the Gates? That was the most insane course of action he could think of. There was no way he could break through the enemy lines.
He put off the decision for the time being and remained where he was, having decided that it was best to take things slowly.
Toward nightfall he began scowling. The weather had turned cold and severe, and leaden clouds had enveloped the valley in a thick veil. And then the clouds burst, and the driving rain chased the enemy soldiers into the tower. The birds feasting on the corpses took to the air with indignant squawks. Stumbling and slipping in the greasy mud, a hundred corpses under the supervision of five Whites marched by, awkwardly keeping pace with the sergeant’s drums. Then the road was empty.
The northerner was beginning to think that under the cover of the inclement weather it might be worth the risk to try to sneak into the town by the Gates at the very least. There he could see what was happening and then decide what to do next.
At that moment two men exited the tower. Wrapping their cloaks around themselves, they picked up some shovels and headed in the direction of the hidden northerner. All he could do was try to refrain from bringing attention to himself. It shouldn’t really be all that difficult. It’s not particularly easy to catch sight of someone who’s lying up to his ears in mud.
The men halted about ten paces away from the Son of the Snow Leopard and began digging a pit.
“Damn that sergeant! He’s inside warming his ass up, and what about us?”
“We’re on the outs, like always!” agreed the second man. “I’d like to choke the life out of that bastard.”
“Oh yeah, you’ll choke him!” grumbled the first. “He’ll outlive us all, the rascal. He should be the one trudging about in the rain, digging a grave. I didn’t sign up for this!”
He huffed, angrily cast his shovel to the ground, grumbling curses, and walked over toward the place where Ga-Nor was hiding. Standing over him, the man began to untie his trouser strings. The Son of the Snow Leopard, realizing that he would soon be inundated not just by the rain, but by a much more unpleasant stream, rose up to his full, not insignificant height.
The Nabatorian thought that a demon had risen from the earth and he pissed his half-undone trousers with fear. The northerner swung his sword blindly and then leaped over the body as it fell into the mud and rushed toward his second adversary.
When it was all over he cast a quick glance at the tower. Grabbing the first body by the feet, he dragged it behind the cover of the rocks. Then he hid the second corpse. All this took about a minute. Sooner or later someone would come out into the rain to see how the gravediggers’ work was going. It would be a good idea to be as far away as possible at that moment.
He’d killed the second Nabatorian with a blow to the temple from his sword hilt. It would be thoughtless to soil the man’s clothes with blood, especially when they would fit so well. The redheaded warrior exchanged his clothes for the other’s quickly, and then he concealed his face beneath the hood of the cloak. He folded up his kilt and clan scarf and took them with him.
Four dozen horses were standing beneath an enclosed canopy attached to the side of the Alert Tower. Three of them were still saddled. He took one of the animals by the reins and led it out onto the road.
* * *
The foul weather had driven off the Nabatorian patrols to such an extent that no one bothered to stop a solitary rider. After an hour the northerner spied the small town spread out before the Gates and he grunted in surprise. He’d expected to stumble across ashes and ruin, as well as the enemy army. But the town seemed untouched, as if thousands of humans and nonhumans had never been there.
The tracker slowed his horse to a walk. Where had the enemy army disappeared to? It couldn’t have just vanished into thin air, unless, of course, that was
He put off the decision for the time being and remained where he was, having decided that it was best to take things slowly.
Toward nightfall he began scowling. The weather had turned cold and severe, and leaden clouds had enveloped the valley in a thick veil. And then the clouds burst, and the driving rain chased the enemy soldiers into the tower. The birds feasting on the corpses took to the air with indignant squawks. Stumbling and slipping in the greasy mud, a hundred corpses under the supervision of five Whites marched by, awkwardly keeping pace with the sergeant’s drums. Then the road was empty.
The northerner was beginning to think that under the cover of the inclement weather it might be worth the risk to try to sneak into the town by the Gates at the very least. There he could see what was happening and then decide what to do next.
At that moment two men exited the tower. Wrapping their cloaks around themselves, they picked up some shovels and headed in the direction of the hidden northerner. All he could do was try to refrain from bringing attention to himself. It shouldn’t really be all that difficult. It’s not particularly easy to catch sight of someone who’s lying up to his ears in mud.
The men halted about ten paces away from the Son of the Snow Leopard and began digging a pit.
“Damn that sergeant! He’s inside warming his ass up, and what about us?”
“We’re on the outs, like always!” agreed the second man. “I’d like to choke the life out of that bastard.”
“Oh yeah, you’ll choke him!” grumbled the first. “He’ll outlive us all, the rascal. He should be the one trudging about in the rain, digging a grave. I didn’t sign up for this!”
He huffed, angrily cast his shovel to the ground, grumbling curses, and walked over toward the place where Ga-Nor was hiding. Standing over him, the man began to untie his trouser strings. The Son of the Snow Leopard, realizing that he would soon be inundated not just by the rain, but by a much more unpleasant stream, rose up to his full, not insignificant height.
The Nabatorian thought that a demon had risen from the earth and he pissed his half-undone trousers with fear. The northerner swung his sword blindly and then leaped over the body as it fell into the mud and rushed toward his second adversary.
When it was all over he cast a quick glance at the tower. Grabbing the first body by the feet, he dragged it behind the cover of the rocks. Then he hid the second corpse. All this took about a minute. Sooner or later someone would come out into the rain to see how the gravediggers’ work was going. It would be a good idea to be as far away as possible at that moment.
He’d killed the second Nabatorian with a blow to the temple from his sword hilt. It would be thoughtless to soil the man’s clothes with blood, especially when they would fit so well. The redheaded warrior exchanged his clothes for the other’s quickly, and then he concealed his face beneath the hood of the cloak. He folded up his kilt and clan scarf and took them with him.
Four dozen horses were standing beneath an enclosed canopy attached to the side of the Alert Tower. Three of them were still saddled. He took one of the animals by the reins and led it out onto the road.
* * *
The foul weather had driven off the Nabatorian patrols to such an extent that no one bothered to stop a solitary rider. After an hour the northerner spied the small town spread out before the Gates and he grunted in surprise. He’d expected to stumble across ashes and ruin, as well as the enemy army. But the town seemed untouched, as if thousands of humans and nonhumans had never been there.
The tracker slowed his horse to a walk. Where had the enemy army disappeared to? It couldn’t have just vanished into thin air, unless, of course, that was
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