The Complete Riftwar Saga Trilogy: Magician, Silverthorn, A Darkness at Sethanon. Raymond E. Feist

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СКАЧАТЬ ‘We should be free of bad weather in two, perhaps three days. Farther into the future I cannot judge.’ A distant shout echoed over the trees, from deep within the forest below. Instantly everyone was still. Borric looked to Gardan. ‘Sergeant, how far away do you judge them?’

      Gardan listened. ‘It is hard to say, my lord. One mile, two, maybe more. Sound carries oddly in the forest, more so when it is this cold.’ Borric nodded. ‘Gather the men. We leave now.’

      Pug’s fingertips bled through his torn gloves. At every opportunity during the day, the Duke had kept the men traveling over rock, to prevent Dark Brotherhood trackers from following. Every hour guards had been sent back to cut false trails over their own, pulling blankets taken from the dead horses behind, obscuring the tracks as best they could.

      They stood at the edge of a clearing, a circle of bare rock surrounded on all sides by scattered pines and aspens. The trees had grown progressively thinner as they moved up into the mountains, staying on the rougher, higher terrain rather than risk being followed. Since dawn they had moved northeast, following a ridge of rugged hills toward the Grey Towers, but to Pug’s dismay the mountains seemed no closer.

      The sun stood high overhead, but Pug felt little of its warmth, for a cold wind blew down from the heights of the Grey Towers. Pug heard Kulgan’s voice some distance behind. ‘As long as the wind is from the northeast, we’ll have no snow, as any moisture will have fallen on the peaks. Should the wind shift and come from the west, or northwest, from off the Endless Sea, we’ll have more snow.’

      Pug panted as he scrambled along the rocks, balancing on the slippery surface. ‘Kulgan, must we have lessons, too?’

      Several men laughed, and momentarily the grim tension of the last two days lessened. They reached a large flat, before another upward rise, and the Duke ordered a halt. ‘Build a fire and slaughter an animal. We’ll wait here for the last rear guard.’

      Gardan quickly sent men to gather wood in the trees, and one was given two of the horses to lead away. The high-strung mounts were footsore, tired, and unfed, and in spite of their training, Gardan wanted them removed from the smell of blood.

      The chosen horse screamed, then was suddenly silent, and when the fires were ready, the soldiers placed spits over the flames. Soon the aroma of roasting meat filled the air. In spite of his anticipated distaste, Pug found his mouth watering at the smell. In a while he was handed a stick, with a large piece of roasted liver on it, which he wolfed down. Nearby, Tomas was doing equal justice to a portion of sizzling haunch.

      When they were done eating, the still-hot meat left over was wrapped with strips from horse blankets and torn tabards, then divided among the men.

      Pug and Tomas sat by Kulgan as men broke camp, putting out fires, covering signs of passing, and readying for the resumption of the march.

      Gardan came to the Duke. ‘My lord, the rear guard is overdue.’

      Borric nodded. ‘I know. They should have returned a half hour ago.’ He peered down the hillside, toward the huge forest, mist shrouded in the distance. ‘We’ll wait five more minutes, then we will go.’

      They waited in silence, but the guards didn’t return. Finally Gardan gave the order. ‘All right, lads. Off we go.’

      The men formed up behind the Duke and Kulgan, and the boys fell in at the rear. Pug counted. There were only ten soldiers left.

      Two days later the howling winds came, icy knives ripping at exposed flesh. Cloaks were gathered around each figure tramping slowly northward, leaning into the wind. Rags had been torn and tied around boots in a feeble attempt to hold off frostbite. Pug tried vainly to keep his eyelashes free of ice, but the harsh wind made his eyes tear, and the drops quickly froze, blurring his vision.

      Pug heard Kulgan’s voice above the wind. ‘My lord, a storm comes. We must find shelter or perish.’ The Duke nodded and waved two men ahead to seek shelter. The two set off at a stumbling run, moving only slightly faster than the others, but valiantly putting their remaining meager strength into the task.

      Clouds began to roll in from the northwest, and the skies darkened. ‘How much time, Kulgan?’ shouted the Duke over the shrieking wind.

      The magician waved his hand above his head, as the wind blew his hair and beard back from his face, exposing his high forehead. ‘An hour at most.’ The Duke nodded again and exhorted his men to move along.

      A sad sound, a neighing cry, pierced the wind, and a soldier called out that the last horse was down. Borric stopped and with a curse ordered it slaughtered as quickly as possible. Soldiers butchered the animal, steaming hunks of meat being cut away, to chill in the snow where they were cast before they could be wrapped. When they were done, the meat was divided among the men.

      ‘If we can find shelter, we will build a fire and cook the meat,’ the Duke shouted.

      Silently Pug added that if they couldn’t find shelter, they’d have little use for the meat. They resumed their march.

      A short time later the two guards returned with the news of a cave less than a quarter mile distant. The Duke ordered them to show the way.

      Snow began to fall, whipped by the driving wind. The sky was now dark, limiting visibility to only a few hundred feet. Pug felt light-headed and had to struggle to pull his feet from the resisting snow. Both hands were numb, and he wondered if he was frostbitten.

      Tomas looked slightly better, being somewhat hardier by nature, but he also was too exhausted to speak. He just plodded along beside his friend.

      Suddenly Pug was lying face down in the snow feeling surprisingly warm and sleepy. Tomas knelt beside the fallen magician’s apprentice. He shook Pug, and the nearly unconscious boy groaned.

      ‘Get up,’ Tomas shouted. ‘It’s only a little way farther.’

      Pug struggled upright, aided by Tomas and one of the soldiers. When he was standing, Tomas indicated to the soldier he could take care of his friend. The soldier nodded, but stayed near. Tomas loosened one of the many strips of blanket tied around him for warmth, knotted one end to Pug’s belt, and half guided, half pulled the smaller boy along.

      The boys followed the guard who had helped them around an outcropping of rock and found themselves at the mouth of a cave. They staggered forward a few steps into the sheltering darkness, then fell to the stone floor. In contrast to the biting wind outside, the cave seemed warm, and they lapsed into an exhausted sleep.

      Pug awoke to the smell of cooking horse meat. He roused himself and saw it was dark outside, beyond the fire. Piles of branches and deadwood were heaped nearby, and men were carefully feeding the fire. Others stood by, roasting pieces of meat. Pug flexed his fingers and found them painfully sore, but as he peeled off his tattered gloves, he saw no signs of frostbite. He nudged Tomas awake, and the other boy raised himself up on his elbows, blinking at the firelight.

      Gardan stood on the other side of the fire, speaking with a guard. The Duke sat nearby, in quiet conversation with his son and Kulgan. Beyond Gardan and the guard, Pug could see only blackness. He couldn’t remember what time of day it had been when they found the cave, but he and Tomas must have slept for hours.

      Kulgan saw them stirring and came over. ‘How do you feel?’ he asked, a look of concern on his face. The boys indicated they felt all right, considering the circumstances. Pug and Tomas doffed their boots at Kulgan’s orders, and he was pleased to report they had suffered СКАЧАТЬ