Название | Krondor: The Betrayal |
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Автор произведения | Raymond E. Feist |
Жанр | Зарубежное фэнтези |
Серия | |
Издательство | Зарубежное фэнтези |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9780007374977 |
Locklear glanced at Gorath who gave a slight nod of agreement to what was being said. Locklear said, ‘Very well, Isaac, here’s what you’re doing. Get something to write with.’
Isaac glanced around the room and saw an old scrap of faded leather sitting in a corner. He crossed to the small fireplace and fished out some charcoal. He said, ‘What do I write?’
‘Write this: “Ruby taken by Prince’s man. Three you seek are on the way to Eggly. I am undone and must flee.” Then sign your name.’
Isaac signed, looking pale as he put down those words. ‘This marks me, Locky.’
‘You were marked the moment you took gold to turn your hand against your king. You deserve to be hanged, and eventually you will be unless you change your ways, but it will be for another crime, not for this.’
‘Unless Nago’s agents find you first,’ added Gorath.
That was all Isaac needed. ‘What do I do with this?’
‘Put it in the chest where you are to leave the ruby, then I suggest you start running. If you don’t put that note there, and I get to Krondor, I’ll hire assassins even if they have to travel to the farthest reaches of Kesh to find you. You can cut your hair and colour it, grow a beard, and wear furs like a Brijainer, but you can’t hide that leg, Isaac. Now get out of here.’
Isaac didn’t hesitate. He grabbed his sword, his cloak and the note and hurried out the back door.
‘How could you spare that traitor?’ asked Gorath.
‘Dead he is of little use to us, and alive he may direct our foes to another path.’ Locklear looked at Gorath. ‘And isn’t it a little odd you’re showing contempt for a traitor?’
The look Gorath returned could only be called murderous. ‘I am no traitor. I’m trying to save my people, human.’ He offered no further embellishment, but turned and said, ‘We must be away. That one cannot be trusted and may attempt to bargain for his life.’
Locklear said, ‘I know, but either way he plants the note, or he is found and tells them what he knows, which isn’t much. They were trying to kill us before we got the ruby. They can’t make us any more dead for having it.’
‘I think I have a way for us to avoid detection for a while and perhaps reach Nago unseen,’ Gorath said.
‘How?’ asked Locklear.
‘I know the way they reach this village of Yellow Mule. If we take the ridge road toward the town you call Eggly, leaving as we told in the note, there’s a trail a day’s quick run south of here that leads into the higher ridges. It is, I believe, the same trail that empties out near Rowe’s farm.’
‘How could you know that?’ asked Locklear, suddenly suspicious.
Gorath’s patience appeared near its end, but he managed to reply evenly. ‘Because I lived in these mountains as a child, before you humans came to plague us. Before this land became infested with your kind, my people lived here. I’ve fished along these rivers and hunted in these mountains.’ His voice lowered and he said, ‘I may have built my campfire on the spot you humans have built this house. Now, let us go. It’s no long journey for a moredhel, but you humans tire easily, and besides, your wounds will slow you even more.’
‘And yours won’t?’ asked Owyn.
‘Not so that you would notice,’ replied the dark elf, turning to the door without waiting for a response and leaving the building.
Locklear and Owyn hurried after and found Gorath waiting. ‘We need to buy food. Have we enough gold?’
‘For food, yes,’ said Locklear. ‘For horses, no.’
They headed to an inn at the east end of town, and Locklear arranged for travel rations, food bound in parchment heavily coated with beeswax, mostly dried or heavily salted to prevent spoilage. While they waited Locklear asked what conditions were like on the road to Eggly, pointedly being loud enough that a few suspicious-looking men hanging about the commons early in the day could overhear. Should anyone ask about them, he was certain this would only reinforce the false information in Isaac’s note.
They left the inn and hurried on the road toward the town of Eggly. Locklear glanced upward, considered the rapidly rising ridge above the trees on the western side of the trail and considered the wisdom of hiking up to that elevation and over the mountains down into a nest of killers over which presided a murderous moredhel sorcerer. Finally he was left with the only answer which he could come up with: there wasn’t a better idea presenting itself.
Resigning himself to a long walk and cold nights, he followed Gorath, with Owyn at his side.
THE WIND HOWLED THROUGH THE PASS.
Locklear spoke through chattering teeth. ‘The things I do for king and country.’
Gorath said, ‘Ignore the cold. As long as you can feel your fingers and toes, it is only discomfort, nothing more.’
‘Easy for you to say,’ said Owyn shivering almost uncontrollably. ‘You’re used to it, living up in the Northlands.’
‘You’re never “used to it”, human. You just learn to accept things over which you have no control.’ He looked meaningfully at the two young men, then pointed. ‘We can expect to see a sentry any time now.’
‘What should we do?’ asked Locklear, the cold and his hunger robbing him of his wits.
‘Wait over there,’ said Gorath, ‘while I scout.’
Locklear and Owyn went to the relative shelter provided by the lee side of a huge boulder and waited. Time dragged on and Owyn and Locklear sat close together to preserve warmth.
Suddenly Gorath returned. ‘There are four guards near the barn,’ he said. ‘Within, I do not know, but even alone Nago is dangerous.’
Locklear stood and stomped his feet to restore warmth, flexing fingers and moving in place, getting ready to engage an enemy. ‘What do we do?’ he asked again, content to let Gorath lead in this circumstance.
Gorath said, ‘Owyn, I have no idea of what you are capable, but Nago is a spell-caster of much ability. He can wither a foe with his arts, turning him to lifeless ash, or drive one away screaming in terror. He and his brother are among the most dangerous allies of Delekhan, and serve him even more vigorously since the coming of the Six.’
‘Who are the Six?’ asked Owyn.
Locklear waved away the question. ‘So, how do we deal with Nago?’
Gorath pointed to Owyn. ‘You must distract him, boy. Locklear and I will dispatch the other four, and anyone else who might be within the barn, but the magician must be your concern. Cause him to falter, to hesitate, to attempt to leave; anything, but you must keep him there for me to deal with and you must keep him from bringing his arts to bear. Can you do that?’
Owyn was obviously frightened, but he said, ‘I will try.’
‘No one can ask for more,’ said Gorath. To Locklear he said, ‘We have surprise, but we must kill the first two quickly. If we are overpowered, or even if we are delayed overmuch in reaching Nago, this will all come to a bad end. If Owyn can’t occupy the magician until we reach him, he will end our journey before we can warn your prince.’
Locklear said, ‘Then why are we doing this?’ Before Gorath could answer, Locklear held up his hand. ‘I know, the noose is tightening and if we don’t do it now, we will never reach Krondor.’
Gorath