Hand of Fire (Shandril's Saga) by Ed Greenwood

Author:Ed Greenwood [Greenwood, Ed]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780786961689
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast Publishing
Published: 2011-11-15T00:00:00+00:00

Thoadrin reined in and nodded to Laranthan to scout ahead, where their trail joined the Trade Way. Wordlessly his best warrior nodded, slipped from his saddle and handed his reins to Thoadrin.

In a few very quiet moments Laranthan was leading four men forward in the moonlight like eager shadows, down to where the rocks gave way to the countless wagon ruts.

Thoadrin drew his night-blade—daubed with dull brown stain to keep it from flashing any betraying reflection—laid it across his high saddlehorn, and smiled approvingly at Laranthan’s stealthy search. It had been a hard, sore ride from the Two Pools, but it had been worth it. They were well armed again and ahead of the spellfire wench, with time in hand to rest.

The Trade Way looked deserted, with nary a campfire in sight. Barring lurking beasts—and there were always lurking beasts; the trick was to know the deadly and ignore the rest—he’d have plenty of time to ready an attack.

Orthil Voldovan’s caravan should reach this spot as the sun was sinking low on the morrow. They’d be tired and in haste to reach Haelhollow, a good way north on up the road, to make camp.

Thoadrin smiled. There’d be no need for blades yet, only bows from amid the rocks. With so many bolts to loose, they could fire freely. Voldovan just might find himself in the Hollow with nary a guard left to fend off night-wolves.

And darkness was the favorite fighting-time of Laranthan and most of the other bold warriors of the Cult.

Ah, but the wolves were bad this year.

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