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General, let me see your wound.
Dreibrand did not move his hand to let Xander look at his side. He wanted to
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pretend it was just another minor injury. But it felt different it felt worse.
He did not want Xander to see it and tell him it was a mortal wound. Tell him
that his guts had been cut open and it would be a slow painful death. Hunching
protectively over his injury, he wondered if he deserved such a fate.
 Where is Shan? Dreibrand asked.
 With Taischek. He should be safe now, Xander answered.
Dreibrand sighed with profound relief and reluctantly allowed Xander to
examine the wound.
Xander was a skilled wound tender, relied on by Taischek, and Dreibrand
trusted in his help.
Silently Xander judged the wound and Dreibrand worried more.
Kalek watched without comment and Dreibrand hoped he showed no weakness to the
quarrelsome heir.
At length Xander straightened and placed Dreibrand s arm over his shoulders.
 Keep a tight hold on the wound and put as much of your weight as you can on
me. Try to only use the leg on your good side. If you try to walk on your own,
you will make it worse.
 Is it bad? Dreibrand asked. The question sounded stupid.
 Yes, it is. And I will miss dinner stitching you shut, but you should live,
Xander said.
 I think I can walk on my own, Dreibrand said.
 No you can t. We might end up carrying you yet, Xander said.
Leaning on the Temu General, Dreibrand started to limp away. He cast one last
look at the
Overlord s body, wondering what it would have been like if they had not been
enemies.
The other warriors carried Redan out of the forest, but Dreibrand managed to
stay upright all the way back to the lodge. Because he was slow, he was the
last to return to the lodge and the news of his victory preceded him. The
great deed of defeating the Overlord in a duel lifted the spirits of the Temu
after the shock of the ambush.
Dreibrand insisted on seeing Shan although Xander wanted him to lie down
immediately. Xander helped him up the stairs.
 Once you get up these, you won t come down for a while, Xander warned, but
Dreibrand continued painfully.
Shan had been placed in the King s bedchamber, and the rys had already been
bandaged. Taischek sat on the edge of the bed checking the bandages that bound
Shan s chest. Shan turned his head weakly when Dreibrand arrived.
Leaning in the doorway, Dreibrand reported,  I have killed the Overlord, but
at least one Kezanada escaped.
 Yes, I just heard. Dreibrand, how badly are you hurt? Shan asked.
 My side is cut, but I am going to live, Dreibrand said.
 He needs to be helped now, Xander interjected.
 Yes, of course. Do not stand there staring at me, Dreibrand. Let Xander help
you, Shan scolded.
 But what about you? Dreibrand asked, unwilling to leave.
 I will heal. And thank you for fighting for me. I thank you all, Shan
murmured.
 You can wait no longer, Xander insisted and there was no denying him this
time. Slowly
Dreibrand allowed himself to be led down the hall.
Alone again with Taischek, the rys asked,  And how is Redan?
 He rests in our care, Taischek answered vaguely. The King had been told that
the Zenglawa had lost too much blood to survive, but Taischek did not wish to
distress Shan with the grim prognosis.
Taischek added,  I have had all of these enchanted weapons gathered so they
cannot be used against you again.
 Good. I will learn much from them, but not now. I must rest. Taischek, I am
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going to enter a deep healing rest. Do not fear for me because I can repair
the damage if left to do so. I may not wake for as long as three days. Please
do not move me and do not worry, Shan instructed.
 Is there anything else I can do? Taischek asked.
Shan shut his eyes and whispered,  No, I will be fine.
Worry lines gathered into a frown on Taischek s face. He had never really
accepted that Shan had vulnerabilities and it was a hard fact to face. In the
spring thousands of warriors armies would try to cut down the rys, and
Taischek could not let it happen.
4 ~ Protégé ~
A scream of frustration rang inside the Tomb of Dacian. Falling to her knees,
Onja clutched the sarcophagus of her husband and growled with unwordable
wrath. Blue fire radiated from her eyes, glowing on her perspiring face. To
clearly see through the wardings of the weapons that she had lent the Kezanada
was a severe strain, especially at such a distance.
Onja had watched the Kezanada stalk Shan after he had foolishly departed
Dengar Nor. The efficiency of the Kezanada spy network had pleased her and she
appreciated the expertise with which the Overlord hunted Shan.
When the attack came, Onja observed with satisfaction that Shan had been
unprepared for the ancient magic of the rys weapons. Such workings were lost
to the rys these days and Shan had never detected the artifacts hidden in the
tower. Onja knew that Shan had mentally explored the tower in the past, but
she guarded her original lair in an elaborate double warding. The spells that
sealed and preserved the tower were not sufficient to keep out Shan s powerful
mind, but Onja had conceived an insulating spell that made the tower appear
completely empty even when Shan pierced its first defense. This ruse had kept
Shan from probing deeper and Onja had always been delighted with her artifice.
But now, it maddened Onja to see her victory over the renegade rys turn into a
disaster. The swing of her emotions tore at her mind. At first, she had
exulted in triumph at the successful ambush. The magic arrow had pierced
Shan s body and she had enjoyed his torment as he learned that his ignorance
was going to kill him.
Then Shan had survived and the magic weapons had fallen into his possession.
Onja knew that once he examined those ancient enchantments, his mind would be
stimulated in whole new directions. Shan had been born into comparatively
innocent times for a rys, and some of the more sinister applications of rys
power had never occurred to him.
Now that would change.
Again Onja cried out in unhinged fury. Her victory had dissolved into mayhem.
Shan had avoided the killing blow and his humans had saved him. Her humans had
not only failed but plotted treachery as well. When she had heard the
Overlord s foolish plan to kill her, she had been glad that the unruly
Atrophane had killed him.
As Shan lay wounded in bed, Onja wanted to strike him dead, but he was too far
away. Every year eroded the scope of her power. She longed for the strength of
her youth when she had been the hand of judgement to those who did not obey
her. She tried to tap extra energy from Dacian s mighty spirit, but the
stubborn soul of the rys King would not help her kill another rys and even he
had so little left to give. The strength to kill Shan she could not extract
from him.
Exhausted by her bitter anger, Onja hung her head and the light faded from her
eyes. She would have to kill Shan herself when he came back to Jingten. Shan
could not defeat her. No one ever did.
Eventually Onja came down from the tower. Hefshul did not wait with the skiff
because the lake was recently frozen. Instead, she had ridden a horse from the
city. The animal stood dutifully in the snow. The icy Rysamand wind tugged at
the horse s white mane that matched the flowing hair of its royal rider. Onja
rode back to the Keep with her black eyes narrowed against the snowglare.
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Upon her return, she closed herself in private chambers to soothe the sting of
failure with thoughts of violence and domination. Shan s rebellion was just a [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]