taken a lot of killing and his hide had been completely spoiled by the time
that Laetus managed to dispatch him. Spellcord bound each of Cuntkin's wrists
separately, blocking her ability to change shape. Laetus pointed at her as he
turned to the soldier.
"Beat her bloody."
"What did I do?" she cried out, trying to crawl away from the soldier, who
snatched her off the bed by the arm.
Laetus gave her a look of infinite weariness and flicked the strand of black
hair that had come loose at her. "This is what you did."
The soldier took a small whip from his belt and struck her across the back,
opening a long tear. She screamed.
Laetus folded his arms and watched, laughing as the beating proceeded. "If you
keep displeasing me, bitch, you'll end on my altar."
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145
"Oh gods, mercy."
Laetus turned to the soldier with languid indifference. "You have my
permission to enjoy her while I'm gone."
The soldier grinned. "Thank you my lord."
* * * *
Laetus unrolled a map and laid it out on the table with some stones to hold it
flat and in place. He summoned his lieutenants and captains with a gesture and
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began explaining how they would hit the village from both ends, with a
skirmish line on the perimeters in case any of the villagers attempted to flee
into the nearby forest. This would be pleasant, simple, and over quickly.
This would be his first large scale action. Raiding isolated steadings had
been too easy. Egidius and Malthus had been holding him back for months, not
giving him his own command until now. Laetus would show them both that he had
grown into a sa'necari to be reckoned with.
Captain Yulus Savakis, an unusually dour mon for a sa'necari, had been a
career officer in the army of the late king Baaltrystan. Although having been
born sa'necari, his mixed blood showed in his height just over six feet and
his heavy features. He came to the table flanked by his aide-de-
camp, Pio Vadis, who had been made sa'necari by Yulus; and his lieutenant
Tarchon Giuliani, a sa'necari-born from the lower classes.
Yulus had just started to study the map when Laetus interrupted him. "Not that
one. I have a special task for your units, Yulus."
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146
"If you're thinking about leaving me out of the fighting..."
Yulus' bared his fangs in sour disdain.
"Not at all." Laetus extended a rolled map at Yulus.
The captain took it, pulled the string holding it closed, opened, and scanned
it. "This is Longbranch."
"So it is." Laetus pursed his lips with an impish gleam in his eyes. "Malthus
wants you to kill a school teacher and his family."
"Faugh! A schoolteacher? You're sending my units after some nancidawg chalk
merchant?"
"He's Tarrant Redhand's bastard."
* * * *
Brother Malcolm was a wiry, energetic wolf from the
Monastery of St. Albans who had been assigned to Father
Gileaus as an aide. He wore his hair trimmed neatly level with the bottom of
his earlobes and tonsured. A member of the
Order of St. Tarmus, devoted to the preservation of history and literature, he
wore a forest green robe and hooded cowl symbolizing his devotion to the
natural world. A wide leather belt cinched his waist, holding his pouches; and
a prayer belt of carved wooden beads in the form of scrolls and books rested
around his hips. His 'runes' of Willodarus and Tala hung on a slender chain
around his neck. The long straps of a pair of satchels crisscrossed his lean
chest and a large knapsack rested on his back.
He stood at the side of Blacktooth Falls, watching the rushing waters. The
ferry was on the other side, and knowing
Gavin MacLoud, it was probably there for the day. MacLoud
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enjoyed sitting in the taverns, gossiping and drinking at every opportunity.
He glanced up at the rope bridge suspended between two towering chestnut trees
and considered it. A merchants consortium had built the rope bridge and
maintained it for the purpose of sending someone over on foot to drag MacLoud
out of the taverns when they needed the ferry.
Malcolm felt thankful that he had chosen to come on foot and could use the
bridge without having to abandon a horse.
He fiddled with the end of his belt of beads and seeds.
Grasping the stout rope ladder, he tested it, knowing that it paid to be
careful and remembering the nasty prank that the Brownlea cubs had once played
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on Eldeward Gooseberry by cutting through the ropes at the top. Malcolm
climbed quickly despite the weight he carried and scrambled onto the bridge. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]