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TRAINING in the ART of GUNNERY will be provided.
A Cook, Armorer, Cobbler, and Smith are also needed.
Great Pay- - - - - - - - -Great Risk
Past Faerie? That meant Melawei. The slavers raided into Melawei all the time,
but they didn't hire mercenaries to help them. They'd only do that if there
was something more dangerous than a bunch of Mel
No.
Father was going after the sword, and Ahrmin was going after him.
He snatched the broadside down from the wall and dashed for the arching door.
"Doria!"
Two slim women emerged from the shadows, barring his way. "You may not enter
the Residence, Jason Cullinane," the nearest one said.
"
Doria!
" he shouted again.
But there was no answer.
"I have to see her "
"You may not enter."
Neither of them was close to his size; he tried to push past them as gently as
possible, but one of them caught his left wrist with her slim hand, the long,
delicate fingers wrapping themselves tightly around his wrist.
He should have been able to break the grip with a twitch of his arm, but as
the woman muttered words that could only be uttered and forgotten, her grip
tightened, and then tightened some more, until his bones threatened to break.
Time froze as Jason's free hand fastened on the hilt of his bowie, and he
started to draw his knife.
"Ta havath," Doria's clear contralto proclaimed, shattering the moment. "What
is it, Jason?" she asked, separating him from the others, rubbing at his wrist
with strong fingers that seemed to ease
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impossible.
"Read this."
Doria's face went ashen. "Past Faerie. It "
"It has to mean what we think it does," Jason said. "These are going up all
over the city."
"It must be," Doria said, as she turned to the other two Hand women. Their
fingers met and clasped for a moment, before she turned back to Jason.
"The word is out," she said. "Karl is making an overland try for the sword,
and Ahrmin plans to beat him by sea." She gripped his arm, with far more
strength than she had any right to. "He's painted a target on his back, and
Ahrmin is setting sail to put a cluster of arrows in the bullseye."
Jason nodded. "How soon?"
"I don't know. But we had best find out."
"That we had."
The night passed slowly, as they lay on their blankets in the single room they
had rented. The night was hot and muggy; sweat ran down Jason's forehead and
into his eyes as he sat at the window, looking out into the street.
He rubbed his stinging eyes. He couldn't sleep; it was just too hot. He
uncorked a jug of water and tilted it back. The water was blood temperature;
it quelled his thirst without giving him any satisfaction at all.
"I don't know, Doria what can we do?"
Getting an opportunity to kill Ahrmin was out, now; the slaver was due to
leave in only a couple of days, and he'd certainly be unusually careful until
he left, his suspicious mind open to the possibility of an attack.
Of course, Jason could sign on with Ahrmin... possibly.
But what good would that do?
Doria muttered a few harsh words that could only be forgotten. Jason turned to
see a fat, dark-
haired woman of about fifty, who reminded him of U'len.
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"I picked it from your mind," Doria said. "U'len looks like a cook. I..." Her
voice trailed off into a gurgle, as she staggered back against the wall and
slipped to the floor, one outstretched arm fluttering at him to keep his
distance.
"
I can't help you, " she said, her form shimmering, waves of shadow washing
across her bulk. The voice wasn't hers, not realty, it was richer, deeper,
older, more powerful.
"No," she said in her own voice. "I
can do what "
"No.
I can't
"
"Yes. I can take on a form that will protect me. I can go where I please, and
I can disguise myself for my own protection. For my own protection, I can
disguise myself."
She clenched her fists tightly, leaning back into shadow as dark sweat beaded
on her forehead.
Jason picked up a cloth, uncorked the water jug to wet it, and went to wipe
her forehead.
"No. Keep your distance. My burden. Price to... pay for challenging the
Mother."
He pushed aside the vague fingers and daubed at her face. "Easy, Doria. Easy."
The cloth came away dark with blood.
Doria held up a hand. "Don't come closer. You'll only make it worse."
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His gorge rose; he fell to his hands and knees and vomited until he was bent
over double, his belly wracked with pain from the dry heaves.
"Jason... I'll be okay. Jason.
Jason.
"
He waved her away as he tried to get his churning belly under control. He had
to; he just had to. If they were going to sign up with Ahrmin tomorrow, he'd
have to be in command of himself.
"I'll... be okay, too," he said. "And call me Taren. Even when we're alone."
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE:
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Ahrmin
In a well-governed country, poverty is something to be ashamed of. In a badly
governed country, wealth is something to be ashamed of.
Kung-Fu-Tze
His heart thrumming a steady backbeat, Jason slowly advanced in the line;
outside the Slavers'
Guildhall.
He wasn't impressed with the others in line with him; they were a dirty bunch
of swordsmen.
But he couldn't really look down on them. Maybe they weren't cowards.
"Where you from, boy?" the man in front of him asked, probably just to make [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]