearing down on this stronghold! Load up the next round of stone-shot! '
* * *
While Alestron ' s titled lord drilled his field-troops, his brother Mearn was not gambling. Found in the smoking, red heat of the forge, the youngest of the duke ' s siblings was whetting one of his stiletto daggers. The whine of steel on the grindstone lagged only an instant as Kharadmon ' s chill presence sliced in, flaring t h e smith ' s coals
Silence. Even the tough, summer grass had stopped rustling.
Bransian glared mulishly forward, pulse soaring. ' Is it Luhaine, again? If so, speak up quick! We ' re busy as coupling may-flies, which means I can ' t dawdle for carping yap from a gas-bag. '
' Luhaine should hear you, ' Kharadmon snapped with relish, ' the more since he treasures his grudges like fossils. '
Bransian stiffened. Red-faced, he folded his arms. ' If you ' ve come here to plead against an armed fight, a straight pin in the arse would be kinder. '
' You may not have a living arse to offend, ' Kharadmon pointed out. ' Lysaer ' s taken Tirans. Varens, Farsee, Northstor, and Easttair have all received Sunwheel sealed orders to march. Need I repeat that their harbours are already swarming? Perdith will join them, with Kalesh and Adruin primed to fuel that bonfire by week ' s end. You will see your gates stormed. The Light ' s minions will blockade your harbour within weeks, if you care to credit my warning. Carping yap! ' the Sorcerer cracked with offence. ' Should I waste my time here, or try the reasonable course and visit your lady? '
' Liesse? ' Bransian ' s lip curled. He kicked his dropped gorget, then spun towards the cold dust-devil that marked Kharadmon ' s seething presence. ' My wife ' s will backs mine. No women will leave. If they went, they would strip the steadfast heart out of the citadel. '
' Send Sevrand, then, ' the Sorcerer persisted. ' At least leave your heir to the refuge of Atwood, if only to safeguard your lineage. '
' No get of mine would embrace such dishonour! ' Bransian ' s glare showed blazing contempt. ' Shame on your words. Sorcerer! Such as Sevrand ' s become, he would run himself through, first. No cousin of mine forsakes his courage, or fails to stand in defence of his heritage. '
' So would the compact that binds charter law fail, ' Kharadmon stated, ruthless. ' If each man sheds his blood for his personal turf above the weal of this land, we are lost. Prince Arithon was right to disown you. '
Since drawn steel could not silence an insolent shade, Bransian hit back with complacency. ' Alestron has always endured, undefeated. ' He squared challenging shoulders, large fists hooked on his sword-belt. ' Or is the power of Lysaer ' s false godhead much worse than the fire of Athera ' s great dragons? '
' Apparently you are hell-bound to find out, ' Kharadmon said, frustrated beyond storm or heat. ' If I thought earnest prayer could soften your pride, I would beg every power alive that innocents who rely on these walls do not pay the harsh price of your folly. '
' Over the wrack of my dead enemies, they won ' t ' Duke Bransian insisted.
But the Fellowship shade had already left, without the flourish of a rejoinder.
In his absence, the sunlight beat down like hot brass. The revetted walls danced through shimmering haze, while the glass fragments set into the mortar glared white. Yet even noon ' s wilting humidity could not blunt s ' Brydion temper. The duke stalked ahead and snatched up his tossed mail. Straightened up with the links wadded in his bare hands, he harangued his available men. ' Damn your shirking hides! Who asked you loungers to park on your rumps? Hop to! There ' s a war bearing down on this stronghold! Load up the next round of stone-shot! '
* * *
While Alestron ' s titled lord drilled his field-troops, his brother Mearn was not gambling. Found in the smoking, red heat of the forge, the youngest of the duke ' s siblings was whetting one of his stiletto daggers. The whine of steel on the grindstone lagged only an instant as Kharadmon ' s chill presence sliced in, flaring t h e smith ' s coals
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