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The centaur pointed to various features on the map. Then he scratched his
head. "I don't know what
Maligor wants with the gold mines. There's a tharchion who supervises the
mines. He's appointed by all the zulkirs jointly. The tharchion isn't going to
throw in with Maligor, or with Szass Tam, for that matter,"
Wynter added. "Besides, the mines are north of here. Galvin said Maligor's
army moved east."
"Could a large bird fly to the mines in an evening?" Galvin asked. "Are the
mines close enough?"
The centaur knit his brows, puzzled at the question. "I suppose it could," he
answered, "if the bird could fly fast. It really isn't all that far, but it
would take a man several days, perhaps, to walk there."
Galvin sighed, then grinned at his Harper friend. Wynter certainly seemed to
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be recovering. The druid
wanted the centaur fit and at his side when the confrontation with Maligor
came.
"I don't know for sure what Maligor is up to, but I'll wager he's going after
the mines," the druid suggested.
"Are we going to the mines?" Brenna asked. "After we rest?" she added
hopefully.
"I need to rest." Galvin stood shakily. "There are beds in the apprentices'
chambers, where we put the slaves. I'd like to sleep there. I'd feel more
comfortable for a change with plenty of company around."
"I'll join you later," the centaur said, eyeing the long, circular staircase.
"I've got some thinking to do first."
Brenna and Galvin slowly climbed the stairs. Above, in the chamber, they saw
that many of the slaves were sleeping. A few groups remained awake, talking in
low voices among themselves and examining some of the baubles they had
collected.
The hare, mole, and hedgehog rested on a large silk pillow beneath the window.
The druid approached one of the older slaves. "We need to sleep awhile. Wake
us in the early afternoon. I have to go into Amruthar to buy horses before the
market closes."
"Horses?" Brenna asked incredulously. "There's nothing wrong with the ones we
have. They'll certainly be rested enough."
"We can't ride dead ones." Galvin's tone was terse. "It seems that some of the
zombies got hungry last night while we explored the tower."
The druid selected an unoccupied bed against the far wall, far from the
windows, where it was darker.
Removing his sword belt, tabard, and chain shirt, he pushed them under the
bed, lay down, and made room for Brenna.
The enchantress paused, uncertain of what to do.
The druid stretched and raised his head off the satin-covered pillow. His
green eyes gazed up at her.
"Brenna . . . ?"
The young councilwoman eased off her boots and climbed in beside him. He
curled about her protectively and held her close about her waist.
"I thought you preferred to sleep on the ground," she said.
"Shhh," he replied, nuzzling the back of her neck.
She enjoyed the sensation, but it stopped much too quickly. Already the druid
was sound asleep.
Fourteen
The dense fog lay across the land like a heavy gray blanket, its wispy
tendrils wrapping themselves tightly around the dead trees, concealing them.
Galvin picked his way through the cloaked terrain, one hand extended in front
of him. The fog was so thick he could barely see six inches in front of his
face. His other hand was firmly wrapped around Brenna's wrist.
Slowly he inched forward with one foot, discovering a fallen limb and gingerly
stepping over it. He knew he couldn't afford stepping on a branch that would
crack and give them away.
The druid was uncertain how long they had been moving away from Maligor's
tower, but he knew they hadn't covered enough ground to satisfy him. He tried
to increase the pace.
His hand met a branch, spooking a horned owl that had been perching on it. The
bird hooted loudly as it flew high into the fog, and Galvin's heart raced.
Behind him, quite nearby, he heard the rustle of bushes and the snap of twigs.
It was the sound of their pursuers. The druid considered standing still like a
statue and pulling Brenna close to him; those following might pass by
harmlessly in the fog. But then he heard their voices. Panicking, he ran,
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pulling Brenna along behind him.
"Death we will bring you," hissed a hollow voice. "We will tear the muscles
from your bones and wash our bodies in your blood. You will taste sweet
death."
Faster and faster Galvin and Brenna ran, scraping their skin against the
coarse bark of fog-concealed trees, nearly stumbling over unseen rocks and
fallen branches. The air felt chill, signaling the nearness of the advancing
wraiths, but still the druid and enchantress ran on.
"Hurry, Brenna," Galvin whispered. "We've got to make it. We're almost to the
escarpment."
The fog seemed thinner here as their feet continued to pound over the Thayvian
soil. The druid could begin to make out the shapes of trees and bushes and a
horse and rider no, it was Wynter ahead. He pulled Brenna toward the centaur.
"Galvin!" Wynter shouted at the sight of his friend. "I've been looking for
you. I've been wanting to tear out your weak, mortal heart."
The druid halted, open-mouthed, in front of his Harper ally. From a distance,
the fog had masked the centaur's undead state. Wynter's angular face was now
skeletal and covered with bits of rotting flesh. Ribs protruded from his
equine rear portion, and he reeked of the grave.
Galvin screamed, then immediately awoke to find himself curled about Brenna in
a soft bed in Maligor's tower. The enchantress slept soundly, oblivious to the
druid's nightmare.
The druid withdrew his arm from about Brenna's waist and rubbed his eyes. He
guessed he must have slept eight or more hours, and he was surprised one of
the slaves hadn't awakened him earlier. Reluctantly he left the soft bed,
gently moving away from Brenna. He wanted to let her sleep a little while
longer.
The slaves and most of the furnishings were gone. Galvin surmised that the
slaves had looted
Maligor's tower and fled while he slumbered. He pulled his chain armor from
under the bed, dressed, and strapped on his sword. Then, carrying his boots in
the crook of his right arm, he shoved Szass Tam's black tabard back under the
bed with his bare feet.
Galvin strode to the far side of the room, where he had spied a basin full of
water. The bowl was porcelain, and the slaves likely would have taken it, he
thought, had it not been so large. The druid bent forward and splashed water
on his face and arms, then padded out into the hallway and put on his boots.
Galvin knew he needed to get to the Amruthar market quickly, to purchase the
horses for himself and
Brenna. Running down the circular stairs, he found Wynter at the bottom.
"I was just coming in to wake you," the centaur said, grinning broadly. "I'm
glad I didn't have to. I didn't want to climb all those stairs."
The druid scrutinized his friend. "How are you feeling?"
Wynter frowned. "I feel terrible. I'm in Thay." The centaur paused and reached
up to scratch the spot on his head where the plant had attacked him. "But at [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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