Esrahaddon by Michael J. Sullivan

Author:Michael J. Sullivan [Sullivan, Michael J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy
ISBN: 9781943363599
Publisher: Riyria Enterprises, LLC
Published: 2023-08-14T22:00:00+00:00

“Are you certain you don’t want me to come along?” Marley asked as the wagon train prepared to set up camp on the bank of the West Bernum River. He had his thumbs hooked in his wide belt, which, like all else, was made of some animal hide. Sadarshakar, noticing the man’s skin was coarse and darkly weathered, considered the possibility that it might also be made of leather.

“I believe it would be more sensible for you to stay here and keep good order,” Sadarshakar said. “Master Orphe and I will spend the night elsewhere and return to you in the early morning. Please have things ready to move out by the time we get back.”

“O’ course, sir.” Marley always said the right things, but his tone never matched the words. Or perhaps it was the hint of a smile or the squint of his eyes that suggested the thinly masked hate. Sadarshakar recognized the signs that he had encountered that first day in Percepliquis when they tried to rent a litter to carry them to the palace. “Look, you little pixie, none of us are gonna carry your elven ass anywhere. Got it?” Sadarshakar hadn’t got it, not then, but after more than a decade of living in Percepliquis, the message finally arrived. Humans disliked Fhrey. This was a fact of life, he concluded, one he was able to live with. But in the last two years, he’d come to notice that the dislike had grown to hate, and he’d begun to fear for his safety. Now he saw it everywhere, even in the faces of those like Lucian Hargrave. The imperial councilor had never said a negative word in their presence, but Sadarshakar and Hanis never heard what was said in rooms where they weren’t.

“Good evening to you, then,” Marley said, touching the rim of his cap. “See you in the morning.”

Sadarshakar walked away from the infant encampment to where Hanis waited with their horses. He was brushing Blizzard with the round curry comb — one of five tools the groom had provided. “You should leave that to the groom. You’re likely doing it wrong. For example, I think it is proper to take the saddle off first.”

“I want to foster a better relationship with Old Snowstorm.”

“His name is Blizzard, and I don’t think he’s very old.”

“It’s a nickname.”

“You gave the animal a nickname? One that means the same as his actual name? That’s confusing even for me. Have you considered how bewildering it is for the animal? Isn’t it hard enough for them to grasp the concept of one name at all, much less two?”

Hanis scowled. “I’m just sprucing him up a bit. Don’t want this Fauyld to think we’re slobs.” He looked up. “Did you tell Marley we’re leaving?”

“Yes.”

“Did he seem disappointed he wouldn’t get the opportunity to murder us tonight?”

“Didn’t mention it to me, but we aren’t that close.”

Hanis put the brush into the side bag and hoisted himself up on Blizzard’s back. “Let’s go meet a legend.

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