Hot Obsidian. Olga McArrowЧитать онлайн книгу.
Hasse shook his head. “I thought you were Urhan’s son.”
“I am. Urhan saved my life, nursed me back to health, adopted me, taught me his trade… he is the only father I’ve ever known.”
“Yes, yes, of course. It’s not what I meant,” Hasse apologised. “I just thought I knew you, old friend.”
“I, too, thought I knew myself. I thought I had buried my past for good. But those boys made me remember. Not that it matters now. Even if I weren’t a cripple, I wouldn’t be able to avenge my master. I have no idea who was after him. I was too young to be trusted with any secrets. So… so it just hurts.”
They rode in silence for a while. The sides of the road, overgrown with young willows being played with by the wind, were a mass of restless green and dancing sunlight patches. Marin kept looking at the turn the young Lifekeepers had taken. He still couldn’t let it go.
“What was your master’s name?” asked Hasse.
“Gerdon Lorian.” Marin smiled and turned to his friend. “He died on that very road those boys chose. This is why I never go directly to Tammar. Too many memories.”
***
The road to Tammar is overshadowed by a massive natural wall striped with multicoloured layers of shale and limestone that make it look like a giant piece of cake, the “cake” being a steep hill that had been cut through to make space for the road. Only its western half survived to this day. Covered with silky grass and dotted with bright ramniru flowers, it was still a sight to see. Travellers following the road in summer always found a free meal ready, for ramniru flowers are as sweet as raspberries.
Across the road from the striped wall, there was a young birch grove growing on the ashes of a forest where Gerdon Lorian had been ambushed. The young Lifekeepers were riding through one of their Order’s important historic sites but they were completely unaware of that. To them, it was just a place that looked unsafe for many reasons.
Orion set his charga to a run and quickly caught up with Juel.
“Do you think we’ll be attacked?” he asked.
“No.” Juel shook his head. “As I told that merchant, we’re not easy prey. Even if you don’t count children, we have three adult warriors and ten chargas. Attacking us would be too costly for any gang and we carry nothing valuable enough to cover the costs. I say we’re safe.”
“Heh…” Orion looked around, nervous. “I don’t like this place. There is something dodgy about it. I can’t explain it, I just feel it with my gut… I suggest we speed up, maybe tell the chargas to run all the way to Tammar.”
Surprisingly, Juel agreed. He might have had a similar feeling about the place or just wanted to shorten the journey. Anyway, he commanded the team to speed up a little. Orion thanked him and returned to his place, in the tail of their caravan, next to Jarmin.
“I told Juel about your forebodings,” said Orion to the boy. “I had to tell him they were mine, though, so he would listen.”
“Don’t you feel anything?” exclaimed Jarmin, anger and disappointment ringing in his thin voice.
Orion shook his head. Seeing reproach in Orion’s eyes, Jarmin sighed, his shoulders drooped. He leaned against his charga’s furry neck and scratched the big kitten behind the ears. Orion left the child to his brooding, thinking that little Jarmin needed to grow up a bit. Learning that other people are not obliged to feel what he feels and think what he thinks might be the first step on this way.
Pai had been in a gloomy mood since the morning, so Milian had no one to chat with that day. He rode beside his mage friend in thoughtful silence and killed time by daydreaming, recalling the Kuldaganian book he had bought in Aldaren-Turin, and looking around. He had a good memory but, still, comparing the copy of the No Man’s Land map he had in his mind with the landscape they were slowly moving through was not as easy as he thought it would be: the world was just so big!
According to Sainar, they were to look for the obsidian somewhere close to Tammar, in the woods on the border of the Burnt Region. According to the map, they had a thin, winding road in front of them and zero chance of reaching the city before dark. Camping was unavoidable. It’s not that Milian hated camping – he had got used to it, actually – but, unlike Bala and Juel who had been travelling a lot with their masters, he still preferred a bed to a bedroll, a fireplace to a bonfire, and a house with walls and roofs to a flimsy tent. The only thing about their current journey that Milian liked was chargas. The idea of using one as a pillow at night seemed both cute and hilarious, the chargas’ ability to protect their riders was reassuring…
Kangassk Marini, Milian’s master, used to berate her apprentice’s lack of focus quite often. She’d do that now as well, no doubt, for her boy was the last to hear the alarming sounds from the other side of the hill.
“Sounds like a swordfight!” said Bala; he was the first to notice them.
“Yeah, it is,” confirmed Juel. “Lots of swords are involved, too…”
Orion moved to the head of the caravan and squinted his eyes, listening. Jarmin’s foreboding turned out to be true, after all: there were bandits nearby all right. Maybe they even watched the team from the hilltop. Only they weren’t after the Lifekeepers; they choose a different prey…
A reckless, fiery feeling filled Orion’s heart to the brim. ph, Lar would be so angry with him if he knew.
“I’ll help them!” said Orion Jovib in a tone that allowed no arguments, and ordered his charga to run.
“Get back, you fool!” yelled Juel but Orion didn’t listen; his figure grew smaller and smaller with every passing moment.
Juel uttered the foulest Faizulish curse he knew, spat to the ground, and turned to the team, “Irin, Bala, follow me! Lainuver, stay with the kids!”
Far away, in clouds of dust raised from the road by dozens of feet, under the crowns of slender birches, amidst the lazy symphony of distant bird singing, a battle was raging. It could be barely seen from where the younger part of the Lifekeeper team stood. The kids tried to distinguish their elder teammates in the dusty crowd but that was easier said than done.
Lainuver, the only adult among the frightened children, seemed so tall and so serious now. He did his best to look confident, too, even though he didn’t feel even remotely like that. To him, a shadow master, forests were alien territory full of unknown dangers he was not trained to handle.
He felt even worse when he glimpsed dark silhouettes moving among the trees. The creatures ran on all fours but didn’t resemble dogs of wolves. Soon, everyone saw why. As the first creature jumped out of the undergrowth and met Lainuver’s blade, their nature and origin became as clear as day. The animals were tamed shlaks – ugly, massive brutes that looked like a weird mix between a wild boar and a dog. Armed with sabre-teeth instead of tusks, heavy in their front part of the body, they flew forward like bricks. The shlaks’ masters followed their animals soon. They looked relaxed, even careless, so sure they were in their victory. For real: who were they to be afraid of? Chargas? Shlaks would deal with them. Kids? Pfft! They’re good enough warriors to deal with kids. Aren’t they?
Chargas growled and formed a line in front of the young Lifekeepers…
…Orion jumped into the battle with very little idea about the side he would be on. But everything became clear to him as soon as he saw the tamed shlaks: the bandits were Shlakers aka the cheapest professional assassins in the No Man’s Land. They are not very subtle in their ways but are brutally effective. Someone must really have wanted their current victims dead…
Now, once Orion knew which side he was on, he spent no more time pondering the situation and announced his appearance by cutting off two Shlakers’ heads with one stroke. Following his lead, Irin started sending arrows into the crowd, picking out the assassins with deadly precision.
“Oh, Jovib… you brainless