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

Wilderness, and now their spirits guard the land. Also beasts prowl the
forests. I have talked to people from Droxy who claim to have heard the
howl of a fenthakrabi.тАЭ
тАЬWhat is that?тАЭ Dreibrand demanded while trying to process the new
word.
The captive smiled as if he already had his revenge upon the Atrophane.
тАЬLike I said, a beast.тАЭ
Dreibrand frowned. The man had to be making things up. He had
hoped to learn something concrete instead of exaggerated folk tales. For
months Dreibrand had been asking these questions as the Horde rolled
westward, but the answers only became more cryptic as he approached
the Wilderness.
Weary of the captive, Dreibrand ended the interrogation. As the
soldiers yanked him toward the door, the Bosta man cried, тАЬWhat about
my sister?тАЭ
Dreibrand pursed his lips in thought. The stricken suspense on the
captiveтАЩs face did have some sick appeal, but Dreibrand did not have a
rotten heart.
тАЬSet her free,тАЭ he ordered.
Instead of questioning more prisoners, Dreibrand retired to his tent. It
was night now, but he did not feel tired at all. Lying awake, he stared at
the light from the small oil lamp flickering on the red fabric. The light
pulsed and fluttered like shades at an unholy celebration. Around him
Dreibrand heard the noises of the Horde in repose. The mix of sounds
from the thousands of soldiers was the only thing that eased his loneliness
anymore. Sometimes he brought a female captive to his tent, if he fancied
one, but that had ceased to suit him and he had recently lapsed into a
strict solitude.
Thoughts of the Wilderness obsessed his mind, and he could almost feel
the great land beckoning him from over the hills.


2 Comfort in a StrangerтАЩs Kiss
Bosta refugees brought a new reality to the Droxy settlement. Isolated
on the fringe of civilization, the people of the settlement had not
concerned themselves with the conquests of the Atrophane Empire. Their
general opinion was that the Atrophane, who lived in palaces and built
monuments, could not possibly be interested in the crude farming
settlements carved out of the edge of the Wilderness.
But this assumption dissolved as weary beaten Bostas plodded toward
the Droxy fortress for the second day straight. The refugees passed
through the village of Wa Gira on their way and a panic had started. Many
villagers were filling carts and planning to abandon their cluster of
cottages and seek shelter in the Droxy fortress as well.
In front of a lowly shack at the end of the lane stood a young woman
clutching her infant son. The spring breeze blew through her curly light
brown hair, which gently brushed the head of her dark haired child. Her
green eyes were wide with fear and uncertainty.
She had spoken with many of the passing Bostas and their reports had
been terrifying. The young woman had no idea what to do. She had never