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

Swan walked. He would remember that remark. He was determined to have the last word. "Bullshit, Smoke. That's bullshit. I seen a new side of you today. I don't like it and I don't trust it. I'm going to watch you like your conscience."

They mounted up and headed north.



Chapter Three



In those days the Company was in service to the Prahbrindrah Drah of Taglios. That prince was too easygoing to master a numerous, factious people like the Taglians. But his natural optimism and forgiving nature were offset by his sister, the Radisha Drah. A small, dark, hard woman, the Radisha had a will of sword steel and the conscience of a hurtling stone.

While the Black Company and the Shadowmasters contested possession of Dejagore, or Stormgard, the Prahbrindrah Drah held an audience three hundred miles to the north.

The prince stood five and a half feet tall. Though dark, his features were caucasic. He glowered at the priests and engineers before him. He wanted to throw them out. But in godridden Taglios no one offended the priesthoods.

He spied his sister signalling from the shadowed rear of the chamber. "Excuse me." He walked out. Bad manners they would tolerate. He joined the Radisha. "What is it?"

"Not here."

"Bad news?"

"Not now." The Radisha strode off. "Majarindi looked unhappy."

"He got his hand caught in a monkey trap. He insisted we build a wall because Shaza has been having holy visions. But once the others demanded a share he sang a different song. I asked if Shaza had begun having unvisions. He wasn't amused."

"Good."

The Radisha led her brother through tortuous passages. The palace was ancient. Additions were cobbled on during every reign. No one knew the labyrinth whole except Smoke.

The Radisha went to one of the wizard's secret places, a room sheltered from eavesdroppers by the old man's finest spells. The Prahbrindrah Drah shut the door. "Well?"

"A pigeon brought a message. From Smoke."

"Bad news?"

"Our mercenaries have been defeated at Stormgard." The Shadowmasters called Dejagore Stormgard.

"Badly?"

"Is there any other . . . ?"

"Yes." Before the appearance of the Shadowmasters Taglios had been a pacifist state. But when that danger first beckoned the Prahbrindrah had exhumed the ancient strategikons. "Were they annihilated? Routed? How badly did they hurt the Shadowmasters? Is Taglios in danger?"

"They shouldn't have crossed the Main."

"They had to harry the survivors from Ghoja ford. They're the professionals, Sis. We said we wouldn't secondguess or interfere. We didn't believe they could win at Ghoja, so we're way ahead. Give me details."

"A pigeon isn't a condor." The Radisha made a face. "They marched down with a mob of liberated slaves, took Dejagore by stealth, destroyed Stormshadow and wounded Shadowspinner. But today Moonshadow appeared with a fresh army. Casualties were heavy on both sides. Moonshadow may have been killed. But we lost. Some of the troops retreated into the city. The rest scattered. Most of the mercenaries, including the captain and his woman, were killed."