Read Online Fate Defied: The Silent Tempest, Book 3 by E. J. Godwin - Free Book Online
Authors: E. J. Godwin
Tags: General Fiction
Ads: Link
vision than before, nothing that indicated where Heradnora was or what she was doing.
The rugged mountains of the Iéndrai spanned the northern horizon, their peaks veiled in winter clouds. Directly ahead, a narrow cleft twisted its way between snow-laden walls: Crooked Pass. As they stopped for a short rest, Telai cast a worried glance in its direction. The thick white caps dangling atop the cliffs had buried countless people in past years, their fates unknown until the spring thaw revealed their mangled corpses.
The dogs, a thickly furred breed from Enilií with large paws and heavily muscled shoulders, lay panting in the snow. Telai pulled her hood back to get a better view, and strands of hair escaping her braid tangled in the wind whistling down the gorge.
“Dangerous?”
Tenlar nodded. “No one travels this way during winter if they have a choice. Be sure the short spade we gave you is well secured and easy to find. We should be careful to keep the dogs quiet, too. Give them each a full ration before we enter the pass.”
“What! Even a barking dog can set one off?”
“It’s rare, I’ll admit. This bright sunshine is the larger threat. But why take chances?”
They fed the dogs and ate a quick meal, then started for the pass. They crossed the timberline within a few hours, the wind howling between the steep walls that rose ever higher and closer on either side. They spent half the time turning their faces away from the dangerous gale. Tenlar’s fear about the dogs proved needless; they were too busy toiling through the deep snow and against the stiff wind to waste energy barking. Yet the massive cliffs overhead looked almost entirely made of thick, featureless snow, brilliant in the sunshine, ready to plunge into the depths at the slightest disturbance. The walls drew together less than a half mile apart in some places, offering little or no escape should the worst happen.
By afternoon their noses and cheeks were beginning to suffer from frostbite. A constant flow of tears blurred their vision, and the frigid air sapped heat so fast Telai felt it in her bones. The dogs, their gray flanks coated with the frozen mist of their own breath, plodded slower and slower over drifts the drivers could barely see in the blowing snow.
They sought shelter for a while, in the lee of a massive boulder to their right near the top of a long slope. They crouched against the stone and put their hands to their faces, trying to breathe in life and warmth. Their stiffened jaws made for slow and clumsy speech; any food they tried to eat was like iron, so difficult to chew it was hardly worth it.
The thought of going out into that wind again was especially discouraging. The moment they forced themselves up, however, Tenlar dropped to the snow, pulling Telai with him.
He pointed to the north. She peeked around the boulder and saw six or seven dark forms silhouetted against the relentless white. Plumes of snow flew forward at their approach. At first she wondered if a group of travelers had gotten stranded somehow, but one look at Tenlar told her otherwise. If they were Hodyn, how had they escaped the vigilance of Enilií?
One of the dogs saw the approaching men and began howling. Tenlar jumped to silence the animal, but it was too late. One by one the other dogs took up the chorus, and the Hodyn stopped short. Tenlar swore and released the dog, staring at Telai.
The enemy caught sight of them and fanned out for the attack, drawing their swords. Telai and Tenlar reached in their coats for the weapons they had hoped to never use on this journey. But there was no choice. One Hodyn escaping to report would doom Ada’s last hope.
The Master Raén leaped from cover with a shout. The dogs yelped and growled, straining against their harnesses to join the attack as the Hodyn bore down upon them. There was no need. In scant seconds the grimly effective technology of another world split three men in half with one sweeping pass. Two
The rugged mountains of the Iéndrai spanned the northern horizon, their peaks veiled in winter clouds. Directly ahead, a narrow cleft twisted its way between snow-laden walls: Crooked Pass. As they stopped for a short rest, Telai cast a worried glance in its direction. The thick white caps dangling atop the cliffs had buried countless people in past years, their fates unknown until the spring thaw revealed their mangled corpses.
The dogs, a thickly furred breed from Enilií with large paws and heavily muscled shoulders, lay panting in the snow. Telai pulled her hood back to get a better view, and strands of hair escaping her braid tangled in the wind whistling down the gorge.
“Dangerous?”
Tenlar nodded. “No one travels this way during winter if they have a choice. Be sure the short spade we gave you is well secured and easy to find. We should be careful to keep the dogs quiet, too. Give them each a full ration before we enter the pass.”
“What! Even a barking dog can set one off?”
“It’s rare, I’ll admit. This bright sunshine is the larger threat. But why take chances?”
They fed the dogs and ate a quick meal, then started for the pass. They crossed the timberline within a few hours, the wind howling between the steep walls that rose ever higher and closer on either side. They spent half the time turning their faces away from the dangerous gale. Tenlar’s fear about the dogs proved needless; they were too busy toiling through the deep snow and against the stiff wind to waste energy barking. Yet the massive cliffs overhead looked almost entirely made of thick, featureless snow, brilliant in the sunshine, ready to plunge into the depths at the slightest disturbance. The walls drew together less than a half mile apart in some places, offering little or no escape should the worst happen.
By afternoon their noses and cheeks were beginning to suffer from frostbite. A constant flow of tears blurred their vision, and the frigid air sapped heat so fast Telai felt it in her bones. The dogs, their gray flanks coated with the frozen mist of their own breath, plodded slower and slower over drifts the drivers could barely see in the blowing snow.
They sought shelter for a while, in the lee of a massive boulder to their right near the top of a long slope. They crouched against the stone and put their hands to their faces, trying to breathe in life and warmth. Their stiffened jaws made for slow and clumsy speech; any food they tried to eat was like iron, so difficult to chew it was hardly worth it.
The thought of going out into that wind again was especially discouraging. The moment they forced themselves up, however, Tenlar dropped to the snow, pulling Telai with him.
He pointed to the north. She peeked around the boulder and saw six or seven dark forms silhouetted against the relentless white. Plumes of snow flew forward at their approach. At first she wondered if a group of travelers had gotten stranded somehow, but one look at Tenlar told her otherwise. If they were Hodyn, how had they escaped the vigilance of Enilií?
One of the dogs saw the approaching men and began howling. Tenlar jumped to silence the animal, but it was too late. One by one the other dogs took up the chorus, and the Hodyn stopped short. Tenlar swore and released the dog, staring at Telai.
The enemy caught sight of them and fanned out for the attack, drawing their swords. Telai and Tenlar reached in their coats for the weapons they had hoped to never use on this journey. But there was no choice. One Hodyn escaping to report would doom Ada’s last hope.
The Master Raén leaped from cover with a shout. The dogs yelped and growled, straining against their harnesses to join the attack as the Hodyn bore down upon them. There was no need. In scant seconds the grimly effective technology of another world split three men in half with one sweeping pass. Two
Similar Books
