[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

 Yes.
He tossed a handful of black bits at the fire, wiped his hand on the stone
flagging. After a moment he said,  The three of you were looking washed out.
 We wouldn t hurt you or any of the others.
 Hurt. I wonder what you mean by that. He began chunking the hilt against
another lump of coal, not looking at her.  What happens when we get to Durat?
 I don t know. How could I? My father, my brothers, my folk, I have to find
them and break them loose. You knew that before you took up with me. I don t
want to have to choose between you ... and the others ... and my people, Taga,
keep you clear if I can. I ll leave you once we get to Durat, I ll change the
way I look. She shrugged.  What more can I do? You knew it was a gamble when
you agreed to bring me to Durat. You know what I was. You want to back, out
now?
 You could destroy me.
 Yes.
Page 123
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
 Make it impossible for me to work where there are Temuengs.
 Yes.
 You knew that in Silili.
 Yes.
 You know us now. We re friends, if not friends, then colleagues. And still,
if you have to, you ll destroy us.
 Yes.
 All right. As long as it s clear. He smiled suddenly, a wry self-mocking
twist of his lips.  You re right. I gambled and I knew it. Your gold to
finance a tour and a chance for the Emperor s Sigil against the chance you d
get us chopped. He touched his shoulder.  Tungjii s tough on fainthearts. I
go on. As for your leaving us, could cause more talk than if you stayed.
You re part of the troupe the Duratteese are waiting to see. Until we perform
at the Emperor s Court, if we ever do, you re part of the troupe, remember
that and be careful.
She lifted her hands, looked at them, let them fall.  As careful as I m let,
Taga.
5. Brann s Quest Andurya Durat: The Rescue and Attendant Wonders
TAGUILOA STOPPED the wagon at the top of a stiff grade, sat looking down a
winding road to the oasis of Andurya Durat. Dry brown barren mountains,
ancient earth s bones sucked clean of life and left to wither, two files of
them blocking east and west winds, funnelling south the ice winds of the
northern plains. Andurya Durat, doubly green and fecund when set against those
mountains, steamy damp dark green, lush, born from the hot springs at the
roots of Cynamacamal, the highest of the hills, its angular symmetry hidden by
a belt of clouds, its cone-peak visible this day, splashed thick with
blue-white snow.
Absently stroking and patting the neck of her fractious mount, Brann stared at
the mountain, feeling immensely and irrationally cheered. It was a barebones
replica of Tincreal; she felt the presence of Slya warm and comfort-ing. She
would win her people free, she didn t know how yet, but that was only a
detail.
Taguiloa watched her gaze at the mountain and won-dered what she saw to make
her smile like that, with a gentleness and quiet happiness he hadn t seen in
her be-fore. He turned back to the road, frowned down at the dark blotch on
the shores of the glittering lake, sucked in a breath and put his foot on the
brake as he slapped the reins on the cob s back, starting him down the long
steep slope, wishing he could put a brake on Brann. Godalau grant she didn t
run wild through those Temuengs down there.
ANDURYA DURAT. Stuffed with Temuengs of all ranks. Glit-tering white marble
meslaks like uneven teeth built on the shores of the largest lake, snuggling
close to the monu-mental pile still unfinished that housed the Emperor and his
servants, vari-sized compounds where the Meslar over-lords lived and drew
taxes from the Jamars in the south, the Basshar nomad chiefs in the north.
Along the rivers and on the banks of the cluster of smaller lakes, there were
Inns and Guesthouses that held Jamars from the south come up to seek an
audience from the Emperor so they could boast of it to their neighbors, to
seek legal judgments from the High Magistrate, come up to the capital for a
thousand other reasons, and there were tent grounds and corrals that held the
Basshars and their horse breeders down from the Grass with pampered pets from
their tents to sell for Imperial gold, with herds of kounax for butchering,
with leatherwork, with cloth woven from the long strong kounax hair, with
yarn, rope, glues, carved bones and other products of the nomad life.
Scattered among the farms that fed the city were riding grounds for the horse
and mallet games played with bloody kounax heads, a noisy brutal cherished
reminder of the old days when the Durat Temuengs were nomad herders on the Sea
of Grass, ambling behind their blatting herds, fighting little wars over water [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]