Glen Cook Dread Empire 01 The Fire In His Hands

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Another vocalized agreement from a distance. A gentle breeze climbed the
slope, bringing with it scents of crops still a few weeks short of being
stealably ripe.
The lights died away till Bragi was alone with the darkness and stars. They
formed an immense silver girdle overhead. He stared at them till one broke
free and streaked down the sky. It raced toward Hellin Daimiel.
He shrugged. An omen was an omen. He went and sat across the coals from his
brother, who seemed to be asleep sitting up. Softly, he said, I wonder where
mother is now.
Haaken shook all over, and for a moment Bragi was scared something had
happened. Haaken was the sort who could become deathly ill without saying a
word.
His concern was short-lived. There was enough light in the fire to betray the
tears on Haaken s cheeks.
Bragi said nothing. He was homesick too.
After a time, he remarked, She gave me this locket. He waited till he had
Haaken s attention. She told me we should take it to some people in Hellin
Daimiel. To the House of Bastanos.
That s not people. That s what they call a bank. Where rich men go to borrow
money.
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Oh? He had to think about that. After a few seconds, People run it, don t
they? Maybe that s what she meant. Anyway, we could find out about it before
we tried the Guild.
No. It s too hot down there. They ll hang us. Besides, I don t think Mother
wanted us to go there. Not really. Not unless there was nowhere else we could
go.
The excitement should have died down.
You re fooling yourself, Bragi. I say try the Guild.
You scared of Hellin Daimiel? Bragi was. The city was too huge, too
foreign, too dangerous.
Yes. I don t mind admitting it. It s too different to just jump into. Too
easy for us to get into something we can t handle because we don t know
better. That s why I say go with the Guild.
Bragi saw Haaken s reasoning. The Guild would provide a base of safety while
they learned southern ways.
He fingered his mother s gift, battled homesickness and temporized. In the
morning. We ll decide after we ve slept on it.
He did not sleep well.
Chapter Seven
Wadi el Kuf
El Murid stalked around Sebil el Selib like a tiger caged. Would this
imprisonment never end? Would that villain Yousif never crack? The desert was
on his side, if his advisers were to be believed. Nassef claimed he could
stamp his foot and twenty thousand warriors would respond.
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Why, then, did the Kingdom of Peace still extend no farther than he could
see? Like the Lord Himself, he was running short on patience.
The pressure had been building for months. He was growing increasingly
frustrated, increasingly suspicious of Nassef and his gang of self-made
generals. He had told no one, not even Meryem, but he had begun to believe
that Nassef was keeping him here intentionally, isolating him from his people.
He was not sure why Nassef should want it that way.
Sometimes he took his son or daughter along on his walks, explaining the
wonders of God s handiwork to them. Over Nassef s objections he had had
several scholars brought in to explain some of the less obvious miracles of
nature. And he had begun learning to read and write so that he could
promulgate his laws in his own hand.
But usually he roamed alone, accompanied only by the Invincibles. The
Invincibles were necessary. The minions of the Evil One had tried to murder
him a dozen times. Sometimes it seemed his enemies had more men in his camp
than he did.
He would greet soldiers by name, study the ever growing barracks-city or
inspect the new truck gardens being terraced into the hillsides. The army was
devouring the available flatland. The gardens did not provide enough, but they
helped. Every vegetable raised here meant one fewer that had to be bought on
the coast and transported through the pass. And the fieldwork kept idle hands
from turning to the Evil One.
It rained the day El Murid decided to end his confinement. It was not a
pleasant rain, but one of those driving, bitter storms that beat down the
spirit as easily as they beat down grass and leaves. The rains passed, but
left the sky and his mood low, gray and oppressive, with the potential of
turning foul.
He summoned the captains of the Invincibles.
His bodyguard now consisted of three thousand men. It formed a personal army
independent of that which Nassef commanded. The quiet, mostly nameless men who
formed its brotherhood were absolutely faithful and completely incorruptible.
They had, for the past year, been undertaking operations of their own out in
the desert. Unlike Nassef s men, they did not concentrate on attacking and
looting loyalists. They moved into preponderantly friendly areas and stayed,
assuming both administrative and defense functions. They spoke for the Lord,
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but contained their enthusiasm, proselytizing by example. They did not bother
local loyalists as long as the loyalists observed a strict pacifism and tended
their own business. The areas they occupied were largely free of strife. They
had skirmished with Nassef s men on several occasions because they refused to
allow anyone to disturb the peace of their lands.
Once the commanders assembled, El Murid said, My brother, the Scourge of
God, has returned. Has he not?
Last night, Disciple, someone volunteered.
He hasn t come to see me. Someone go get him.
A half minute after an emissary departed, the Disciple added archly, I d be
indebted if someone could manage to borrow a Harish kill dagger. Though he
knew who the senior members of the cult were, and had several in his presence,
he wanted to allow them their secrecy. They were useful. We ll leave it lying
around as a reminder of where the final authority lies. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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