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

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       • Chapter Eight •

       Decisions

      TWILIGHT WAS DEEPENING.

      Dennis Hartraft turned away from the knot of soldiers, throwing up his hands in exasperation. ‘You are all crazy,’ he snapped angrily, looking back over his shoulder. ‘Stopping now is madness.’ He pointed to the pass in the next range of mountains, still ten miles away. ‘Once over the Teeth of the World, we’re in the clear. Then we rest.’

      ‘And not one man in ten will make it that far,’ Brother Corwin interjected. ‘I suspect it’s because neither you nor the Tsurani will admit in front of the other that you have to stop. This chase has been going on for three days. There’s barely a man left who can fight, let alone march another mile.’

      ‘Brother, I didn’t know you were part of this council of war,’ Dennis retorted. ‘It’s for any man who fights and wishes a fair say.’

      ‘But I’ll be heard nevertheless,’ the monk snapped back without hesitation. ‘Give these men a rest.’

      Dennis, hands on his hips, stepped back into the circle of men. He caught the eye of Asayaga who was softly whispering, translating the conversation to the men of his command.

      ‘The Tsurani here don’t have councils of war,’ Dennis replied. ‘Their commander says go, and they go. I’m willing to bet they are ready to go over that mountain tonight and be clear of pursuit once and for all. You men called for a council and I must accept that, but I am telling you that to stop for rest now is madness.’

      Asayaga, even as he translated, looked straight at Dennis without comment.

      ‘Will you have it said that those –’ the word ‘bastard’ almost slipped out but he held it ‘– these enemies of the Kingdom can do something we cannot do?’

      Dennis’s voice started off at a low pitch. ‘I know it is our custom to ask for a council of war –’ his voice started to rise ‘– the lowest in my command can ask for one if there is a serious question of my orders, but that is not the case in a time of crisis, or in the middle of a fight!’ He ended on a shout.

      ‘I see neither a fight, nor a crisis,’ Corwin replied calmly. ‘We’ve outrun pursuit. It’s getting on to dusk. We have a clear view back across twenty miles and see nothing behind us.’ He pointed back across the plains and low rolling hills which the men had wearily traversed. From their elevated position in the foothills, someone with a sharp enough eye could see clear back to the river they had forded that morning. Nothing moved upon it except for a few stags, the does that followed them, and a distant band of wolves.

      ‘They can still flank along these mountains,’ Dennis replied, pointing eastward to the forest-clad slopes which they had been approaching all afternoon.

      ‘Someone would have to come behind us to where we crossed the river,’ the monk argued, ‘to make sure they picked up our trail. We haven’t seen anyone behind us all afternoon.’

      ‘So, you are a master of woodcraft and field tactics as well?’ Dennis asked

      ‘No, just a man who’s spent a lot of time outdoors, and who knows how to apply logic; and logic demands that we rest. The ground ahead looks good: plenty of fir trees for fuel and making rough shelters, and game signs all around. Just rest tonight, then tomorrow we can push on. If you try a night march now, you won’t have twenty men left come dawn.’

      Dennis turned away from the priest, his gaze slowly sweeping the ranks of the men gathered round him. Then, for a brief instant an image flashed through his mind. He glanced back at the priest, and the image faded.

      Corwin saw Dennis examining him and said, ‘What?’

      Dennis was silent for a moment, then, ‘Nothing,’ he said.

      He looked at his men and saw precious little support amongst them. The priest was right, they were played out: fording the river had sapped the last of their strength and the forced march of the afternoon had been a final lunge of desperation. All were on the verge of collapse.

      He shifted his gaze to Asayaga. It was hard to read the strange blankness the Tsurani could assume when they desired. He wondered if Asayaga was in agreement, or was filled with contempt for the weakness of his enemy.

      ‘Rest would be good,’ Asayaga ventured. ‘Some have marched sixty of your miles or more without sleep for two days. Half my men will die before morning from the freezing sickness.’

      Dennis was startled by the admission. He looked over at Tinuva and Gregory.

      ‘My friend,’ Gregory said softly, ‘there are times when you forget that few can equal your endurance; it is your only fault as a leader.’

      ‘But you would agree they might be close?’

      Tinuva stood up and stepped away from the circle to the edge of the knoll where they had stopped for the meeting. All were silent as he carefully scanned the distant horizon, then raised his head, nostrils flaring as if smelling the cold wind.

      ‘I’ve not walked this land in years,’ he sighed, turning to look back at the expectant group. ‘I’ve lost touch with its rhythms, its heart beat, the feel of its wind, the scent of the soil and the things that grow here.’ He paused. ‘I can tell you though that we are the first to disturb this place since the snows began to fall. But that does not mean we will be alone for long. I know who is pursuing us now, and that makes me cautious of lingering here.’

      Several of Dennis’s men asked him to explain, to say who was in pursuit but he would not answer. He slowly walked among the men, his searching glance assessing each of them in turn. He paused for a moment before Corwin, gazing deep into his eyes, then turned away.

      ‘The brown robe is right, however. We try to march for another night and many will fall.’ He turned and looked back at the knot of Tsurani gathered behind Asayaga. ‘Especially with you,’ Tinuva continued, speaking now in Tsurani. ‘The ice, the cold is alien to you. You, Asayaga, know that, even if your pride would have you march with us until the last of you collapsed into silent death.’

      Asayaga, startled by the elf’s skill in speaking Tsurani, simply nodded.

      ‘The temperature will drop tonight now that the worst of the storm has passed. Come dawn it will be far colder.’ As he spoke Tinuva turned back to Dennis, again speaking the King’s tongue. ‘Ice СКАЧАТЬ