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A Dragon's Ascension - Ed Greenwood [23]

By Root 1279 0
didn't bother to lower his spear or helm when the next arrivals into Sart came onto the bridge. The foremost man was dirty and wild-eyed, his clothes torn and his mouth ababble with strange phrases, nonsense words, and half-sung snatches of rhyme. Leather straps encircled his forehead, each arm in three places, his thighs and ankles, and were also clipped to a stout belt. The other ends of those straps were held by two guards who looked as weary as Kuldin felt. They trudged along behind their captive-and each of them held a loaded hand crossbow-what was called a dart gun in Carraglas-ready in his free hand.

" DIV the in nearest to for at his potions.?"Rich madman," the other guard commented, "or you'd not catch me out walking a man like a dog in this heat."

"Aye to that! Kuldin agreed, his feelings heartfelt. He waved them on into Sart-and so it was that his arm was still raised and his mind abrim with friendly thoughts as the guards turned in unison and fired their crossbows.

One dart found a home deep in Kuldin's nose, but the other went right through one of his eyes. The madman had already whirled to spring at the guard, a dagger flashing in his hand.

Kuldin toppled back against the bridge rail, sagged, and half rolled along it. The dagger rose and fell, and then an enthusiastic hand went under the guard's knee and heaved. The bridge guard pitched up and over the rail, finding coolness at last, with a splash.

The madman turned to the two warriors who'd been shepherding him and held up Kuldin's signal horn with a grin. "Got it!" he announced, and then turned and ran back down the road whence they'd come.

The two guards exchanged glances as they sought cover on either side of the road, on the Sart bank of the bridge.

"Enjoys this just a bit much, doesn't he?" one of them muttered, readying another dart for his bow. "I sometimes think he is a little mad."

"Ah, actors are all like that," the other replied, ducking behind a wyvernthorn. "He's just crazed at the thought of earning some coin for a change."

"We're not supposed to kill him until everyone's across the bridge, right?" The words came from behind a suddenly trembling sroanberry bush. "You don't suppose we could hasten the process just a trifle?"

"Bend a direct order from Bloodblade? Not dragon-dung likely! Looking for an early grave yourself, perhaps?"

"All right, all right!" the sroanberry bush said sourly. " 'Twas just an idle thought."

"It's best if loyal warriors refrain from having 'idle thoughts,' " a new voice said flatly, from very close at hand.

There was a moment of frozen silence, and then one of the bushes asked hesitantly, "L-Lord Bloodblade?"

"Of course. Point those bows at the ground or die."

"Yes, Lord!" two voices agreed hastily, as the thud of hooves and the creak of saddle leather grew steadily louder along the road. Around the bend whence the herb cart and the escorted madman had come, out of the trees of Sirl Forest (no one used the name on the new maps; "Bright Forest" just seemed wrong for a place so dark, thorny, and tangled, somehow), came a knot of mounted armaragors… followed by several dozen crossbowmen, a long column of spearmen, and more mounted knights. At the head of this host rode a tall man in magnificent fluted armor, astride a taller horse in full barding.

"But-who-" the sroanberry bush said in confusion.

"A false-me, of course, in case any of Sart's defenders are seized by bravery or desperation, and decide that a headless army is a beaten one," Bloodblade said coldly. "I didn't order you not to think, Lornelth, I suggested that my most loyal warriors refrain from idle thoughts when in battle."

"Y-you know my name?" The bowman, until recently the youngest and least-regarded of Glarond's house guard, was dumbfounded.

"Of course. A baron who knows not his sworn men? That man would be an idiot."

Across the road, the wyvernthorn chuckled uneasily-and then the tramping and hoof falls and dust passed between the two bushes, ending all easy converse, as the forces of Sendrith Duthjack, Baron of Glarond and better known

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