Read Online Arms-Commander by L. E. Modesitt Jr. - Free Book Online
Authors: L. E. Modesitt Jr.
Tags: Speculative Fiction
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won’t hurt you. We’re all women. We’re from Westwind. You’ll be safe now.” She eased the short sword back into its scabbard.
The figure huddled under a scrub evergreen did not move.
After a time, the commander eased her mount forward and into the tall evergreens, stopping well short of the girl. Saryn wanted to tell the girl that she’d be safe, that everything would be all right. She didn’t. Instead, she waited, letting her senses take in the trees and the life deeper in the shadows. After a time, she spoke again. “Those who attacked you are gone.”
A small face continued to peer through the evergreen bush, as if afraid to move.
“You’ll be all right, now.” Saryn continued to wait, not wanting to press the girl, but afraid that if she dismounted or made any other moves toward the child, the girl would run deeper into the trees, where it would be even harder to find her. Besides, someone chasing her was the last thing the girl needed.
As she sat in the saddle, waiting, Saryn glanced back, but Murkassa had matters well in hand, and half the guards were already gathering stones for a cairn. That was better. The girl didn’t need to see what had happened to the others.
“You… you don’t have the silver hair. Are you an angel?” The girl spoke slowly into the silence. “Ma said we’d be safe if we got to the angels.” She stood up, almost as if she were offering herself as some form of sacrifice.
Saryn swallowed. She wanted to vault from the saddle and take the child in her arms. Instead, she blinked back the burning in her eyes and smiled as warmly as she could. “We are the angels of Westwind, and you will be safe with us. Can you walk over here so that you can ride with me?”
“My feet hurt… the rocks…” As she spoke, the girl slowly stepped around the bush and moved toward Saryn. Her hair was red, like that of all those slain, and she already had traces of freckles on her face, especially on her cheeks. She wore calf-length gray trousers and a faded gray tunic over some sort of undertunic. Streaks of blood ran across her feet and ankles. When she reached the shoulder of Saryn’s mount, she lifted her arms. Her brown eyes held both trust and fear—or those were the feelings Saryn sensed.
Saryn leaned down and lifted her, amazed at how thin and light the child was. She must be close to starving. Then she set the girl before her and turned the mount. “We’re going to join the others.” After a moment, she asked, “What’s your name?”
“Adiara, Angel.”
“Where are you from?”
“Neltos.”
Saryn had never heard of it, but then, there were all too many places in the world whose names remained unfamiliar. She wondered if she’d ever learn them all. “Where is Neltos?”
“The market town is Meltosia. We didn’t go through Kyphrien. We went around it at night. Ma didn’t say why. She made me promise to be quiet.”
“Where were you going?”
“Ma and Da said we were going to Suthya.”
“Did they tell you why?” Saryn reined up on the road. She was careful to keep her mount pointed away from the overturned cart although the guards had already moved the bodies to the edge of the clearing, where they were piling stones over them.
Murkassa eased her mount closer to the commander’s.
“Lord Karthanos… he was doing bad things to folks like us. That was what Da said.”
“Folks like you?”
“You know, Angel. Redheads. We turn red in the sun, too.” Adiara stopped speaking, and she looked at the squad leader. “You don’t have silver hair. Are you an angel?”
“I am from Westwind… now,” Murkassa replied. “The commander is truly one of the angels. She came from the stars. So did the Marshal, and she has black hair.”
“Not all of the guards of Westwind have silver hair,” Saryn said gently. “Some do, and some of their daughters do, also.”
“You have children?”
“We are women,” Saryn said, somewhat dryly. “Some of us have
The figure huddled under a scrub evergreen did not move.
After a time, the commander eased her mount forward and into the tall evergreens, stopping well short of the girl. Saryn wanted to tell the girl that she’d be safe, that everything would be all right. She didn’t. Instead, she waited, letting her senses take in the trees and the life deeper in the shadows. After a time, she spoke again. “Those who attacked you are gone.”
A small face continued to peer through the evergreen bush, as if afraid to move.
“You’ll be all right, now.” Saryn continued to wait, not wanting to press the girl, but afraid that if she dismounted or made any other moves toward the child, the girl would run deeper into the trees, where it would be even harder to find her. Besides, someone chasing her was the last thing the girl needed.
As she sat in the saddle, waiting, Saryn glanced back, but Murkassa had matters well in hand, and half the guards were already gathering stones for a cairn. That was better. The girl didn’t need to see what had happened to the others.
“You… you don’t have the silver hair. Are you an angel?” The girl spoke slowly into the silence. “Ma said we’d be safe if we got to the angels.” She stood up, almost as if she were offering herself as some form of sacrifice.
Saryn swallowed. She wanted to vault from the saddle and take the child in her arms. Instead, she blinked back the burning in her eyes and smiled as warmly as she could. “We are the angels of Westwind, and you will be safe with us. Can you walk over here so that you can ride with me?”
“My feet hurt… the rocks…” As she spoke, the girl slowly stepped around the bush and moved toward Saryn. Her hair was red, like that of all those slain, and she already had traces of freckles on her face, especially on her cheeks. She wore calf-length gray trousers and a faded gray tunic over some sort of undertunic. Streaks of blood ran across her feet and ankles. When she reached the shoulder of Saryn’s mount, she lifted her arms. Her brown eyes held both trust and fear—or those were the feelings Saryn sensed.
Saryn leaned down and lifted her, amazed at how thin and light the child was. She must be close to starving. Then she set the girl before her and turned the mount. “We’re going to join the others.” After a moment, she asked, “What’s your name?”
“Adiara, Angel.”
“Where are you from?”
“Neltos.”
Saryn had never heard of it, but then, there were all too many places in the world whose names remained unfamiliar. She wondered if she’d ever learn them all. “Where is Neltos?”
“The market town is Meltosia. We didn’t go through Kyphrien. We went around it at night. Ma didn’t say why. She made me promise to be quiet.”
“Where were you going?”
“Ma and Da said we were going to Suthya.”
“Did they tell you why?” Saryn reined up on the road. She was careful to keep her mount pointed away from the overturned cart although the guards had already moved the bodies to the edge of the clearing, where they were piling stones over them.
Murkassa eased her mount closer to the commander’s.
“Lord Karthanos… he was doing bad things to folks like us. That was what Da said.”
“Folks like you?”
“You know, Angel. Redheads. We turn red in the sun, too.” Adiara stopped speaking, and she looked at the squad leader. “You don’t have silver hair. Are you an angel?”
“I am from Westwind… now,” Murkassa replied. “The commander is truly one of the angels. She came from the stars. So did the Marshal, and she has black hair.”
“Not all of the guards of Westwind have silver hair,” Saryn said gently. “Some do, and some of their daughters do, also.”
“You have children?”
“We are women,” Saryn said, somewhat dryly. “Some of us have
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