The Starfollowers of Coramonde Read Online Free

are in our northernmost regions;
Freegate is beset by raids and depredations; the Mariners have suffered the
worst defeat in their history. Combat flares too, I am told, away in Veganá, at
the southern tip of the Crescent Lands, but of that we ken little.”
    Katya said,
“If you are leading to war against Salamá, it would be no easy undertaking. And
will not our enemies consume our lands in our absence?”
    “That is
precisely why these attacks occur, I should say,” Andre stated, “and why we
must plan to send our vengeance south. Do you take it that Salamá simply wants
new territory, or a few more subjects? I do not. They contrive to make it
dangerous for us to prosecute war against them, for one motive. They need
time. They have some design of their own, that brooks no interference. They
give us our own preoccupations, so our alliance is pulled into fragments. Thus,
they insure an uninterrupted span for themselves.”
    Katya
inquired, “To what end?”
    “I cannot
divine its nature yet,” the wizard shot back, “but something is taking shape in
that dire city, of more peril than all these other incursions. The Masters
decreed this screen, hiding larger danger in the south; in Shardishku-Salamá.”
    “The people
of Coramonde—those who still support me—will want more proof than that,”
Springbuck said dubiously.
    Andre
responded carefully. “It is my hope and belief that they shall have
confirmation, plain and unmistakable, in the correct moment. Other forces are
in conflict here besides mere nations.”
    Reacher, head
hung in thought, made up his mind. “Andre deCourteney is the font of wisdom in
opposing Bey and his Masters. Let us plan in concert our response to the strife
he promises.”
    “Tomorrow,”
Springbuck concurred, “we begin.” He grinned. “And there is one more
pronouncement. In times as precarious as these, it has been the custom of the Ku-Mor-Mai to select a Warlord, for first officer in all matters military, I advance
Hightower as Warlord over Coramonde, his authority issuing directly from my
own.”
    The old man
sputtered thanks. “Honeyed words are not my aptitude. My gratitude I will
evince by service.” He reddened at their applause.
    The session
ended. Gil avoided talking to the Ku-Mor-Mai, sore at himself for time
wasted looking for Bey. That his temper had become so fragile worried him; he
didn’t want to discuss errors.
    Ferrian of
the Horseblooded stopped him in the corridor. The burly, one-time
Champion-at-arms had made a remarkable recovery from the wound, suffered in the
fight for the throne room, that had cost him his right arm. He was more
inward-turning now. He beckoned Gil aside and pointed to where Captain Brodur
took notes from Springbuck’s instructions.
    “Do you know
him?”
    “Uh, he’s the
guy who used to be one of—” Her name came with difficulty, even now. “One of
Duskwind’s agents, right? Tried to help her save Springbuck, back when Bey was
going to have him killed?”
    “Aye, and
knows the palace-fortress and the city, and can tell you who reported to Bey,
and carried out his commands. You are so intent on locating the sorcerer that
I’d wondered if you shouldn’t speak to him.”
    Gil checked
the idea over, scratching the dark smear of powderburn on his cheek
absentmindedly. “Good thinking. Not here though; Springbuck’s already had
enough of my Bey-hunt.”
    “Brodur
drills at the fields every morning, at about the sixth hour. That would,
perhaps, be the place.”
    “Got it.” He
yawned, jaw cracking. Things were moving again; maybe he could sleep. “I’m
headed back for the rack. See you tomorrow.”
    He’d taken
less than four steps when a hulking form blocked his way, hissing loudly. The
thing, nearly seven feet tall, was reptilian, covered with a thick,
green-scaled hide. Knifelike fangs curved from its jaws, and its heavy tail was
encased in caudal armor of spikes and sharp-edged flanges. At its back was
slung a greatsword