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[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] knife, and the whetstone's whisperedstroke went silent. Taen's skin prickled with alarm. With thesensitivity of her dream-sense upset by an overpowering threat of violence, she saw Jaric must desist, or risk destruction. She acted without thought, and initiated the rapport shared through the dangerous recovery of the Keys to Elrinfaer.For she knewthe single fact which could forestall his headlong course andprotect him from the Kielmark's wrath.Given no time to softenfact, Taen balanced her gift, bent Jaric's mind to aplace leagues distant, and forced him to see. Under her influence, the chamber rippled, transformed,became a misty shore haunted by the dissonant cries of gulls.In the smoke-dimmed interior of a shack which reeked of fish,a girl wept over the body of an elderly man. Closed in death,his eyes no longer shone with the piercing clarity of a sailor;work-crippled hands lay slack against mottled, silver-tippedfurs costly enough to clothe a prince. Through the rapport of the dream-link, Taen felt the echo of Jaric's shock as he recognized the girl and her uncle. Hisgrief cut like a cry through darkness, for the man, MathiesonKeldric, had once answered a boy's desperate need and traded his only treasure for a cloak of ice otter fur he had not wanted.Repaired and seaworthy,Callinde had sailed; Jaric had beenspared, but the loss of a beloved boat had broken the oldman's heart. The link shattered, dissolved into firelight and book-smellas Jaric wrenched free."Kordane's Blessed Fires!" He turnedtortured eyes to Taen, and she read therea desperation beyondher ability to fathom. "You might have spared me that!" She stared at thecarpet, her toes jabbed angrily into pat-terned wool. Tears stung her lashes. She held them back, de-termined Jaric should not see. Spare him she could not; had hepersisted in sailing for Mearren Ard, the Kielmark would havelost his temper, and in the unpredictable reaction which fol-lowed, the Firelord's sole heir might easily have been killed. "So," the Kielmark concluded. Muscle rippled under histunic as he braced one arm against the mantel. "You'll not besailing to return your craft to a corpse." Jaric sat spear-straight in his chair. Steam drifted from histankard, wound lazy ribbons through the air before him. "Nei-ther will I sail for the Isle of the Vaere. I'm going to Landfast to study the libraries instead." Corley stopped breathing. The Kielmark released a great,rowdy laugh, but the sound held menace like barbs wrapped invelvet. "I'd kill you," he said simply. Page 36 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html "I'd let you." Jaric's hands remained motionless in his lap.He held the Kielmark's furious gaze and his voice continued,passionless as ice water through the charged atmosphere of theroom. "Better I died, I think, than accept the madness, therecklessness, and the cruelty of my father's heritage." The Kielmark's brows knotted. His eyes narrowed in sur-prise and he glanced swiftly at Taen. The enchantress nodded, dream-sent a spurious messagemuch as she had when in the heat of the battle she had helpeddefend Cliffhaven against the demons.'He means it, Lord.Jaric has been pressured as much as a man can be, and stillbelieve in himself. Remember and be cautious. He faced downthe Stormwarden before you, and lost.' The Kielmark stretched like a dog kicked out of sleep. Heran thick fingers through his hair and suddenly grinned."You're a bold one, I'll give you that," he said to Jaric. "And more like Ivain than you'd know, there's fact if ever you dis-cover manhood enough to face it." His manner changed,abruptly turned to challenge."Why Landfast?" Jaric drew a shaky breath and spoke over the careful scrapeof Corley's knife. "I intend to find an alternative answer tosorcery." "Ah." The Kielmark pushed off from the mantel, began restlessly pacing the rug. "Then you'll sail there onMoonless,and Corley will captain." Jaric made a slight sound. Before Taen could gather ashred of power in defense, the Kielmark plucked the swordfrom the cherub's back. Steel sang from his sheath with killingspeed. In one spinning instant, the bare blade lay poisedagainst Jaric's neck. Corley froze in place. Taen felt her hands break into sweat. With painstaking control she balanced herawareness, knowing all the while her powers were useless.Whether or not she stunned the Kielmark unconscious, thesword lay too close for safety. If the hand that held the weapon loosened, the weight of the blade alone would cut the fleshbeneath. The Kielmark spoke into sudden stillness, his voice barely audible over the snap of the fire in the grate. "You'll listen,Firelord's heir." His fist tightened; steel pressed against Jaric's skin, drawing a thin bead of blood. "One hundred and eighty-four ofmy best men lie dead because of the Keys to Elrinfaer.I'll not repeat the experience, not for pride or any man's pro-test. Where you go, the Keys go. Demons and trouble willfollow like sharks on a gaffed fish. You know this." The Kielmark's wrists flexed, and the sword lifted soabruptly the edge sang through the air. "You may have yourtime at Landfast.But only if you and that Dreamweaver boardMoonlessat once.There's a man waiting at the docks with a longboat. If you wish, your sloopCallinde may go along intow, but you'll sailnowhere without my escort. Am I clear?" Jaric swallowed, nodded, and touched a finger to the tinydrop of blood on his neck. Beside the Kielmark's great bulk,he seemed slight to the point of fragility. His brown eyes turned poignant with uncertainty, as if he doubted his choice. Yet at length he stirred and stood. "So," said the Kielmark. He sounded strangely tired."You're dismissed." Like a warning, Corley's whetstone and knife stayed silent.Taen set her tankard down. Her hands shook and she dreaded the act of standing. Sapped by a Page 37 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html sudden, fervent desire to besafelyback on the Isle of the Vaere, she shut her eyes to regain her composure. A touch smoothed the hair against her shoulder. Taen looked, found Jaric before her with one handextended. He half lifted her to her feet. Through his wirystrength, she felt the tremors which shook him; but whether he shivered from cold or the aftermath of fear she could not tell. "Corley, I want a word with you." The Lord of Cliffhaven rested his sword point downward against the carpet. He staredthrough the rain-washed glass of the casement, and did notmove until Dreamweaver and Firelord's heir had departed. Crossing The latch clicked shut, and the sound of footsteps dwindleddown the passage beyond the Kielmark's study. The Lord of Cliffhaven sheathed the sword he had turned upon Jaric andcarefully lowered his muscled bulk into the nearest chair.Light from the candelabra fell full across his face, illuminatingabrasions and bruises left over from his ruse to defeat Kisburn 's army. Four days with too little rest had not encouraged healing. Deison Corley studied the Kielmark's pose with per-ception well honed by familiarity, and at once understoodwhat the effort with the sword had cost. The captain bent withall the tact he possessed and sheathed his dagger in his boot.Then, absorbed by the movement of his hands, he straight- ened, flicked his wrist, and caught the slender blade whichslithered from his sleeve. With what seemed limitless pa-tience, he set steel against whetstone and began rhythmically to hone the point. "That boy is a brash one," the Kielmark said resently. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |