The Complete Legends of the Riftwar Trilogy: Honoured Enemy, Murder in Lamut, Jimmy the Hand. Raymond E. Feist

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СКАЧАТЬ this world, though, I can die, the same as you, and trust my word, we shall both certainly die within the hour if you do not act now.’

      ‘You came back. Why?’

      How to explain? He could claim loyalty to his friend Gregory. That was true, but it was something beyond that. This entire war was one of madness: perhaps the Tsurani before him had slain some of his kin. And yet, he had a curiosity to see how this affair would play out and with that a sense that it was not destined to end here over this foolish squabble.

      ‘Because I want to live and the best chance for that at this moment is for us to band together. Trust me. I know the moredhel in a way you do not and never will. They will not give up on the pursuit, for in their eyes we have wronged them grievously. Their honour demands that we be hunted down and killed no matter what the cost. Tsurani, I will tell you more later, but there is no time now. Order your men to go.’

      Asayaga hesitated, then nodded. Issues of honour, no matter whose, he understood. He turned and said something in his own language which Tinuva sensed was a rueful curse. Then he pulled off his tunic and leggings, and barked out a string of commands. The others hesitated and then one of the older men, shaking his head and laughing began to strip as well. To his companions he shouted, ‘My manhood is shrunken with the cold. What is your excuse?’

      Minutes later Asayaga lead the column into the river.

      ‘Go with them,’ Gregory said, ‘I’ll bring up the rear.’

      Tinuva nodded. Casting aside the cloak, he fell in behind Asayaga, oblivious to the curious stares of the Tsurani. Once their commander went into the river, the others began to follow, cursing and spluttering as they hit the icy water. Half-way across the man in front of Tinuva lost his grip and went under, dropping his staff. Reaching out, he grabbed the warrior and pulled him back, but his equipment had disappeared.

      A shout went up from behind and he saw two more men lose their hold on the line, one of them bobbing back up and clumsily trying to swim, while the other simply vanished.

      Reaching the shoreline again, Tinuva found he could barely move and was grateful for Barry’s help in getting up the river bank. A blanket was spread out on the ground next to the roaring fire and he collapsed, shivering, oblivious for several minutes. Sergeant Barry held a cloak up to the fire for a moment to warm it, then lay it around Tinuva’s shoulders. The contrast with the cold almost made him cry out, but the warmth was enough to revive him. He took a slow breath and willed his arms and legs to move, and at last he stood.

      Naked men pressed in around him, all of them shaking, teeth chattering. A second fire was started, some of Dennis’s men, now fully clothed, bringing up armloads of wood. The sound of axes rang in the woods. Soon there was even the scent of roasting meat. Tinuva saw that someone had found a stag and brought it down. Three men were butchering it, unceremoniously cutting hunks of meat and tossing them straight into the flames to be speared out with sharpened sticks.

      His senses returning, Tinuva struggled back into his trousers, boots and tunic, the spasms of shivering finally passing.

      Asayaga was standing by the edge of the water, still naked, reaching out and pulling each of his men in as they staggered to the shore, urging them up to the fires to dry out.

      Brother Corwin started into the river, modesty demanding that he keep his habit on, though he did cinch it up around his waist. In spite of his portly build he was still strong enough to help two of the wounded, aided by young Richard.

      Gregory was still on the far shore, fully clothed, bow out. A crow rose up from a tree on the far bank squawking loudly. Tinuva saw Gregory tense.

      ‘They’re here,’ Tinuva hissed.

      Dennis was at his side at once, tossing over a bow and quiver and Tinuva bent the weapon, notching the string which he had carefully wrapped up inside an oiled cloth before the crossing.

      The last of the men were in mid-stream. Gregory suddenly cut the rope secured to the tree on his side of the river then sprinted for the water and dived in, still holding his bow. Surfacing, he started across, half-swimming, half-running clumsily through the chest-deep water.

      Tinuva saw a flicker of reflected light, which resolved itself as a mounted man, burnished shield strapped to his left shoulder. Without hesitation, he drew and fired a shaft at the glint. Even if he didn’t hit the target, he might hold the man away from the shore for an extra second or two, gaining those still in the water a safe crossing.

      Another man, this one a mounted archer, came out of the woods, bow drawn, aiming at Gregory.

      Tinuva raised his own weapon again, but this time he didn’t fire as soon as the bow was fully drawn. He hesitated, feeling the breeze on his cheek, judging the range and the drift of the arrow, and then released. The mounted archer fired first. Gregory dived down and the shaft struck the spot where he had disappeared. Then Tinuva’s arrow streaked in, hitting the rider’s horse and the animal reared up, screaming with pain.

      More riders emerged, spreading out along the river bank. Gregory was at mid-stream now, up with Brother Corwin, urging him on, arrows hissing about their ears. A crossbow bolt struck one of the wounded in the back and with a cry he collapsed. Richard tried to grab the fallen man but Gregory pushed him on, pulling Richard under as another bolt snaked in.

      Dennis’s most experienced archers positioned themselves along the river bank next to Tinuva, carefully took aim, and shot their bow-shafts high in the air.

      With the rope on the far shore cut away, the men in the middle of the stream were gradually being swept down by the current. A Tsurani let go, disappearing into the torrent. Asayaga jumped into the river and started to wade back out and Dennis, cursing angrily, followed him in.

      Together they reached Corwin, Richard, Gregory and several of the others. Another went under hit by a crossbow bolt.

      Stepping into a hole, Dennis suddenly disappeared. Tinuva, who had been taking careful aim on what he suspected was one of the human leaders on the far shore, lowered his bow, ready to go into the water yet again. Cries of alarm rose up and half a dozen men jumped into the icy torrent, ready to flounder back out.

      Dennis finally surfaced, held up by Asayaga, and the two regained the shore. His bow gone, Gregory, cursing and gasping, hauled in the priest and Richard.

      Asayaga pushed Dennis up the embankment even as the Tsurani swarmed around their leader.

      Looking around, Dennis cursed wearily, then half-crawled back up the icy slope.

      ‘Noble gesture,’ Tinuva offered.

      Dennis held up a hand to silence him. ‘Not another word,’ he gasped, teeth chattering. He shouldered his way past Tinuva to stand by the fire.

      A dozen mounted men were on the far shore, several of them venturing long shots, but the wind was brisk and the arrows arced down harmlessly. Taunts echoed back and forth across the river as the two sides glared at each other, unable to come to blows.

      More fires had sprung up, and knots of men stood around them, stamping their feet, dressing, wolfing down hunks of barely-cooked meat.

      Gregory, clothes steaming, came up to join his friend. ‘I had that bow for nearly half a score of years. I’ll miss it.’

      ‘For that you saved the priest.’

      ‘I СКАЧАТЬ