Read Online The Palace (Bell Mountain Series #6) by Lee Duigon - Free Book Online
Authors: Lee Duigon
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bird wheeled and swiftly galloped away from them. A good horse would have been hard put to overtake her.
Only then did the riders see the man lying facedown on the grass. Wytt was already bent over him, intently sniffing at his hair.
“Here is Whiteface!” he shrilled to Ellayne. “Ugly bird wanted to eat him.”
“Martis? Martis!”
Ellayne tried to jump down from Aswyll’s horse, but only succeeded in falling off. She was up in an instant and kneeling over Martis.
“He lives,” Wytt told her.
“It’s Martis!” she cried to the sergeant. “He’s hurt, but still alive.”
Kadmel dismounted and joined Ellayne. He’d had much experience in the realm of wounds and injuries; he’d seen them all. Gently he turned the body. Martis sighed, but didn’t come to. Kadmel examined him.
“He’s all worn out,” he said, “and he’s had a bad knock on the head. But once we get some food and water into him, he ought to be all right, by and by.” He turned back to his men. “We’ll make camp here,” he said. “It’s as good a place as any.”
Only then did Ellayne discover that she had tears running down her cheeks. She snatched Wytt up and kissed him. He made an angry, buzzing sound that meant that he was happy.
CHAPTER 9
How Ysbott Earned a Reward
They lost a day because Martis wasn’t fit to travel.
“Never mind me!” he said. “You came out here to rescue Jack—now do it!”
“If you rest a day, you’ll be able to ride,” Kadmel said—meaning Martis would have to double up with a trooper. “We might need you when we catch up to those men.”
“You might not catch up to them at all, if you stay here all day,” Martis said.
“Who were they? Tell us about them.”
“There’s nothing I can tell. I saw them for only the blink of an eye. I don’t know who they were or anything else.”
He tried again to convince Kadmel to leave him behind, but to no avail. “Help me, Ellayne!” he said. But she didn’t know what to think. All she knew for sure was that if the riders hadn’t come along when they had, the bird would have killed Martis—Wytt’s efforts notwithstanding.
“We can’t just leave you here to die,” she said.
“I’m not going to die,” he answered. “Jack’s in more danger than I am!”
“We’re on horseback; those men are on foot,” said Kadmel. “We’ll catch them.”
But they didn’t catch the outlaws.
As Ysbott’s band drew nearer to Silvertown, he drove them harder, and they were eager to get there. They took a shortcut through some miles of dense woodland on the hills, a route that Ysbott seemed to know, and it brought them out on the mail trail to Silvertown. It was more of a road than a trail, suitable even for carts, and here they made good time indeed—so much so, that they reached Silvertown ahead of Kadmel’s horsemen.
Silvertown had suffered in the war. A well-equipped Heathen army breached the walls and burned much of the city to the ground. Goryk Gillow had pressed the people into labor to mend the wall, throw up a mass of ramshackle housing, and in the center of the town, erect a new chamber house in place of the old one, which had been destroyed.
It was an ugly building, Jack thought—just the thing for such a place as this. For Goryk Gillow ruled Silvertown by violence and fear. His Heathen army, several thousand men, camped in a stockade beside the city, mostly in tents. As you approached the gates of Silvertown, you saw dead men hanging from gallows, left up there as a warning to the living. Everywhere you saw gangs of men, women, and even children toiling away at one project or another, with armed Heathen warriors as their overseers. A squad of kilted Dahai guarded the gate and let them in, once Ysbott had briefly stated his business—“Delivering a prisoner to His Grace the First Prester.”
“Looks like they’ve
Only then did the riders see the man lying facedown on the grass. Wytt was already bent over him, intently sniffing at his hair.
“Here is Whiteface!” he shrilled to Ellayne. “Ugly bird wanted to eat him.”
“Martis? Martis!”
Ellayne tried to jump down from Aswyll’s horse, but only succeeded in falling off. She was up in an instant and kneeling over Martis.
“He lives,” Wytt told her.
“It’s Martis!” she cried to the sergeant. “He’s hurt, but still alive.”
Kadmel dismounted and joined Ellayne. He’d had much experience in the realm of wounds and injuries; he’d seen them all. Gently he turned the body. Martis sighed, but didn’t come to. Kadmel examined him.
“He’s all worn out,” he said, “and he’s had a bad knock on the head. But once we get some food and water into him, he ought to be all right, by and by.” He turned back to his men. “We’ll make camp here,” he said. “It’s as good a place as any.”
Only then did Ellayne discover that she had tears running down her cheeks. She snatched Wytt up and kissed him. He made an angry, buzzing sound that meant that he was happy.
CHAPTER 9
How Ysbott Earned a Reward
They lost a day because Martis wasn’t fit to travel.
“Never mind me!” he said. “You came out here to rescue Jack—now do it!”
“If you rest a day, you’ll be able to ride,” Kadmel said—meaning Martis would have to double up with a trooper. “We might need you when we catch up to those men.”
“You might not catch up to them at all, if you stay here all day,” Martis said.
“Who were they? Tell us about them.”
“There’s nothing I can tell. I saw them for only the blink of an eye. I don’t know who they were or anything else.”
He tried again to convince Kadmel to leave him behind, but to no avail. “Help me, Ellayne!” he said. But she didn’t know what to think. All she knew for sure was that if the riders hadn’t come along when they had, the bird would have killed Martis—Wytt’s efforts notwithstanding.
“We can’t just leave you here to die,” she said.
“I’m not going to die,” he answered. “Jack’s in more danger than I am!”
“We’re on horseback; those men are on foot,” said Kadmel. “We’ll catch them.”
But they didn’t catch the outlaws.
As Ysbott’s band drew nearer to Silvertown, he drove them harder, and they were eager to get there. They took a shortcut through some miles of dense woodland on the hills, a route that Ysbott seemed to know, and it brought them out on the mail trail to Silvertown. It was more of a road than a trail, suitable even for carts, and here they made good time indeed—so much so, that they reached Silvertown ahead of Kadmel’s horsemen.
Silvertown had suffered in the war. A well-equipped Heathen army breached the walls and burned much of the city to the ground. Goryk Gillow had pressed the people into labor to mend the wall, throw up a mass of ramshackle housing, and in the center of the town, erect a new chamber house in place of the old one, which had been destroyed.
It was an ugly building, Jack thought—just the thing for such a place as this. For Goryk Gillow ruled Silvertown by violence and fear. His Heathen army, several thousand men, camped in a stockade beside the city, mostly in tents. As you approached the gates of Silvertown, you saw dead men hanging from gallows, left up there as a warning to the living. Everywhere you saw gangs of men, women, and even children toiling away at one project or another, with armed Heathen warriors as their overseers. A squad of kilted Dahai guarded the gate and let them in, once Ysbott had briefly stated his business—“Delivering a prisoner to His Grace the First Prester.”
“Looks like they’ve
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