"Cook, Glen - Dreams of Steel" - читать интересную книгу автора (Cook Glen)

Narayan grinned. "You see? An ox. Come. Ram, carry her armor."

Two hours later we found twenty-three fugitives on a hilltop. They were beaten men, apathetic, so down they didn't care if they got away. Few still had their weapons. I didn't recognize any of them. Not surprising. We'd gone into battle with forty thousand.

They knew me. Their manners and attitude improved instantly. It pleased me to see hope blossom among them. They rose and lowered their heads respectfully.

I could see the city and plain from that hilltop. The Shadowmasters' troops were leaving the hills, evidently recalled. Good. We'd have a little time before they picked it up again.

I looked at the men more closely.

They had accepted me already. Good again.

Narayan had begun speaking to them individually. Some seemed frightened of him. Why? What was it? Something was odd about that little man.

"Ram, build us a fire. I want a lot of smoke."

He grunted, drafted four men, headed downhill to collect firewood.

Narayan trotted over, grinning that grin, followed by a man of amazing width. Most Taglians are lean to the point of emaciation. This one had no fat on him. He was built like a bear. "This is Sindhu, Mistress, that I know by reputation." Sindhu bowed slightly. He looked a humorless sort. Narayan added, "He'll be a good man to help out."

I noted a red cloth triangle at Sindhu's waist. He was Gunni. "Your help will be appreciated, Sindhu. You two get this bunch sorted out. See what resources we have."

Narayan grinned, made a small bow, hustled off with his new friend.

I settled crosslegged, separate from the rest, faced the city, closed out the world. The Golden Hammer had come easily. I'd try again.

I opened to what little talent I retained. A peppercorn of fire formed in the bowl of my hands. It was coming back.

There is no way to express my pleasure.

I concentrated on horses.

Half an hour later a giant black stallion appeared, trotted straight to me. The men were impressed.

I was impressed. I hadn't expected success. And that beast was only the first of four to respond. By the time the fourth arrived so had another hundred men. The hilltop was crowded.

I assembled them. "We've lost a battle, men. Some of you have lost heart, too. That's understandable. You weren't raised in a warrior tradition. But this war hasn't been lost. And it won't end while one Shadowmaster lives. If you don't have the stomach to stick it out, stay away from me. You'd better go now. I won't let you go later."

They exchanged worried glances but nobody volunteered to travel alone.

"We're going to head north. We'll gather food, weapons, and men. We'll train. We're coming back someday. When we do, the Shadowmasters will think the gates of hell have opened." Still nobody deserted. "We march at first light tomorrow. If you're with me then, you're with me forever." I tried to project a certainty that we could terrify the world.

When I settled for the night Ram posted himself nearby, my bodyguard whether or not I wanted one.

I drifted off wondering what had become of four black stallions that had not responded. We had brought eight south. They had been specially bred in the early days of the empire I had abandoned. One could be more valuable than a hundred men.

I listened to whispers, heard repeats of the terms Narayan had used. They troubled most of the men.

I noticed that Ram had his bit of folded cloth, too. His was saffron. He didn't keep it as fastidiously as did Narayan or Sindhu. Three men from two religions, each with a colored cloth. What was the significance?