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like
Vashanka's own lightning in the long, dangerous pause.
Kadakithis flicked his purple mantle over his shoulder. He squinted past
Tempus,
into the waning day. 'What kind of cloud is that?'
Tempus swung around in his saddle, then back. 'That should be our friend
from
Ranke.'
The prince nodded. 'Before he arrives, then, let us discuss the matter of the
female prisoner Cime.'
Tempus's horse snorted and threw its head, dancing in place. 'There is
nothing
to discuss.'
'But... ? Why did you not come to me about it? I could have done
something,
previously. Now, I cannot...'
'I did not ask you. I am not asking you.' His voice was a blade on whetstone, so
that Kadakithis pulled himself up straight. 'It is not for me to take a hand.'
'Your own sister? You will not intervene?'
'Believe what you will, prince. I will not sift through gossip with any man, be
he prince or king.'
The prince lost hold, then, having been 'princed' too often back in Ranke,
and
berated the Hell Hound.
The man sat quite still upon the horse the prince had given him, garbed only
in
his loinguard though the day was fading, letting his gaze full of festering
shadows rest in the prince's until Kadakithis trailed off, saying, '... the
trouble with you is that anything they say about you could be true, so a man
knows not what to believe.'
'Believe in accordance with your heart,' the voice like grinding Stone
suggested, while the dark cloud came to hover over the beach.
It settled, seemingly, into the sand, and the horses shied back, necks
outstretched, nostrils huge. Tempus had his sorrel up alongside the
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chariot team and was leaning down to take the lead-horse's bridle when
an
earsplitting clarion came from the cloud's translucent centre.
The Hell Hound raised his head then, and Kadakithis saw him shiver, saw his
brow
arch, saw a flicker of deepset eyes within their caves of bone and lid. Then
again Tempus spoke to the chariot horses, who swivelled their ears towards
him
and took his counsel, and he let loose the lead-horse's bridle and spurred his
own between Kadakithis's chariot and what came out of the cinereous cloud
which
had been so long descending upon them in opposition to the prevailing wind.
The man on the horse who could be seen within the cloud waved: a flash of
scarlet glove, a swirl of burgundy cloak. Behind his tasselled steed he led
another, and it was this second grey horse who again challenged the other
stallions on the beach, its eyes full of fire. Farther back within the cloud,
stonework could be seen, masonry like none in Sanctuary, a sky more blue
and
hills more virile than any Kadakithis knew.
The first horse, reins flapping, was emerging, nose and neck casting
shadows
upon solid Sanctuary sand; then its hooves scattered grains, and the whole
of
the beast, and its rider, and the second horse he led on a long tether, stood
corporeal and motionless before the Hell Hound, while behind, the cloud
whirled
in upon itself and was gone with an audible 'pop'.
'Greetings, Riddler,' said the rider in burgundy and scarlet, as he doffed his
helmet with its blood-dark crest to Tempus. 'I did not expect you, Abarsis.
What
could be so urgent?'
'I heard about the Tros horse's death, so I thought to
bring you another, better auspiced, I hope. Since I was coming anyway, our
friends suggested I bring what you require. I have long wanted to meet you.'
Spurring his mount forward, he held out his hand. Red stallion and iron
grey
snaked arched necks, thrusting forth clacking teeth, wide-gaped jaws
emitting
squeals to go with flattened ears and rolling eyes. Above horse hostilities
could be heard snatches of low wordplay, parry and riposte: '...
disappointed
that you could not build the temple'.'... welcome to take my place here and
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try. The foundations of the temple grounds are defiled, the priest in charge
more corrupt than even politics warrants. I wash my hands ...''... with the
warring imminent, how can you ... ?'
'Theomachy is no longer my burden.'
'That cannot be so.'
'... hear about the insurrection, or take my leave!' [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]