Read Online Sorceress of Darshiva by David Eddings - Free Book Online
Authors: David Eddings
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and I get to move along without interference and without having someone in authority find out that I've passed."
"It is getting warm out here," the soldier agreed.
"I thought you might have noticed that."
The other soldiers were grinning openly.
"You won't forget to drop the purse?"
"Trust me," Silk said.
The soldiers trooped across the field toward a grove of trees. Silk negligently tossed the purse into the ditch beside the road and motioned for the others to come ahead. "We might want to move right along," he suggested.
"Another purse full of pebbles?" Durnik grinned.
"Oh, no, Durnik. The purse has real money in it— Mallorean brass halfpennies. You can't buy very much with them, but they're real money, right enough."
"What if he'd asked to see what was inside?"
Silk grinned and held up his cupped hand. Tightly wedged between the folds of skin in his palm were several silver coins. "I like to be ready for eventualities," he said. Then he looked back over his shoulder. "I think we should leave now. The soldiers are coming back to the road."
The next encounter was a bit more serious. Three Temple Guardsmen blocked the road. Their shields were in front of them and their lances were at the ready. Their faces were devoid of thought. "My turn," Garion said, settling his helmet more firmly in place and shifting his shield. He lowered his lance and thumped Chretienne with his heels. As he charged, he could hear another horse pounding along behind him, but he did not have time to look back. It was all so stupid, but he felt that surge in his blood again. "Idiocy," he muttered. Then he easily unhorsed the Guardsman in the center. Durnik, he noted, had cut his lance perhaps two feet longer than was standard. With a quick flick of his shield, he deflected the lances of the other two Guardsmen and thundered on between them. Chretienne's hooves slammed down into the still-tumbling body of the fallen Guardsman. Garion reined in sharply and whirled the big gray to face the two he had left behind. But there was no need. The man riding behind him was Toth, and the two Guardsmen had already tumbled limply from their saddles.
"I could find work for you in Arendia, Toth," he said to the huge man. "Somewhere there has to be someone to convince them that they're not invincible."
Toth grinned at him in a soundless laugh.
Central Voresebo was in total chaos. Pillars of smoke rose from burning villages and farms. Crops had been put to the torch, and bands of armed men savagely attacked each other. One such skirmish was taking place in a burning field, and both sides were caught up in such a frenzy that they paid no attention to the wall of flame sweeping down on them.
Mutilated bodies seemed to be everywhere, and there was no way Garion could shield Ce'Nedra from the horrors littering the ditches and even the road itself. They galloped on.
As dusk descended over the stricken countryside, Durnik and Toth turned aside from the road to seek shelter for the night. They returned to report that they had discovered a low thicket lying in a gully a mile or so back from the road. "We won't be able to build any fires," Durnik said soberly, "but if we stay fairly quiet, I don't think anybody's going to find us."
The night was not pleasant. They took a cold supper in the thicket and tried for what scant shelter they could make out of what was available, since they could not erect their tents in the dense brush. Autumn was in the air, and it was cold, once the sky turned dark. As the first light of dawn touched the eastern horizon, they rose, ate a hasty breakfast, and rode on.
The cold, miserable night and the senseless slaughter all around them made Garion angry, and he grew angrier with each passing mile. About midmorning he saw a black-robed Grolim standing beside an altar several hundred yards out in a field to the right of the road. A band of roughly dressed soldiers were dragging three terrified villagers toward the altar by ropes tied
"It is getting warm out here," the soldier agreed.
"I thought you might have noticed that."
The other soldiers were grinning openly.
"You won't forget to drop the purse?"
"Trust me," Silk said.
The soldiers trooped across the field toward a grove of trees. Silk negligently tossed the purse into the ditch beside the road and motioned for the others to come ahead. "We might want to move right along," he suggested.
"Another purse full of pebbles?" Durnik grinned.
"Oh, no, Durnik. The purse has real money in it— Mallorean brass halfpennies. You can't buy very much with them, but they're real money, right enough."
"What if he'd asked to see what was inside?"
Silk grinned and held up his cupped hand. Tightly wedged between the folds of skin in his palm were several silver coins. "I like to be ready for eventualities," he said. Then he looked back over his shoulder. "I think we should leave now. The soldiers are coming back to the road."
The next encounter was a bit more serious. Three Temple Guardsmen blocked the road. Their shields were in front of them and their lances were at the ready. Their faces were devoid of thought. "My turn," Garion said, settling his helmet more firmly in place and shifting his shield. He lowered his lance and thumped Chretienne with his heels. As he charged, he could hear another horse pounding along behind him, but he did not have time to look back. It was all so stupid, but he felt that surge in his blood again. "Idiocy," he muttered. Then he easily unhorsed the Guardsman in the center. Durnik, he noted, had cut his lance perhaps two feet longer than was standard. With a quick flick of his shield, he deflected the lances of the other two Guardsmen and thundered on between them. Chretienne's hooves slammed down into the still-tumbling body of the fallen Guardsman. Garion reined in sharply and whirled the big gray to face the two he had left behind. But there was no need. The man riding behind him was Toth, and the two Guardsmen had already tumbled limply from their saddles.
"I could find work for you in Arendia, Toth," he said to the huge man. "Somewhere there has to be someone to convince them that they're not invincible."
Toth grinned at him in a soundless laugh.
Central Voresebo was in total chaos. Pillars of smoke rose from burning villages and farms. Crops had been put to the torch, and bands of armed men savagely attacked each other. One such skirmish was taking place in a burning field, and both sides were caught up in such a frenzy that they paid no attention to the wall of flame sweeping down on them.
Mutilated bodies seemed to be everywhere, and there was no way Garion could shield Ce'Nedra from the horrors littering the ditches and even the road itself. They galloped on.
As dusk descended over the stricken countryside, Durnik and Toth turned aside from the road to seek shelter for the night. They returned to report that they had discovered a low thicket lying in a gully a mile or so back from the road. "We won't be able to build any fires," Durnik said soberly, "but if we stay fairly quiet, I don't think anybody's going to find us."
The night was not pleasant. They took a cold supper in the thicket and tried for what scant shelter they could make out of what was available, since they could not erect their tents in the dense brush. Autumn was in the air, and it was cold, once the sky turned dark. As the first light of dawn touched the eastern horizon, they rose, ate a hasty breakfast, and rode on.
The cold, miserable night and the senseless slaughter all around them made Garion angry, and he grew angrier with each passing mile. About midmorning he saw a black-robed Grolim standing beside an altar several hundred yards out in a field to the right of the road. A band of roughly dressed soldiers were dragging three terrified villagers toward the altar by ropes tied
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