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think about the possibility, and he refused to mention it to any of the
Morinans.
On the fifth morning after the first smoke clouds, the northern horizon came
alive with gleaming helmets. A final messenger rode in, with a letter from the
outlaw leader, Arno of the Mask. He was on his way south to Morina, with all
his men and all those he could gather up on the way. The Morinans should be of
good cheer, for his coming would surely bring them victory and good fortune.
Under other circumstances the arrogance of the message would have been
amusing. As it was, the only thing that made Serana cheerful was the idea of
chopping off Arno's head as soon as they'd finished with the Wolves. Blade let
her fume and swear. The angrier she got at the distant Arno, the less she'd be
thinking about treachery against Zemun Bossir.
Then the Wolves drew an iron circle around Morina, and for the city and
everybody in it, the rest of the world no longer existed.
It was the tenth night of the siege of Morina. Blade and Zemun Bossir were
walking along the walls.
Both walked bent forward, to keep their heads below the top of the improvised
wooden battlements.
The Wolves kept archers close up to the moat, and even at night they were
dangerously accurate.
It was another of those black Rentoran nights. Blade wondered if the Wolves
were going to take advantage of this darkness to make their long-awaited
assault on the city. They'd been building rams and scaling ladders ever since
they settled into their siege camp.
He walked on, occasionally stopping to glance across the tangled rooftops of
Morina toward the ducal palace. Its tall domed bell tower was the test
observation point in Morina. A small force of guards tricked by Count Drago
kept watch from the bell chamber. Duke Efrim apparently didn't mind having
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them up there.
Blade wondered if the duke could still be planning any treachery, if he would
let his own palace be used as an observation point. The men up there could not
only watch the city and the surrounding countryside, they could keep an eye on
the palace courtyards as well.
Two lanterns lit up the bell chamber. As Blade looked at the tower, he thought
he saw one of them start to flicker, as if blown by a strong wind. Suddenly it
went out, like a snuffed candle. A moment later the second lantern also went
out. Darkness swallowed the tower, but before it did Blade could have
sworn he saw a man-sized, man-shaped object plunge out into space from one of
the chamber windows.
That could have been his imagination. The lanterns were something else. They
couldn't have been blown out by the wind not when Blade could barely feel the
air stirring around him.
He turned and dashed back to Zemun Bossir. "Somebody's playing tricks in the
ducal palace. The lanterns are out in the bell chamber."
Zemun looked and nodded. "You think?"
"I'm not going to waste time thinking, and don't you do it either. Put all the
sentries on the alert and give them torches. Get the reserve archers awake and
have them ready to man the walls."
"You "
"I'm going to take the mounted guards and head for the palace. I'll pick up
the extra men I need on the way. Oh, load a dozen or so of our tar barrels
into a wagon. I'll want to take them with me."
"I "
"You'll stay here. If anything's happening at the palace, it may still be just
a diversion. There could be an attack planned on the walls, if we send
everybody off to the palace. So you'll stay here and take care of the walls."
Blade had forgotten he was addressing the heir-apparent of Morina and wouldn't
have cared if he'd remembered. He was almost sure something was badly wrong at
the palace. He was absolutely sure that if it was, minutes would be precious,
and wasting time in being polite a crime.
Fortunately Zemun was too good a soldier to worry about manners in an
emergency. He nodded. "I'll have them start loading the barrels at once, Lord
Blade." He looked down inside the wall and opened his mouth to shout to the
nearest man. Blade pulled him back and whispered fiercely in his ear.
"Don't shout yet. We don't want the whole city awake and in a panic. That
could be part of the
Wolves' plan."
If there was an enemy plan, thought Blade as he headed for the nearest stairs
to the ground. He still couldn't be sure whether he'd be saving Morina by
sounding the alert or just making a complete ass of himself. However, he could
survive looking foolish better than Morina could survive an attack by the
Wolves.
He went down the stairs two at a time, sprang on to his heuda's back without
touching the stirrups, and galloped off toward the quarters of the mounted
guards. Behind him he heard the rumble of barrels being rolled across the
cobblestones and the creaking as they were loaded into the wagon. The tar
barrels were intended to provide light on the walls, and also to be dropped on
Wolves. Tonight they might have other uses.
During the night, the mounted guards kept their heudas saddled and ready to
go. Half were always awake and the others slept in their armor with their
weapons close at hand. All Blade had to do was ride up, dismount, and call
softly into the guardroom. The guards came swarming out, the ones who'd been
sleeping only a little behind their comrades. All seventy-five were mounted in
a few minutes. Blade sent some off to alert more of Morina's defenders and led
the rest toward the palace.
The streets of Morina wound and twisted, and houses with high-peaked roofs
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crowded close on either side. Blade caught only rare glimpses of the bell
tower. The third time he saw it, the bell chamber was lit up again, more
brightly than before. He watched until the roofs once more cut off his view,
but saw nothing moving up there. He did see the ducal banner, now visible
around one corner of the tower. It
was hanging as limply as a wet handkerchief. No wind had blown out the
lanterns.
The clattering hooves of the mounted guards' heudas on the cobblestones
brought heads popping out of windows as they passed. Blade called out
reassurances.
"Stay in your houses, everybody, and keep your doors locked. Get your weapons
out if you have any, but leave things to the soldiers for the moment. We'll
warn you all the moment there's any danger."
At last they came out into a slightly broader street between high-walled
noblemen's houses. A
hundred feet farther on, the street led them into the square in front of the
ducal palace. Its walls rose thirty feet above the square, grim, ancient
blocks of dark stone. The gate itself looked like a small castle. The torches
burning on the gate towers, the sentries marching back and forth; helmeted
heads visible above the battlements, the lights in the palace buildings beyond
the wall everything was perfectly normal.
No, not everything. At the foot of the wall lay a sprawled body. It wore the
clothing of one of the palace guards, except for the helmet. The torches above
cast enough light for Blade to see a dark stain on the pavement under the
body.
Blade reined his heuda to a stop and as he did the bolt from a crossbow
whistled past his head. A
second threw up sparks from the pavement, and a third drilled his heuda
through the skull. Blade leaped clear as the dying animal toppled, landed on
hands and knees, and leaped to his feet shouting orders.
Battle was joined now, and there was no more reason to be quiet. Blade roared
out his orders in a voice that could be heard clear across the square. "Wolves
in the palace! The duke has betrayed us.
Mounted guards back, and block the street. Get the tar barrels into a line and
light them!"
His arms danced wildly. "You ride to Lord Zemun. Tell him to get the torches
lit and man the walls.
"You ride back to the men coming up behind us. Send them around to block all
the streets leading out from the palace. Have them use wagons, furniture,
barrels, tear up the cobblestones if they have to.
We've got to surround the palace and keep it surrounded!" [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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