Read Online The Curse in the Gift (The Last Whisper of the Gods Book 2) by James Berardinelli - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: James Berardinelli
Ads: Link
portal and greet Sorial there or wait long enough to be sure he wasn’t coming. She didn’t know how long that might be. It wasn’t a question she wanted to face.
The four were gathered in the room shared by Kara and Alicia. Soon, Vagrum and Rexall would head to the common room to hear the latest gossip and learn what they could about the path ahead while Kara and Alicia retired. Aside from the whores and serving girls (who, unlike in The Wayfarer’s Comfort, were not necessarily interchangeable), women weren’t often seen outside their private rooms at this hour. This was a time for men to drink too much ale, laugh at bawdy jokes, and get into brawls.
“How does it look for tomorrow?” asked Rexall.
Vagrum shrugged. “Hard to say. There are still groups coming through from the North, although none of the big caravans, and fewer every day. Too dangerous for the bigger wagons and becoming a risk for the smaller ones. I talked to a merchant’s guard today and he said it wasn’t too bad. Slippery in places and there are patches where the road turned to mud. The bridges - those two long, narrow passages with steep drop-offs on either side - are the most challenging, as you’d expect. They lost a pack horse and all its gear on one of ’em. But it’s passable. For now.” There was emphasis on the last word.
“It’s not now you’re concerned about,” said Kara.
“No,” admitted Vagrum. “It ain’t. We’ll get in all right and, if the weather holds, we’ll get out the other side in six days or so. They won’t be the most pleasant six days. There ain’t no inns for sleeping and we can’t go far from the road or we’ll end up in a ravine. My concern’s that we could get caught in a squall while we’s up there. If that happens, we’re like as not dead. An’ this is the time o’ the year for ’em. That merchant’s guard said he got double pay for coming on a run this late. This close to Winter, you’re gambling your life on the weather, and that ain’t the best bet.”
“But one we’ll take. We’ve got no choice. We must get to the portal before Sorial, and this is the only way we’re assured to do it.” Alicia spoke quietly. Her word was final. “Unless the weather changes for the worse in the morning, we leave for the pass.”
“The weather’ll be fine in the morning.” Vagrum’s experience on the road made him the best prognosticator of the skies. “After that, I’d say pray to the gods, but they ain’t hearing prayers no more.” He’d never been much of a praying man anyway, preferring to rely on his strong arm and good common sense rather than hoping someone was watching over him. He had always supposed the gods had better things to do than look out for the likes of him.
The big man’s weather forecast was good. They awoke to the first clear morning in over a week, but along with the clear came a noticeable chill. If the skies clouded now, snow would fall instead of rain. And, since it was colder in the pass, wet spots would be icing up. “It ain’t all bad,” remarked Vagrum. “The cold will harden up the mud. We ain’t gonna have to worry about getting stuck in it.” All they had to be concerned with was losing footing on a narrow portion of the trail and slipping over the edge of a cliff. Over the centuries, Widow’s Pass had earned its name.
As they set off on the road headed north, The Broken Crags loomed over them. The ground sloped steeply upward and the horses were laboring after less than an hour, their breaths streaming white clouds. Despite being bundled in a heavy wool cloak, Alicia was shivering. She cast a worried glance at Vagrum, who was in his customary place in the lead, but the big man appeared fine. He had shown signs of improvement during the time spent in The Gateway, but he was by no means back to his usual self. She was concerned about how he would hold up if they had to lead the horses. His stamina flagged quickly.
They were alone on this
The four were gathered in the room shared by Kara and Alicia. Soon, Vagrum and Rexall would head to the common room to hear the latest gossip and learn what they could about the path ahead while Kara and Alicia retired. Aside from the whores and serving girls (who, unlike in The Wayfarer’s Comfort, were not necessarily interchangeable), women weren’t often seen outside their private rooms at this hour. This was a time for men to drink too much ale, laugh at bawdy jokes, and get into brawls.
“How does it look for tomorrow?” asked Rexall.
Vagrum shrugged. “Hard to say. There are still groups coming through from the North, although none of the big caravans, and fewer every day. Too dangerous for the bigger wagons and becoming a risk for the smaller ones. I talked to a merchant’s guard today and he said it wasn’t too bad. Slippery in places and there are patches where the road turned to mud. The bridges - those two long, narrow passages with steep drop-offs on either side - are the most challenging, as you’d expect. They lost a pack horse and all its gear on one of ’em. But it’s passable. For now.” There was emphasis on the last word.
“It’s not now you’re concerned about,” said Kara.
“No,” admitted Vagrum. “It ain’t. We’ll get in all right and, if the weather holds, we’ll get out the other side in six days or so. They won’t be the most pleasant six days. There ain’t no inns for sleeping and we can’t go far from the road or we’ll end up in a ravine. My concern’s that we could get caught in a squall while we’s up there. If that happens, we’re like as not dead. An’ this is the time o’ the year for ’em. That merchant’s guard said he got double pay for coming on a run this late. This close to Winter, you’re gambling your life on the weather, and that ain’t the best bet.”
“But one we’ll take. We’ve got no choice. We must get to the portal before Sorial, and this is the only way we’re assured to do it.” Alicia spoke quietly. Her word was final. “Unless the weather changes for the worse in the morning, we leave for the pass.”
“The weather’ll be fine in the morning.” Vagrum’s experience on the road made him the best prognosticator of the skies. “After that, I’d say pray to the gods, but they ain’t hearing prayers no more.” He’d never been much of a praying man anyway, preferring to rely on his strong arm and good common sense rather than hoping someone was watching over him. He had always supposed the gods had better things to do than look out for the likes of him.
The big man’s weather forecast was good. They awoke to the first clear morning in over a week, but along with the clear came a noticeable chill. If the skies clouded now, snow would fall instead of rain. And, since it was colder in the pass, wet spots would be icing up. “It ain’t all bad,” remarked Vagrum. “The cold will harden up the mud. We ain’t gonna have to worry about getting stuck in it.” All they had to be concerned with was losing footing on a narrow portion of the trail and slipping over the edge of a cliff. Over the centuries, Widow’s Pass had earned its name.
As they set off on the road headed north, The Broken Crags loomed over them. The ground sloped steeply upward and the horses were laboring after less than an hour, their breaths streaming white clouds. Despite being bundled in a heavy wool cloak, Alicia was shivering. She cast a worried glance at Vagrum, who was in his customary place in the lead, but the big man appeared fine. He had shown signs of improvement during the time spent in The Gateway, but he was by no means back to his usual self. She was concerned about how he would hold up if they had to lead the horses. His stamina flagged quickly.
They were alone on this
Similar Books
