"Tracy Falbe - The Rys Chronicles 1 - Union of Renegades" - читать интересную книгу автора (Falbe Tracy)

as he wiped away the filth of battle. Nearby a soldier plunged a spear into
a wounded Bosta. Seeing his oncoming death, the Bosta had pleaded for
mercy. Dreibrand had come to know the word for mercy in the western
tongues.
After confirming that all was well, Dreibrand returned to the riverbank
to wait for Lord Kwan to arrive. The Lord General would be pleased with
him and the Bostas would soon be conquered.
The next day the fortress of the Bostas was captured and the local lord
beheaded. Sometimes the Atrophane maintained local leaders, but here on
the frontier, no regime was significant enough to employ.
Dreibrand had not even noticed the name of the town around this Bosta
fortress, and he did not care. Compared to the mighty city-states of the
east and the rich trading cities of the delta, these back country settlements
hardly mattered. The Atrophane had easily crushed the rudimentary
facade of civilization that the Bostas considered a fortress. The rams had
shattered the gates, and the stone walls had been too low to even challenge
the siege towers and ladders.
Enjoying the afternoon sunshine, Dreibrand sat on a campstool and
precisely shaved himself while his squire held a small mirror for him.
Dreibrand had a serious face with a heavy brow, and his bright blue eyes
advertised his intelligence. He had straight sandy hair that fell almost to
his shoulders, as was the fashion for Atrophane men.
The squire handed Dreibrand a towel and then dutifully cleaned and
put away the razor. After buttoning his shirt, Dreibrand pulled on his
quilted silk jacket that padded him beneath his armor. Lord Kwan would
be expecting a report soon, and he needed to get himself presentable.
Seeing that his master was ready, the squire grabbed the chestplate of
armor. Dreibrand stood up while his servant buckled the armor in place.
Like any squire, the youth was from a lower class and seeking access to
higher circles by serving important people. This squire always did a good
job, and Dreibrand found it unfortunate that his reference would probably
hinder the young man more than it would help him.
Maybe in his class his name is mud just like mine, Dreibrand mused.
тАЬSir, when will we ever go back to Atrophane? I have never felt so far
away from anything,тАЭ the squire complained and rolled his eyes at the
hopelessly rural surroundings.
тАЬThe adventure of riding with the Horde should not allow for
homesickness,тАЭ Dreibrand scolded with good nature.
тАЬI think the adventure is over, Sir,тАЭ the squire said. The squeal of a pig
being butchered somewhere in the encampment marked his point.
Dreibrand looked around the sprawl of the army in repose. The red
fabric tents of the Lord General and his officers had been put up, and the
weathered tan tents of the common soldiers encircled the ruined town.
Many soldiers were getting their first bit of rest since entering Bosta
territory, and they reclined by campfires. Other men organized the
plunder of the Bostas. Although not as exciting as gold and jewels, the
foodstuffs, and leather goods, and furs were satisfying and valuable. The
soldiers had also divvied any stores of wine and beer that had been
discovered, but they would not last long among so many. Captives were
being sorted and held inside the remains of the stone fortress. Those that