Read Online The King in Reserve by Michael Pryor - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Michael Pryor
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rummaged about and found a strip of dried, spiced meat in one of his saddlebags. He chewed on it thoughtfully, glad he wouldn't have to don his armour straightaway. Even though it was far more comfortable than conventional armour, it didn't stop his sweating and itching. He enjoyed the air on his skin and the chance for a good scratch.
He stretched hugely, yawned and attacked a ferocious itch just above the base of his tail. 'My tunic needs a good wash,' he said.
Simangee wrinkled her snout. 'And so do you, Adalon.'
'When we get back to the Lost Castle.' Adalon half-smiled. He never thought he'd be thinking of an A'ak stronghold as home.
Gormond strolled about, using a stick to scrape creeper away from stone. He peered with obvious interest at the masonry before scrambling over a chunk of broken battlement. 'If this is the wall, the keep must have been over there,' he said. 'Marvellous!'
Adalon looked over the expanse. Mature trees grew out of what must once have been a courtyard. The low humps of creeper-covered stone that ran in a rough circle could have been walls. Green-swathed hummocks would have been stables and outbuildings. He tried to imagine it when it was new – a bustling courtyard, wagons, the smoke of cooking fires.
Simangee and Targesh joined Adalon. She offered him some tea. 'Gormond seems as interested in the A'ak as I am,' she said.
Targesh chuckled. 'He's living his dream.'
They watched as the young king stooped and picked up a shard of stone. He examined it for a moment then lobbed it toward the tangled thicket of wild roses on the west of the ruined keep. It vanished without a sound.
When Gormond had reached halfway between the remains of the walls and the keep, he stopped and scratched at the ground with his stick. Then he bent over nearly double, peering at what he'd uncovered. He straightened and waved. 'Look! See what I've found!'
But before they could take a step, the earth around Gormond opened up. A cloud of dust and he disappeared.
Adalon grabbed his sword and vaulted the ruined wall before he knew it. He raced to the spot where the young king had vanished. Waving away dust, he searched with slitted eyes until he found the yawning hole. He sheathed his sword and dropped to his knees. 'Gormond!'
Simangee circled the hole, keeping back from the edge, which was a mess of loose earth, creeper and crumbling flagstones. 'Gormond!' she called.
Targesh reached Adalon's side, a coil of rope in his hands. Without a word, he looped the rope around his massive shoulders and threw an end into the pit. 'Go,' he grunted, then dug in his feet.
Adalon knew that Targesh was as solid as a tree trunk. He took the rope, his feet braced against the crumbling walls of the shaft, and began to lower himself. He glanced up to see Simangee's anxious face looking down at him. 'Hurry up,' she called. 'I'm coming after you.'
Adalon curled his tail to one side and eased himself downward. He felt stone against the soles of his feet. A gentle draught was clearing the dust and he quickly reached the bottom. He'd been afraid that he was going to find Gormond's body, but the dry, stone-lined bottom of the pit was bare.
He shaded his eyes. Simangee was on the edge of the hole, only three or four armspans up. 'I'm down,' he said. 'Solid stone underfoot.'
Immediately, she took the rope and slithered down, taking far less time than Adalon had. 'Where is he?' she asked as she wiped her hands on her tunic.
Three round tunnels led away from the pit, each nearly as tall as Adalon. They smelled dry and were made of the tightly fitted stonework that Adalon had grown to recognise as A'ak work. Each of the tunnels led to darkness.
'Which one?' Simangee asked, turning her crested head from side to side. 'Where can he be?'
'I have no idea.'
A voice came from the middle tunnel. 'I'm in this one. Hurry up, will you? And bring a light. It's dark down here.'
Gormond kept up a steady stream of complaints while Targesh went back
He stretched hugely, yawned and attacked a ferocious itch just above the base of his tail. 'My tunic needs a good wash,' he said.
Simangee wrinkled her snout. 'And so do you, Adalon.'
'When we get back to the Lost Castle.' Adalon half-smiled. He never thought he'd be thinking of an A'ak stronghold as home.
Gormond strolled about, using a stick to scrape creeper away from stone. He peered with obvious interest at the masonry before scrambling over a chunk of broken battlement. 'If this is the wall, the keep must have been over there,' he said. 'Marvellous!'
Adalon looked over the expanse. Mature trees grew out of what must once have been a courtyard. The low humps of creeper-covered stone that ran in a rough circle could have been walls. Green-swathed hummocks would have been stables and outbuildings. He tried to imagine it when it was new – a bustling courtyard, wagons, the smoke of cooking fires.
Simangee and Targesh joined Adalon. She offered him some tea. 'Gormond seems as interested in the A'ak as I am,' she said.
Targesh chuckled. 'He's living his dream.'
They watched as the young king stooped and picked up a shard of stone. He examined it for a moment then lobbed it toward the tangled thicket of wild roses on the west of the ruined keep. It vanished without a sound.
When Gormond had reached halfway between the remains of the walls and the keep, he stopped and scratched at the ground with his stick. Then he bent over nearly double, peering at what he'd uncovered. He straightened and waved. 'Look! See what I've found!'
But before they could take a step, the earth around Gormond opened up. A cloud of dust and he disappeared.
Adalon grabbed his sword and vaulted the ruined wall before he knew it. He raced to the spot where the young king had vanished. Waving away dust, he searched with slitted eyes until he found the yawning hole. He sheathed his sword and dropped to his knees. 'Gormond!'
Simangee circled the hole, keeping back from the edge, which was a mess of loose earth, creeper and crumbling flagstones. 'Gormond!' she called.
Targesh reached Adalon's side, a coil of rope in his hands. Without a word, he looped the rope around his massive shoulders and threw an end into the pit. 'Go,' he grunted, then dug in his feet.
Adalon knew that Targesh was as solid as a tree trunk. He took the rope, his feet braced against the crumbling walls of the shaft, and began to lower himself. He glanced up to see Simangee's anxious face looking down at him. 'Hurry up,' she called. 'I'm coming after you.'
Adalon curled his tail to one side and eased himself downward. He felt stone against the soles of his feet. A gentle draught was clearing the dust and he quickly reached the bottom. He'd been afraid that he was going to find Gormond's body, but the dry, stone-lined bottom of the pit was bare.
He shaded his eyes. Simangee was on the edge of the hole, only three or four armspans up. 'I'm down,' he said. 'Solid stone underfoot.'
Immediately, she took the rope and slithered down, taking far less time than Adalon had. 'Where is he?' she asked as she wiped her hands on her tunic.
Three round tunnels led away from the pit, each nearly as tall as Adalon. They smelled dry and were made of the tightly fitted stonework that Adalon had grown to recognise as A'ak work. Each of the tunnels led to darkness.
'Which one?' Simangee asked, turning her crested head from side to side. 'Where can he be?'
'I have no idea.'
A voice came from the middle tunnel. 'I'm in this one. Hurry up, will you? And bring a light. It's dark down here.'
Gormond kept up a steady stream of complaints while Targesh went back
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