[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
studied him for only a moment before turning around.
"Open the way!" he called out, and the gates swung wide as the scarred
soldier waved Welstiel onward. "Follow me, sir. You'll wait in the inner
courtyard until my lord has been informed."
They crossed the bridge behind the soldier. When they passed through the
keep's main gates and tunnel into the courtyard, Welstiel dismounted. Chane
followed his lead and stood behind him. They left their horses with the
courtyard soldiers and trailed their guide to the keep's wide doors on the far
side. The soldier had already opened one of the doors when he realized his
visitors were still following.
The scarred soldier raised a hand for them to wait as instructed, but
Welstiel did not wish for Darmouth to know of his presence.
"What is your name?" Welstiel asked.
The soldier appeared taken aback."Devid, sir. I'll announce your arrival, if
you'll wait here."
Welstiel guessed most of Darmouth's men would be out looking for Magiere. He
stepped back from the door compliantly and glanced about. Aside from one man
leading their horses off, there were three others in the courtyard. Welstiel
was hesitant to use the mental tricks of an undead in the open, but so long as
the target was calm, any onlookers would be none the wiser. Chane shifted
closer toward the doors, watching him curiously.
Welstiel motioned for Devid to join him with a curt wave of his hand. Devid
scowled, but stepped forward. Looking into the man's eyes, Welstiel spoke in a
low thrum that carried his suggestions into the man's thoughts.
"Perhaps we could wait inside, out of the cold?'
Devid blinked twice. "Yes& it is cold out& but you're not to leave the
entryway."
Welstiel leaned closer, glancing toward the tunnel to the bridge. "Your lord
called you to the Bronze Bell Inn, did he not? He needs your service even
now."
He focused an image in his mind of Darmouth ordering Devid to the inn. He did
not even look at Devid, but waited.
A moment passed. Devid took two steps into the courtyard toward the tunnel.
He looked back once at Welstiel. The man's blank expression clouded with
confusion,then settled into a stoic urgency. He hurried off across the
courtyard.
Welstiel watched him leave, holding the image of Darmouth in his mind until
Devid was far into the tunnel and approaching the keep's outer gate. He waited
for Chane's usual comment. Every time Welstiel used any ability as a Noble
Dead, it elicited some sardonic remark from his companion. He had become
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accustomed to it, but this time Chane remained silent.
Welstiel looked back. The door was ajar, and Chane was gone.
He hurried inside to find the wide entryway empty. Welstiel looked up the
stairs ahead.
Chane had run off to save his little sage once again.
Welstiel's anger passed quickly. He might be better off alone in watching
over Magiere, especially with Chane's obsession constantly distracting him. It
would certainly be easier to move about the keep. Welstiel could see that a
time would come when a choice might be necessary: either to be rid of Chane,
or to remove the object of his distraction once and for all.
The sounds of male chatter carried from the meal hall. He hurried along the
opposite wall away from the voices, and ducked through the archway into the
counsel hall. Before he looked back to be certain no one saw him, he sensed
something warm and alive within the hall.
Two wolfhounds with wiry gray fur lay at the hall's back beneath the
tapestries. Both stood up at the sight of him.
Welstiel felt the long-dormant predator within each of them, a trace that
decades of domestication had not fully erased. He could guide that instinct
with purpose. He had done so once to bring a wolf within Chane's reach for the
making of a familiar. Dogs were easier to seduce, already pliant to human
masters.
He projected a sense of calm toward them. The tallest one walked over and
licked his hand. Its back nearly reached Welstiel's hipbone.
Welstiel looked around the large room. Nothing had changed from his first
visit. He examined the table, chairs, and tapestries, annoyed that he had been
forced to step into a place with no other exit.
The voices across the entryway quieted for a moment. He listened carefully,
hoping for a chance to leave and locate Magiere. A deep male voice said
something unintelligible. Two& no, three people stepped into the entryway,
footfalls growing louder as they approached the counsel hall.
Welstiel glanced about the room once more. He could handle Darmouth but did
not want to be exposed just yet. And Darmouth was not alone.
Hurrying along the side wall, Welstiel ducked low behind the table and chairs
as he crossed to the tapestry of a lone horseman, hoping there was room to
hide behind it. When he lifted the edge, he found an opening built into the
stone wall. Stairs led downward, and he stepped inside, trying to still the
tapestry's swing as footsteps entered the council hall.
Welstiel took two steps down the stairs and then remained silent. He did not
move. Something brushed his leg, and he looked down. Both wolfhounds had
followed him. The tallest gazed up with liquid hazel eyes.
He could not risk sending them back and attracting attention and placed his
hand on one dog's head to quiet it.
The tunnel beneath the lake was narrow. Leesil took the lead with a lantern.
Chap came next. Magiere followed with Eml behind her, and Byrd brought up the
rear. The passage wasn't a straight line as expected, and Leesil wondered
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about the long, gradual curve. The stone walls were cold and watertight, but
even so, the lantern's light glistened off their damp surfaces.
Leesil had made certain that Magiere was recovered enough to continue. Her
hair was nearly dry, and she no longer shivered, but she was obviously
fatigued, either from cold or her dhampir state, or both. He knew she was
troubled about Wynn, about this search for his parents and about him. He
glanced back.
"Are you all right?" [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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studied him for only a moment before turning around.
"Open the way!" he called out, and the gates swung wide as the scarred
soldier waved Welstiel onward. "Follow me, sir. You'll wait in the inner
courtyard until my lord has been informed."
They crossed the bridge behind the soldier. When they passed through the
keep's main gates and tunnel into the courtyard, Welstiel dismounted. Chane
followed his lead and stood behind him. They left their horses with the
courtyard soldiers and trailed their guide to the keep's wide doors on the far
side. The soldier had already opened one of the doors when he realized his
visitors were still following.
The scarred soldier raised a hand for them to wait as instructed, but
Welstiel did not wish for Darmouth to know of his presence.
"What is your name?" Welstiel asked.
The soldier appeared taken aback."Devid, sir. I'll announce your arrival, if
you'll wait here."
Welstiel guessed most of Darmouth's men would be out looking for Magiere. He
stepped back from the door compliantly and glanced about. Aside from one man
leading their horses off, there were three others in the courtyard. Welstiel
was hesitant to use the mental tricks of an undead in the open, but so long as
the target was calm, any onlookers would be none the wiser. Chane shifted
closer toward the doors, watching him curiously.
Welstiel motioned for Devid to join him with a curt wave of his hand. Devid
scowled, but stepped forward. Looking into the man's eyes, Welstiel spoke in a
low thrum that carried his suggestions into the man's thoughts.
"Perhaps we could wait inside, out of the cold?'
Devid blinked twice. "Yes& it is cold out& but you're not to leave the
entryway."
Welstiel leaned closer, glancing toward the tunnel to the bridge. "Your lord
called you to the Bronze Bell Inn, did he not? He needs your service even
now."
He focused an image in his mind of Darmouth ordering Devid to the inn. He did
not even look at Devid, but waited.
A moment passed. Devid took two steps into the courtyard toward the tunnel.
He looked back once at Welstiel. The man's blank expression clouded with
confusion,then settled into a stoic urgency. He hurried off across the
courtyard.
Welstiel watched him leave, holding the image of Darmouth in his mind until
Devid was far into the tunnel and approaching the keep's outer gate. He waited
for Chane's usual comment. Every time Welstiel used any ability as a Noble
Dead, it elicited some sardonic remark from his companion. He had become
Page 200
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accustomed to it, but this time Chane remained silent.
Welstiel looked back. The door was ajar, and Chane was gone.
He hurried inside to find the wide entryway empty. Welstiel looked up the
stairs ahead.
Chane had run off to save his little sage once again.
Welstiel's anger passed quickly. He might be better off alone in watching
over Magiere, especially with Chane's obsession constantly distracting him. It
would certainly be easier to move about the keep. Welstiel could see that a
time would come when a choice might be necessary: either to be rid of Chane,
or to remove the object of his distraction once and for all.
The sounds of male chatter carried from the meal hall. He hurried along the
opposite wall away from the voices, and ducked through the archway into the
counsel hall. Before he looked back to be certain no one saw him, he sensed
something warm and alive within the hall.
Two wolfhounds with wiry gray fur lay at the hall's back beneath the
tapestries. Both stood up at the sight of him.
Welstiel felt the long-dormant predator within each of them, a trace that
decades of domestication had not fully erased. He could guide that instinct
with purpose. He had done so once to bring a wolf within Chane's reach for the
making of a familiar. Dogs were easier to seduce, already pliant to human
masters.
He projected a sense of calm toward them. The tallest one walked over and
licked his hand. Its back nearly reached Welstiel's hipbone.
Welstiel looked around the large room. Nothing had changed from his first
visit. He examined the table, chairs, and tapestries, annoyed that he had been
forced to step into a place with no other exit.
The voices across the entryway quieted for a moment. He listened carefully,
hoping for a chance to leave and locate Magiere. A deep male voice said
something unintelligible. Two& no, three people stepped into the entryway,
footfalls growing louder as they approached the counsel hall.
Welstiel glanced about the room once more. He could handle Darmouth but did
not want to be exposed just yet. And Darmouth was not alone.
Hurrying along the side wall, Welstiel ducked low behind the table and chairs
as he crossed to the tapestry of a lone horseman, hoping there was room to
hide behind it. When he lifted the edge, he found an opening built into the
stone wall. Stairs led downward, and he stepped inside, trying to still the
tapestry's swing as footsteps entered the council hall.
Welstiel took two steps down the stairs and then remained silent. He did not
move. Something brushed his leg, and he looked down. Both wolfhounds had
followed him. The tallest gazed up with liquid hazel eyes.
He could not risk sending them back and attracting attention and placed his
hand on one dog's head to quiet it.
The tunnel beneath the lake was narrow. Leesil took the lead with a lantern.
Chap came next. Magiere followed with Eml behind her, and Byrd brought up the
rear. The passage wasn't a straight line as expected, and Leesil wondered
Page 201
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
about the long, gradual curve. The stone walls were cold and watertight, but
even so, the lantern's light glistened off their damp surfaces.
Leesil had made certain that Magiere was recovered enough to continue. Her
hair was nearly dry, and she no longer shivered, but she was obviously
fatigued, either from cold or her dhampir state, or both. He knew she was
troubled about Wynn, about this search for his parents and about him. He
glanced back.
"Are you all right?" [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]