The Desert Spear. Peter Brett V.

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СКАЧАТЬ gritted his teeth. She was the one he wanted, but as Khevat had warned, wife or no, Inevera was dama’ting, and he could not simply take her the way he would another woman. He opened his mouth, and then closed it again.

      Did she really cast the bones for everything? Sometimes it seemed Inevera just used claims of their foretellings to get him to act as she wished, but she had not been wrong yet, and it was true he needed more sons if he was to restore the line of Jardir to its former glory. Did it really matter which wife he took? Everalia was comely enough from behind.

      He headed for the bedchamber, pulling off his robes.

      They waited.

      As cries of battle rang through the outer layers, and wind demons shrieked in the sky, they waited.

      As other men went to Everam in glory, they waited.

      “No alagai sighted,” Shanjat relayed, signaling back to the nie’Sharum on the wall.

      “None will be sighted!” Hasik growled, and there was a rumble of assent from Jardir’s men. Fifty of the best warriors of the Kaji crouched with them in the ambush pocket. Wasted.

      “There is still time to find glory, if we join other units,” Jurim said.

      Jardir knew he must kill the idea before it could take root in the minds of the others. He thrust his spear butt between Jurim’s eyes, knocking him to the ground.

      “I will personally spear anyone who leaves their post without my orders,” he said loudly. The others nodded as Jurim struggled to his feet, clutching his bloodied face.

      Jardir looked upon the men, the finest dal’Sharum the Desert Spear had to offer, and felt profound shame. The Sharum Ka’s jealousy was directed at him, but it was the men who suffered. Men bred and born to kill alagai, denied their destiny by an old man afraid of losing power. Not for the first time, Jardir envisioned killing the First Warrior, fair challenge or no, but such a crime would be without honor, and would likely cost his life as well as his legacy.

      Just then a horn sounded, and Jardir snapped back to attention. The pattern told him it was a cry for assistance.

      “Watchers!” he called, and the two Watchers from his unit, Amkaji and Coliv, sprang forward. They attached the ends of their twelve-foot, iron-shod ladders in an instant, running to the wall. No sooner had Amkaji set the ladder than Coliv was running up it, taking the rungs three at a time, his weight never seeming to fully come down on a foot before he was lifting it again. He reached the walltop in an instant, scanning the terrain. A moment later he signaled that it was safe for Jardir’s ascent.

      Jardir had been wary of the Watchers when he first took command of his unit, for they were of another tribe, the Krevakh. But he had come to know their hearts, and Amkaji and Coliv were as loyal to him and as devoted to alagai’sharak as any of his own tribesmen. The Krevakh were wholly devoted to serving the Kaji, as their nemesis tribe, the Nanji, served the Majah.

      By law, the two Watchers were embedded with Jardir’s unit day and night, for the Watchers had specialized training in exotic weapons and fighting styles, and had skills essential to any kai’Sharum. Acrobatics. Information gathering. Hit-and-run combat.

      Assassination.

      As Amkaji held the ladder, Jardir and Shanjat ran up the wall. Coliv held his far-seeing glass out to Jardir.

      “Sharach tribe, fourth layer,” he supplied, pointing.

      “Learn more,” Jardir ordered, taking the glass, and Coliv ran off, his balance perfect across the narrow wall. Watchers carried neither spear nor shield to weigh them, and Coliv was fast gone from sight.

      “The Sharach are a small tribe,” Shanjat said. “They bring barely two dozen warriors to alagai’sharak. Only a fool would put such a small unit in the fourth layer.”

      “A fool like the Sharum Ka,” Jardir replied.

      Coliv returned a moment later. “A cluster of alagai reached them, and avoided the pit. They have many warriors down, and no reinforcements close enough who are not engaged themselves. They will be overrun in minutes.”

      Jardir gritted his teeth. “No, they will not. Ready the men.”

      Shanjat laid a hand on his arm. “The Sharum Ka ordered us to guard the tenth,” he reminded him, but when Jardir nodded and did not say more, he broke into a wide smile.

      “We will never get to the fourth layer in time, kai’Sharum,” Coliv said, scanning the Maze with his sharp eyes. “Many battles rage in between. The way is not clear.”

      “Then lower ropes,” Jardir ordered. “I want every man on the wall now.”

      They ran the walltops like nie’Sharum; fifty adult warriors in full battle dress. Treacherous enough for barefoot and agile boys in nothing but their bidos, it was far more so for men in sandals and heavy armored robes, carrying spear and shield.

      But these were Kaji dal’Sharum, Jardir’s elite. They ran fearlessly, whooping with delight as they leapt from wall to wall, feeling like boys as the night wind whipped their faces, ready to die like men.

      Jardir, running in the lead, felt it more than anyone. The Sharum Ka would be furious with him, but Nie take him before he let an entire tribe die out to appease the First Warrior’s pride.

      A trip that would have taken many times as long in the Maze was accomplished in minutes atop the walls, and the Sharach unit quickly came into view. There were more than a dozen alagai in the ambush pocket, cutting off all avenues of escape. At least half the Sharach were down, and those who remained stood on the defensive, back-to-back and shield-to-shield as demons came at them from all sides.

      They stood as men before an overwhelming force of alagai, and the sight enraged Jardir’s Krasian heart. He would let no more dal’Sharum die this night.

      “Take heart, Sharach!” he cried. “The Kaji come to your aid!” He was the first to set his hook and throw a rope down into the pocket, rappelling the twenty feet in two quick hops. He didn’t even wait for his men, charging in with his warded shield leading, taking a sand demon in the back. The wards flared, and the demon was thrown away from the failing Sharach circle.

      Jardir paid the stunned creature no further mind, moving on to the next demon with a thrust of his spear, driving it back with a series of precise strikes to the weakest parts of its armor. Behind him, he heard the roar of his fifty as they poured down the wall, and knew his back was secure.

      “Everam watched your stand with pride, brother!” Jardir cried to the Sharach kai’Sharum, whose white veil was red with blood. “See to your wounded now! We will finish your glorious start and see that the Sharach fight another day!”

      The third demon Jardir charged turned to face him and caught his spear in its jaws, splintering the wood. The impact threw Jardir off balance, and the creature hooked the edge of his shield on its talon. It flexed its corded arm, and the shield straps snapped. Jardir hit the ground hard, dodging aside as the creature came at him. For a moment, the demon had the advantage, but the Sharach kai’Sharum slammed into it from the side, knocking it away from him.

      “The Sharach will fight to the last, my brother!” СКАЧАТЬ