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[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] drew her feet up. "Ma'am!" "Good mornin', kid," muttered Tagalong and flashed him a perfunctory smile before her mouth returned to a glower. She wore her riding leathers and a deep-sleeved blue shirt beneath the jerkin. Her sword rose from her shoulder sheath: she rarely resorted to the blade, preferring the hammer she carried thrust through her belt. A beaded band partially captured her thick, unruly crimson hair, which flared around her plain broad face like a fiery halo. She watched the stairs slapping Aejys' note against her hand. Something was up. Tagalong could feel it in her bones. And Aejys hadn't looked near as happy about having Brendorn back as Tagalong had expected. "No sirree! Ya'r not keepin' me outta this one, Aejys," she muttered to herself. "Is something eating you, Tag?" Becca inquired, setting a tray of eggs and potatoes, a plate of cheddared duck, curried capons, and a bowl of honeyed oatmeal, swimming with butter in front of her. Tagalong shook her head at the food, eliciting an askance glance from Becca who knew the dwarf's enormous appetite. "Who's still here? I know Aejys ain't." "The Ajan Odaren and Tamlestari left about an hour ago to watch at the gates," Becca told her. "Brendorn has not come down yet." "There's trouble, Becca. I don't know what it is, but I'm about to find out," Tagalong told her grimly. "For Aejys?" The light of suspicion grew in the tavern master's eyes while the rest of her face lost expression. Page 31 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html "Yah. I'm beginnin' ta think this wasn't no social call." Shoulda known that when I saw'em. "What can I do?" "Keep yer eyes open." "I'll keep my eyes open, Tag, but understand I'm short handed right now." "Speak of a demon," Tagalong muttered, seeing Brendorn start down the stairs. She sprang from her chair, charging up to him. Her open palm met the half-breed's midsection firmly but not aggressively. Her expression turned savage as she waved the letter in his face. "Ya've got some serious explainin', Brendorn Amaranth of Vallimrah!" Her accent thickened with anger as she pointedly used his Valdren name to imply she felt his connection with Aejys was broken. "Serious explainin'!" Brendorn, who had lingered late into the morning just to touch everything in the room to savor the places her hands had been and the smell of her in the sheets, caught the letter as it brushed his nose. For just an instant both of them held the folded square, then Tagalong Smith released it. He read quickly. "I don't know what you are upset about. She has just gone to a shrine," he said, a look of relief in his eyes. "She hasn't been in a shrine or temple in seven years," Tagalong punctuated each word by tapping him in the mid-section. By the time she started the second sentence Brendorn had begun to wince and by the third to almost flinch. "Not since before Bucharsa. What's got'er roiled enough ta go ta one now? Unless it's something ya said. Ya put a tack in her chair and yer gonna tell me what it was. Ya understand me, Breed!" Tagalong snarled and bits of spittle flew from her mouth, some of it striking the sylvan's face. Brendorn recoiled, his expression pained. He had never seen her so enraged before, especially at him. Her anger frightened him for he was, after all, just a simple gardener. Tagalong had, by choice, spent most of her childhood wandering the Sharani ghettoes, tagging along after anyone or anything that interested her or aroused her curiosity, which had gained her her name, and she had fought her way through the worse war in five hundred years at Aejys' side. All the sylvan quickness in the world would not stop her from giving him a severe pounding if that was what she intended. But even more, Brendorn had always experienced difficulty dealing with the anger of those he loved when it was directed at him. He started to flee, but Tagalong caught him by the tunic. "Just becuz ya don't like the talk don't mean ya can rabbit on me." Brendorn froze, closing his eyes, an unspoken prayer on his lips that she would release him, but Tagalong hung onto him until he opened them again. He looked down at the stout dwarf, who though shorter than he, outweighed him a good fifty pounds. Distress filled his face. "Tag, please, this isn't your business. It's her place to tell you, if she wants to. Not mine." "Aejys has been my business since before ya ever laid eyes on her," Tagalong pointed out stubbornly, her mouth tight and eyes narrowing. She twisted his shirt into a knot and lifted him off his toes. "Paladins make screwy decisions, even lapsed ones, and don't always call fer backup when they need it... I gotta a gut feeling ya've just put Aejys' life on the line again and I wanta know fer what." Brendorn drew a deep breath and surrendered. "So be it, show me your rooms and we will talk there in private. It isn't my story to tell you, but I will. Page 32 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html I am certain Aejys will understand." "Yah, I'm sure she will." * * * * Tagalong's antechamber looked much like the front room of a Kwaklahmyn lodge. They sat on brightly patterned floor pillows around a stout, legless hardwood table which she had purchased from the Kwaklahmyn when she and Aejys had gone up to attend a potlatch given by Thomas Cedarbird's paternal kin. Tagalong was totally impressed with their arts and crafts. Cedar blankets hung as decorations on her walls alongside a pair of crossed harpoons with whalebone tips. A four character totem pole which the local shaman, Broken Branch, designed for Tagalong dominated the northwest corner; earth dragon, cave bear, raven, manticore. When Tagalong had heard his story, she slapped the table, "Answer's easy. The best thing would be to just go in, grab her daughter and leave, side-stepping all the bullshit." Tag fondled her hammer idly as she spoke, adding more to herself than Brendorn, "Very best would be to lock her in the cellar, throw away the key and leave without her. But she'd be hotter than hell when she got out an' be my ass she'd be after." Tagalong lapsed silent for a minute, then picked up her initial trail of thought again. "Try'n ignore Margren and when pressed arrange ta never let her be alone with her sister. Never leave Aejys alone, period. Just never give Margren an opportunity ta put her in an inescapable position. And then get out as quickly as we can. Kaethreyn just wants a chance to try'n talk Aejys into staying home. Look, Brendorn, I got family in Iradrim, I got family in a dozen places we could get to easy. Places we could winter where Margren couldn't reach. So stop worrying. Leave it all to me and nothin' will happen to Aejys. Okay?" Brendorn nodded, forcing a smile. "You always find a way, don't you, Tag?" "Yeah, I do. So we let Aejys think she's in charge, but we both know it's me." * * * * Spruce and fir stretched their sovereign green through the rainshadow east of Vorgensburg, then gave way to the dominance of white fir and willow as the land rolled down into the deeply recessed water hollows stretching like dark fingers toward the south. Aejys dismounted in a willow thicket by a tiny sheltered stream. She could hear the waterfall crashing into the stream beyond the willows. Gwyndar followed. Aejys pushed through the willows, careful to do no harm to them, as they were sacred to Aroana. Strange foreign pantheons of Gods of Light were awakened and drawn to the world of Daverana by the call of the last surviving god of the previous pantheon of light as a holocaust destroyed it. When they began to cleanse and rebuild it, they each brought gifts from other worlds. Aroana brought the willow tree, the tree that wept, as a symbol of her grief at the destruction and loss of life among the elder races of that world. The willows growing [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |