Modesitt, L.E. - Spellsong Cycle 05 - Shadowsinger by Modesitt L.E

Author:Modesitt, L.E.
Language: eng
Format: epub

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Alcaren nodded.

You risk so much. Yet you risk more by doing nothing. Secca tried to push the thoughts from her mind. You can do nothing at this moment. Nothing.

Alcaren put his arm around her, silently, so lightly that she almost did not notice it at first, and they remained at the railing, looking westward, toward Stura.

75

South of Worlan, Neserea

Two Sea-Priests stand before the Maitre’s camp table, erect, their uniforms spotless, waiting, their heads almost touching the overhead fabric of the traveling tent. Outside the tent, the day is gray and chill.

The Maitre shifts his weight on the padded stool and looks up. “Where is she?"

“We do not know, Maitre,” offers the shorter man. “As we have told you, when we try to scry her image, we see but our own. By scrying the ships, we can see that she is upon a Ranuan vessel, but it is on the open ocean. Its heading appears to be westward. That would follow if she intends to travel to Neserea by sea.”

“The ship is too far from land to say where she is?”

“Yes, Maitre.”

“How many vessels?”

“Ten, Maitre.” This time the taller Sturinnese sorcerer replies. “Six are vessels she captured from us with sorcery last winter. We think. They have white hulls and our lines.”

“So she has embarked her entire force upon Ranuan vessels, and they head westward?” The Maitre frowns. “What of the fleet of Nordwei?"

“It nears the Ostisles,” replies the taller man. “The home defense fleet is prepared to give chase.”

“Is there any sign that they work together?”

“None, Maitre. It is possible, but there are no signs.”

“And the Assistant Sorceress Of Defalk?”

“She, too, is now warded. We do not know how long her wards have been there. We had not used the glass to find her in . . . some time. The wards, they are not like those we use.”

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“There is much the bitch sorceresses do that .is not as it should be,” the Maitre replies. “You may go. Keep watching, and let me know if you see such and when you can determine with certainty the destination of the Shadow Sorceress.” The dark-haired and sharp-featured Maitre gestures for the two to leave.

Once they have departed, his eyes fall to the maps spread across the camp table. “Wards that are not wards, or more than wards. Ships from all across Liedwahr, and the support of the Matriarch.

Between the Sorceress Protector and that bitch Ashtaar, we are spread too thin.” He shakes his head. “The shadowsinger . . . that one is too malicious---and too clever by half. Tearing her tongue out would be too kind. Far too kind.”

The panels of the tent flutter ever so slightly in the light and chill wind.

76

Spacious as the captain’s cabin had seemed, it was cramped with eight people crowded into it.

Cramped . . .and close. Secca, Alcaren,

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