Ironcrown Moon by Julian May

Author:Julian May [May, Julian]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2012-01-06T22:09:10.640000+00:00

They thundered down the steep road from ElktorCastle and galloped apace for the Shore Road

and the Mountain Gate: six of the count’s most intrepid household knights and four times that number of men-at-arms, heedless of the misty drizzle that enveloped the countryside, intent upon apprehending at least one of the Sovereignty’s most wanted criminals. Snudge led the troop, with Vra-Mattis riding at his side. He had deemed the other members of his party too inexperienced to accompany him, and had left them behind in the castle, sound asleep and heedless of the climactic events now unfolding.

Persuading his eager host, Lord Olvan, to lead the hunt for Kilian rather than the more exciting apprehension of Scarth Saltbeck had been a touchy matter. Although the young nobleman was brave, generous, and of a cheerful disposition, Ollie Elktor’s character disastrously combined rash impetuosity with a truly monumental fatheadedness. His people loved him in spite of his flaws and were inclined to overlook his errors of judgment; and happily, these had become less egregious since the viscount’s redoubtable father, Earl Marshal Parlian Beorbrook, had installed a handpicked steward to manage the castle household and an iron-willed constable to maintain discipline among its knights and warriors.

Lord Olvan yearned with all his heart to go after the notorious villain who had fired Gala Palace; but in the end, even a valiant dullard such as he understood the reasons why Sir Deveron Austrey sent him in the opposite direction. Chasing a fugitive over the eastern moorlands presented no special tactical difficulties to a newcomer to the region, provided he had local men riding with him. Roaring Gorge, on the other hand, was hazardous territory where specialized knowledge was vital to survival. Lord Olvan had actually ventured into the dreadful, haunted place a few times, if only for short distances. Sir Deveron knew nothing about the gorge, and confessed to being inexperienced in mountain travel to boot.

So Ollie manfully conceded the point. While Deveron and his men raced off on their lightning foray, the count assembled a larger force that was equipped for a long haul, and rode out at a more prudent pace an hour later. By then, Snudge was more than halfway to the croft where Scarth Saltbeck lay in a state of sodden insensibility.

The truth was that the intelligencer had a stronger reason for not wanting Olvan—much less any of his sharper-minded lieutenants—witnessing the arrest of Scarth. He intended that none of the Elktor people should ever know about the Trove of Darasilo, much less what he planned to do with the trove if he found it.

Before leaving the castle, he had begged its master mason to lend him a certain tool, saying vaguely that the thing might help in extracting the criminal from his hiding place. But if the opportunity arose, Snudge planned an entirely different use for the sledgehammer wrapped in sacking, which was now lashed to the back of his saddle.

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