The Riftwar Legacy: The Complete 4-Book Collection. Raymond E. Feist
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Название: The Riftwar Legacy: The Complete 4-Book Collection
Автор: Raymond E. Feist
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Героическая фантастика
isbn: 9780007531356
isbn:
‘Why Romney?’ asked Owyn.
‘Because from there he takes the River Rom south and where it turns back toward the southeast he lands and marches overland to Sethanon. There’s nothing but open plain and light woodlands by that route.’
Owyn said, ‘And by burning the keep at Cavell and occupying the run –’
‘– he prevents anyone from occupying a strong position behind his lines,’ finished James.
He stood up and hurried down the steps. ‘We must leave now.’
Gorath and Owyn hurried after. ‘Where are we going?’
‘I’m heading for Northwarden,’ answered James, ‘to warn Baron Gabot of the attack. You need to take these documents to Arutha.’ He handed three rolled-up parchments to Owyn.
‘Arutha?’ Owyn shook his head. ‘Unless we use your Tsurani orb, it’ll take us weeks to return to Krondor.’
‘He’s not in Krondor, so the orb is of no use,’ said James as they reached the waterfall exit. ‘He’s encamped within the northern edge of the Dimwood with a large portion of his army, waiting for word on where the attack is staging, so he can rush to support. He can be within sight of Tyr-Sog, Highcastle, or Northwarden within a week of getting word.’
‘So you want us to tell him to come to Northwarden.’
‘Yes,’ said James, as he scrambled down wet rocks to where the horses were tied.
‘What if he doesn’t believe us?’ asked Gorath. ‘He seemed dubious about my claims when last we met.’
‘Far less dubious than he appeared,’ said James. ‘Let me advise you never to play cards with the Prince. In any event, if he expresses doubts, tell him, “There’s a Party at Mother’s”. That way he’ll know the message is from me.’
Owyn said, ‘Odd, but we will.’
‘James,’ said Gorath, ‘if the Prince is in the Dimwood, so will be the advanced elements of Delekhan’s forces. If the final goal is Sethanon, many of my people will have filtered down through the small gullies and passes in the Teeth of the World and will be readying things for the advancing army next spring.’
‘Well do I know,’ said James. ‘I remember when we evacuated Highcastle and rode across the High Wold and down through the Dimwood.’
‘What if we’re captured or killed?’
Mounting his horse, James said, ‘I have one thing to say to that.’
‘What?’ asked Owyn.
‘Don’t be,’ said James, turning his horse and riding off.
Owyn mounted and said, ‘Let’s stop so I can see Ugyne safely on her way to my parents, and we’ll get some food.’
Gorath said, ‘That would be wise.’
Owyn said, ‘Then that’s about the only wise thing about this plan.’
A PEBBLE CLATTERED DOWN THE HILLSIDE.
Gorath had his sword in hand before it stopped rolling, and said, ‘Owyn!’
The young man from Timons stood peering into the night, blind from having gazed at the campfire. From out of the darkness a voice spoke in a language Owyn didn’t comprehend. Arrows slammed into the dirt at Owyn’s feet, to emphasize whatever command was given.
Gorath said, ‘Don’t resist. We’re surrounded.’
A group of men and moredhel advanced into the light. One of them walked up to Gorath and looked him in the eyes a moment; then with as powerful a blow as he could muster, he struck Gorath across the face. Owyn looked at the moredhel, sure he had seen him before, but not certain where.
Then the moredhel advanced upon Owyn, and spoke the King’s Tongue. ‘You must have conspired with that walking garbage to kill my brother.’ Suddenly pain exploded in Owyn’s face as he was struck.
In shock and dizzy from the blow, Owyn lay on the ground. He realized that this must be the brother of the magician Nago, whom they had slain in Yellow Mule. To the two of them, Narab said, ‘I would happily put your head on a pike, human, and hoist it while I drag this traitor behind me from here to Sar-Sargoth, but I am going to give that pleasure to Delekhan.’ Turning to the others, he said, ‘Drug them, bind them, and bring their horses!’
Owyn was roughly pulled upright and a bitter drink was forced past his lips. He tried to spit it out and was hit hard across the face for his trouble. His head was cruelly pulled back and his nose held while the concoction was poured down his throat. He was forced to swallow. A few moments after he had, he felt his legs and arms growing leaden, his mind confused, and his vision hard to focus. He found his hands tied tightly behind him and a blindfold tied around his head. Then he was hoisted into his saddle by rough hands. Once there, his feet were lashed to his stirrups, and the horse was led away. Other men and dark elves appeared, leading horses, and Narab ordered them to mount.
The nightmare ride began.
The horses were changed many times, and Owyn remembered resting for a period – minutes or hours he couldn’t recall – but he knew time was passing. The drug was obviously designed to dull his mind so that whatever magic he might have possessed was unavailable to him. Several times he became aware enough to realize the drug was wearing off, but then he was given more to drink. Once he fell awkwardly from the saddle and hung by the ties on his feet, forcing his captors to halt and right him. They added more ropes.
He was vaguely aware of being thirsty and hungry, but it was a distant discomfort. Mostly he existed in a grey fog, punctuated by the constant pounding from the horse upon which he rode. Then he was dragged from the horse and hauled through a cold, damp place and cast down onto rough stones. He lay there for a time, lapsing in and out of consciousness. Then, eventually, one moment ceased passing into the next, and he awoke in pain. He moved slowly, and discovered himself free of leg restraints, though his arms were still bound and he was still blindfolded.
Owyn sat up and moved his aching and stiff legs. The insides of both of them were bruised and he knew he had ridden a long way without being able to sit a comfortable seat. Even had he been conscious he sensed the ride would have been punishing; it had taken at least seven or eight days, from what he could recall, and he had switched horses a number of times. But with senses dulled and tied to his saddle, it was only by the gods’ mercy he was still alive.
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