Crown Of The Isles 01 The Fortress Of Glass by David Drake

Author:David Drake [Drake, David]
Format: epub
Published: 2010-05-02T06:47:20.365000+00:00

Chapter 11

Torag's keep loomed like a gray lump out of the green/gray/black marsh. The sun had been up for two hours and it wasn't raining. Garric grinned. In this land it passed for a bright morning. He'd wanted to arrive promptly at dawn to have the full day for their business with the Coerli, though. "I hope we've got enough time to finish the job in daylight," he said to Metz as they came out of a grove of trees whose foliage dangled like sheets of moss from the spreading branches. "If we don't, we'll none of us survive the night to come. Torag isn't much of a general, but even he's smart enough to know that he has to kill any Grass People who've learned to fight before the danger spreads." "The Coerli kill without being smart," Metz said in a distant tone. "They only have to think if they don't intend to kill." He looked at the sky. "There's enough time," he said. "If we can do it at all." Every adult in the village was with them. Everybody whom Garric'd judged was capable of making a seven mile march, that is. There were about fifty in all, as many women as men. They were burdened with bundles of brush, every fishing net in the community, and the rolled-up wall of a house. Unrolled, the wicker mat would let them cross the bog surrounding Torag's keep without sinking knee-deep at every step. Then the hard part would begin. The Corl in the watchtower finally saw them and blew a warning on his trumpet. After a moment he blew twice more, nervous blats of sound that were as much fright at the unexpected as an attempt to rouse his fellows. "With the cat-beasts," King Carus said, "now is better than right at dawn." The ghost's voice was calm and analytical, but underneath it was the leaping delight of a warrior about to enter battle. He went on, "Their own folk wouldn't attack in daylight, and till now there's nobody else in their minds who might. The guard wasn't alert, and the rest of the animals have had time to go to sleep." "All right, everybody!" Garric called. He raised his voice by reflex, though he knew the Bird would project his words to the villagers at heightened volume regardless. "Keep close to each other but not so tight you can't move. Be ready to raise the nets when I say so. Just keep marching on. And remember--this world is for humans!" He'd hoped for a ringing cheer in response, but apparently that wasn't part of the political process among the Grass People. He grinned wryly. At least they didn't freeze in panic where they stood. That might've happened if they'd been a little more sophisticated and thus knew what they were getting into. "Metz?" Garric said as he and the scarred hunter strugged through the belt of furze bushes around the bog. Coerli raiders had passed back and forth

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