LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

the upper but I don’t think you will be there for too long. But I am certain of one thing, there is more to this deal than you are saying. But I see a little of myself in your work and I am going to enjoy dealing with you in the future.” He laughed again. “For the sake of our future I am going to give you your chance. I believe you will profit from this deal but I will have my share. I will sell you all my current holdings at the price you have been paying for I, too, am only interested in control. I will give you the Poh fish market so you may get your place on the floor but do not challenge my generosity again,” he warned.

      The deal was drawn up and the signed contract sent to the money-changer. Tomorrow she would leak the news to the upper that Ortalia had fallen.

      Chapter 8

      The land spread out before him as if it would never end. Vast seas of rolling grass rising and falling over the long, low swells of the ground rippled beneath the soft breeze. It felt good to be out here, almost alone, riding beside the gods. The man on the dappled mare beside him who was his companion for the mission was all but forgotten as he walked his mount through the emptiness. This was the land of entities whose beings were so great they needed spaces like this just to stretch their minds.

      Lenk-shadow Gerard rode in silence appreciating the intensity of life in a place where none seemed to exist. He did not speak of these feelings with others, this idea he had of the world and what it was. He was still very young when he learned that not all people saw the world as he did. Instead he did as he was asked, when he was asked, knowing that in the end his life had little bearing on matters of importance. His was the world of man, but at times he could feel the world of the gods. It was this ability, he believed, that allowed him to do his work so well.

      His memory was vague after all these years but he believed they were only a few days’ ride from the site of the moon fest. Something larger than memory led him. There was a feeling about this land he could not describe, a feeling that the true heart of the world was nearby. They should be seeing some signs of people and the strange wagons he remembered soon. He decided to stop and rest and dismounted to wait while Patrik prepared a meal of cheese and dried biscuits. He was a good man, one of the best in his command but he lacked imagination. He could not appreciate what his eyes did not see. But Patrik could ride into any town or army and by his quiet and friendly nature ride out again with more information than even those he spoke with knew they possessed. He was not tall though he could not be described as short, with a lean build and clean-shaven face. Most soldiers would not look at him twice, so ineffectual was his appearance, while most women would find him acceptable if no one else were available. But to Gerard, Patrik’s most appealing quality lay in knowing when to be silent and allow him to enjoy his world. “Sit a moment,” he offered when the food was ready.

      “What’s on your mind?” Patrik asked, as he found a place on a lonely rock.

      “We are not far from the site of the festival and when we are there we have important work to do. Everyone knows the people of Arravale abhor fighting and will run or die before they will pick up a sword. King Xavier wants us to make a deal to allow soldiers on their land but it will not be easy. We must do all we can to put them at ease. So, from this point on we will remove our swords and appear to ride unarmed.”

      “That’s fine by me. I would not expect one of the people of Arravale to cause us any trouble.” Patrik’s acceptance of his order took him a little by surprise. He had not expected the man to so quickly put aside his weapons.

      Gerard nodded at his man’s confidence but advised him there may be more to this meeting. “There may be more there than just the people of the grasslands.”

      “Do the people of the south come too?” he asked, curious at Gerard’s knowledge. “I can see it may be of interest to the dealers of Frith.”

      “Maybe, I don’t know that. But you may expect to see others there who are not human.” The look that came to Patrik was a mixture of confusion and surprise. Gerard explained. “It has been many years since I was at the moon fest but I remember other people who came to offer their protection of the fest. They were all armed and seemed very capable though I may have exaggerated being only a child. But I do remember them and I know who they were. King Xavier also knows who we may meet and he does not want trouble with them at this time though there are others in the kingdom who would have us attack these people immediately.”

      Patrik waited, but when Gerard did not go on he was forced to ask, “Who?”

      “The ones my mind remembers were elves.”

      ~

      The horses ambled up the long slow rise. Gerard rode with his eyes half closed while enjoying the calm that rested over his body. He was not tired. He was not restless. He was at peace with the world about him. They had spied wagons heading to the moon fest just dots in the distance but he knew they had been seen because the wagons turned away, keeping clear of the two strangers in their lands. At the same time, he knew they were being watched though they had seen no one.

      They crested the rise and Gerard reined his horse. The vale before him was awash with colour as if an artist had dropped his paints over the ground. The wagons he remembered from his father’s day were everywhere and just as his memory held them. Each seemed trying to outdo the next in the brightness of their display. They were strange things with their tiny windows, peaked roofs and chimneys. Some even had small railed platforms on the back with chairs for their owners to sit and take in the day. Horses wandered untethered picking at clumps of tough grass or just resting in the sun. Gerard’s stomach rumbled with the unrecognised flavours of the air as meals were prepared. Looking down on the gathering, Gerard thought he might enjoy living the life of an Arravelian.

      “We’ll walk from here,” he said as he dismounted. “It will give them time to see us and accept that we mean them no harm.”

      Before they were halfway down the hill a small crowd had gathered. Many more eyes watched from behind the open windows of this little city on wheels. Most of the people were as brightly dressed as the colours of their wagons which made the two elves stand out even more. Not only were they taller by a head than anyone else present but they were dressed in pure white flowing robes. One was hidden by a hood but the other had thrown the covering back to reveal a pale face framed by long white hair, as white as his robe. Both carried longbows strapped to their backs. When they were close enough to be easily heard Gerard called to them. “We come in peace. We bring greetings and good wishes from King Xavier of Arenia.”

      He told Patrik to stop as he waited for a response. The people of Arravale were suspicious, but welcoming. Gerard and Patrik were given food and water and although they were wary the people came to speak with them, wondering if they had anything to trade. As the evening settled over the temporary city a young boy stepped in front of Gerard to ask if they would care to join a couple by the names of Angele and Turka at their meal. The Lenk-Shadow thanked the boy and asked him to lead the way. They wove between wagons and around cooking fires, all the while following as close to a straight line as the boy could find through the maze of people.

      The day was losing its light as the sun fell into the sea of grass when the boy finally stopped. A pot hung on its iron tripod above a small fire while the unusual flavours of its contents drifted on the still air. Two people, a man and a woman, sat on wooden chairs watching. The woman leaned forward and stirred the meal with a long wooden spoon. Two elves waited motionless behind them and Gerard believed they must have been the pair he saw when they arrived. Both had their hoods lowered and the first appeared to be the face he remembered from then but so again did the other. He could not tell them apart. They were so alike they could have been born of the same seed in the same womb. They did not speak as they were introduced as Boyn-al and Sher-os but nodded and watched.

      Angele served up four bowls and together they sat and talked while they ate the hot stew. After spending days on horseback and having only dried rations this was food fit for a king. The spiciness tingled on his lips and bit at his throat but then the warmth of the herbs consumed his body, relaxing him. He was beginning to feel the world around him as he had never done before. Deep within himself, he was coming to understand that the people of Arravale knew and understood more of the world than anyone

Скачать книгу