Read Online To Green Angel Tower, Volume 2 by Tad Williams - Free Book Online
Authors: Tad Williams
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diversion, he then considered the Canon of Knighthood and Camaris’ teachings; when that failed to hold his interest for more than half a league, he quietly sang all the Jack Mundwode songs he knew. Later, after Miriamele had rebuffed several more attempts at conversation, Simon began counting the stars that dotted the sky, numerous as grains of salt spilled on an ebony tabletop.
At last, when Simon was certain that he would soon go mad—and equally certain that a full week must have passed during this one long night—Miriamele reined up and pointed to a copse of trees standing on a low hill some three or four furlongs from the wide rut of the infant road.
“There,” she said. “We’ll stop there and sleep.”
“I don’t need to sleep yet,” Simon lied. “We can ride longer if you want to.”
“There’s no point. I don’t want to be out in the open in daylight tomorrow. Later, when we’re farther away, we can ride when it’s light.”
Simon shrugged. “If you say so.” He had wanted this adventure, if that was what it was, so he migh as well endure it as cheerfully as possible. In the first moments of their escape he had imagined—during those few brief instants in which he had allowed himself to think at all—that Miriamele would be more pleasant once the immediate worry of discovery had lessened. Instead, she had seemed to grow even more morose as the night wore on.
The trees at the top of the hill grew close together, making an almost seamless wall between their makeshift camp and the road. They did not light a fire—Simon had to admit he could see the wisdom of that—but instead shared some water and a little wine by moonlight, and gnawed on a bit of Miriamele’s bread.
When they had wrapped themselves in their cloaks and were lying side by side on their bedrolls, Simon suddenly found that his weariness had fled—in fact, he did not feel the least bit sleepy. He listened, but although Miriamele’s breathing was quiet and regular, she did not sound like she was sleeping either. Somewhere in the trees, a lone cricket was gently sawing away.
“Miriamele?”
“What?”
“You really should tell me where we’re going. I would do better as your protector. I could think about it and make plans.”
She laughed quietly. “I’m certain that’s true. I will tell you, Simon. But not tonight.”
He frowned as he stared up at the stars peeping through the branches. “Very well.”
“You should go to sleep now. It will be harder to do once the sun is up.”
Did all women have a little Rachel the Dragon in them? They certainly seemed to enjoy telling him what he should do. He opened his mouth to tell her he didn’t need any rest just yet, but yawned instead.
He was trying to remember what he had meant to say even as he passed over into sleep.
In the dream Simon stood on the edge of a great sea. Extending from the beach before him was a thin causeway of land that extended out right through the teeth of the waves, leading to an island some long distance offshore. The island was bare except for three tall white towers which shimmered in the late afternoon sun, but the towers were not what interested Simon. Walking on the island before them, passing in and out of their threefold shadow, was a tiny figure with white hair and a blue robe. Simon was certain it was Doctor Morgenes.
He was considering the causeway—it would be easy enough to walk across, but the tide was growing higher, and soon might cover the thin spit of land entirely—when he heard a distant voice. Out on the ocean, midway between the island and the rocky shoal where Simon stood, a small boat was rocking and bobbing in the grip of strong waves. Two figures stood in the boat, one tall and solid, the other small and slender. It took a few moments t o recognize Geloë and Leleth. The woman was calling something to him, but her voice was lost in the roar of the sea.
What are they doing out in a boat? Simon thought. It will
At last, when Simon was certain that he would soon go mad—and equally certain that a full week must have passed during this one long night—Miriamele reined up and pointed to a copse of trees standing on a low hill some three or four furlongs from the wide rut of the infant road.
“There,” she said. “We’ll stop there and sleep.”
“I don’t need to sleep yet,” Simon lied. “We can ride longer if you want to.”
“There’s no point. I don’t want to be out in the open in daylight tomorrow. Later, when we’re farther away, we can ride when it’s light.”
Simon shrugged. “If you say so.” He had wanted this adventure, if that was what it was, so he migh as well endure it as cheerfully as possible. In the first moments of their escape he had imagined—during those few brief instants in which he had allowed himself to think at all—that Miriamele would be more pleasant once the immediate worry of discovery had lessened. Instead, she had seemed to grow even more morose as the night wore on.
The trees at the top of the hill grew close together, making an almost seamless wall between their makeshift camp and the road. They did not light a fire—Simon had to admit he could see the wisdom of that—but instead shared some water and a little wine by moonlight, and gnawed on a bit of Miriamele’s bread.
When they had wrapped themselves in their cloaks and were lying side by side on their bedrolls, Simon suddenly found that his weariness had fled—in fact, he did not feel the least bit sleepy. He listened, but although Miriamele’s breathing was quiet and regular, she did not sound like she was sleeping either. Somewhere in the trees, a lone cricket was gently sawing away.
“Miriamele?”
“What?”
“You really should tell me where we’re going. I would do better as your protector. I could think about it and make plans.”
She laughed quietly. “I’m certain that’s true. I will tell you, Simon. But not tonight.”
He frowned as he stared up at the stars peeping through the branches. “Very well.”
“You should go to sleep now. It will be harder to do once the sun is up.”
Did all women have a little Rachel the Dragon in them? They certainly seemed to enjoy telling him what he should do. He opened his mouth to tell her he didn’t need any rest just yet, but yawned instead.
He was trying to remember what he had meant to say even as he passed over into sleep.
In the dream Simon stood on the edge of a great sea. Extending from the beach before him was a thin causeway of land that extended out right through the teeth of the waves, leading to an island some long distance offshore. The island was bare except for three tall white towers which shimmered in the late afternoon sun, but the towers were not what interested Simon. Walking on the island before them, passing in and out of their threefold shadow, was a tiny figure with white hair and a blue robe. Simon was certain it was Doctor Morgenes.
He was considering the causeway—it would be easy enough to walk across, but the tide was growing higher, and soon might cover the thin spit of land entirely—when he heard a distant voice. Out on the ocean, midway between the island and the rocky shoal where Simon stood, a small boat was rocking and bobbing in the grip of strong waves. Two figures stood in the boat, one tall and solid, the other small and slender. It took a few moments t o recognize Geloë and Leleth. The woman was calling something to him, but her voice was lost in the roar of the sea.
What are they doing out in a boat? Simon thought. It will
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