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before starting back after
Anna and the horse.
Soft footfalls made her turn in time to see the swordsmon spring out of the
shadows. She pivoted, ducking to catch him by the sword wrist, and threw him.
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She came down on his arm with her knees to force the weapon from his grasp.
"Powers of Earth!" The Euzadi oath came out sharply.
"Hazier, you blind chekaya!" Chimquar shoved herself off the youth, thrusting
roughly aside. "I taught you better! I had more sense at nine winters!"
"Chimquar," the youth said softly, as though to speak louder would betray the
strained edge of his voice. "I did not think."
"That was a good way to get yourself killed!" Chimquar almost shouted, then
lowered her voice with an effort. "I
could have cut you in half before I knew."
"Chimquar," he asked softer still. "How is it you are here?"
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190
Chimquar halted, swallowing words and the brittle edge of her anger. "Hazier?
Hazier, what is wrong with you?" What did she hear in his voice? The Euzadi
did not weep. But she had raised him was he less than Euzadi?
"Makajia..." He choked on his sister's name. "I am no warrior I could not "
His voice broke.
"No more than you are a grown mon. Not all are
Torrundarsdottir or our chieftain Maruic."
The moon reached its zenith, revealing the anguish robbing his narrow Euzadi
face of the maturity he strove for.
To see that in her wild, young Hazier smote Chimquar a sore blow. By Sharani
standards he had been adult for two years, but by Euzadi he still had a year
to go. Her hands hesitated in reaching for him, for she could never predict
his reactions.
She sat back, looking at him wordlessly. How could she forget his age so
easily and expect him to be Anaria? Anaria had been her right hand before
their ma'aram died. Anaria. The more she looked at the youth she had raised on
the plains, the more he seemed like Anaria. She had never seen it before, only
expected it. But it was Anaria on the wold, Chimquar remembered, weeping, yet
cursing, and begging her not to run off like a rash idiot.
"Hazier." She grasped his shoulders, expecting him to recoil, surprised when
he did not. "Hazier, you need not fear
."
I have let only one person down in my life. Which is probably why my god never
abandoned me, even after the High Priest broke my sword.
"The gypsy brought me. Hazier, listen, together we can rescue Makajia."
Chimquar glanced over her shoulder. "Anna," she called.
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191
The gypsy did not answer. Chimquar rose and re-traced her steps. She found the
stallion cropping grass, but no sign of Anna. Chimquar cast about for the
woman, but Anna could have concealed herself in a thousand shadowed crevices
among the fallen stone; and she had taken care to leave no traces of her
passing. It had not been the hurried flight of a frightened woman, and that
added to the warrior's disquiet.
Hazier joined her. "She is gone, Chimquar?"
Chimquar nodded grimly, "Back to her bloody master."
Hazier sheathed his sword. "Makajia is in the tower, and there is no door," he
said calmly, having regained his composure.
"They did not fly. There is a way in."
"I have searched since before the sun set."
"And I have searched once before. But I know the ways of those half-demons,"
she said with more confidence than she felt. "They all have their secret
doors."
The Sharani approached the tower, watching for Anna. The high windows were
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lit, and she stared up at them, wishing for a good Sharani longbow and a
length of rope. Or a grappling hook. Instead, she ran her hands over the
seamless ivory, seeking the smallest crack that would open a hidden door.
Finally, she sat back with a curse.
Hazier shook his head. "I searched many more hours."
"Well, it exists, damn it!" She leaped up and hurled a rock against the tower.
"Perhaps she can hear us." Chimquar moved nearer the windows. "Makajia!
Makajia!"
A small whimper answered her.
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192
"Makajia!" She shouted again, hope rising. "Come to the window. We are here
for you."
"Chimquar!" Hazier shouted. She caught the alarm in his voice, whirling, sword
in hand. Bright light streamed from an opening in the ground, silhouetting
eight seven foot shapes.
The stench of decaying flesh hung upon those eaters of carrion, warriors of
Diangar; and she knew them by it.
"Kargrens! Spawn of demons and satyr women, they hated the bright sun of the
plains, haunting the shadowed woodlands. It took great power to summon them
from the north.
Hazier retreated to her side. "What manner of creatures?"
"Kargrens," she repeated, using the Sharani word. The
Euzadi had no name for them. "Spawn of Diangar," she explained tautly.
"Can they be slain?"
The first one rushed forward too eagerly, brandishing its curved sword. She
sprang under its guard, blade-edge slicing deeply below its ribs. That
answered Hazier's question.
Chimquar did not stand to meet the rest; they were too large and strong to
exchange blows with. She sprang over the stubby, tumbled remains of a wall,
dodging blows that could behead an ox. Two Kargrens halted at the edge of the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]