Read Online The Dark Glory War by Michael A. Stackpole - Free Book Online

presumably, to carry us back. They also had brought along a string of spare horses.
    One of Lord Norrington’s huntsmen, dressed all in green leathers, found us first. He blew a blast on the small brass horn he wore on his right hip, then shucked off a pack and drew out a silver flask. He offered it to me, and I sniffed it first before I drank. I drank sparingly, but gladly let the brandy burn its way to my belly.
    I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand, then gave the flask to Nay. “It’s brandy.”
    Nay tipped the flask back and took a long pull on it, then his eyes bugged out. Bringing his head forward he swallowed, then coughed a couple of times and swiped at the tears streaming from his eyes. He fixed me with a green glare and whispered hoarsely, “You meant it wasreal brandy.”
    “I did.”
    He looked away from me and toward the east as hoofbeats drummed loudly. A magnificent black stallion crested the hill, spraying dirt and rusty pine needles about as he dug his forehooves into the ground. The bridle and saddle were black leather chased with silver, likewise the saddlebow-scabbard and quiver at the horse’s left shoulder.
    Astride the horse’s back sat a tall, lean man with a piercing brown gaze. He wore a hood of green leather that matched the verdant suede of his personal mask. Ribbons adorned the mask and temeryx claws hooked down from above the eyeholes as if they were eyebrows. His mouth was set in a grim, thin-lipped line and he intently studied the two of us, tattered and tired and sweat-soaked.
    I immediately dropped to a knee and bowed my head. I glanced at Nay, then flicked my left hand at him, directing him to follow my lead. Nay did, and keeping my head down, I waited for the man to address us.
    The saddle leather creaked as the man dismounted. His horse snorted and shook his head, jingling the tack. Sticks cracked beneath the man’s booted feet, then he stopped before me and I felt his gloved hands on my shoulders. “Rise, Tarrant Hawkins. Today there is no reason for you to be on bended knee before me.”
    “My Lord Norrington is too kind.” I slowly rose, then stepped back and rested my left hand on Nay’s shoulder. “This is Naysmith Carver.”
    “Rise, Naysmith Carver. You have both done great things here.”
    I shook my head. “No greater than what Leigh … Bosleigh did in summoning help. His run—”
    Lord Norrington held a finger up to silence me. “I know very well what my son did, and of him I am very proud, but the two of you … My son tells me that you attacked a temeryx armed only with a stick and a dagger. And in the dark, no less.”
    Nay shifted his feet nervously. “Had it been light, my lord, it might have been different.”
    “I have found, Master Carver, there are few men who brave horrors at night who will then run from the same in daylight.” He turned and gathered up his horse’s reins. “You two will come with me. We have horses for you, or you can ride in the cart, as you will. We even have a large horse for you, Master Carver.”
    Nay frowned. “But Rounce …”
    Norrington turned and smiled. “My people will take care of him. Sandes!”
    The huntsman who found us looked up from where he knelt next to Rounce. “Yes, my lord?”
    “Convey Master Playfair to the cart. Abandon the sled, but bring the pelt and the other bits they took from it. We’ll need that.”
    “As you command, my lord.”
    Other huntsmen who had been summoned by the horn came running up to where we were. Nay shrugged himself out of the harness and came up on my left, placing me between himself and Leigh’s father. I had known Lord Norrington since I was too young to clearly remember anything. I knew him as Leigh’s father and my father’s master, and my father was inclined toward strict formality where Lord Norrington was concerned. Lord Norrington was a bit more forgiving on that count. While his invitation to walk with him didn’t surprise me, the fact that he did not mount up and treat us as the moonmasked youths we