Mother of Lies by Dave Duncan

Author:Dave Duncan [Duncan, Dave]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2010-04-01T04:00:00+00:00

ORLAD CELEBRE

so distrusted the grumpy Pathfinder that he borrowed Namberson and Snerfrik back from Guthlag and set them to guarding Hermesk’s canoe. He did not doubt that canoes, like river boats, could launch themselves in the dark.

Far from objecting, the Pathfinder promptly put all three Heroes—and also Waels, who never left Orlad’s side—to work unloading his personal goods and moving them to safekeeping, then requisitioning and loading supplies needed for the journey. He agreed with them when they grumbled that common porters could do such labor, but pointed out that one ballast stone dropped through the canoe’s fragile bark skin would force time-consuming repair. Orlad was in a hurry, wasn’t he?

Yes, he was, and quite prepared to drag people off their sleeping mats and keep them working all night if necessary. At first light the wayfarers were ready to go. With luck they would steal a head start on Saltaja.

Having never experienced farewells, Orlad found the cold predawn parting much sadder than he had expected. The rivals he had defeated in the testing half a year ago had become his team, then his friends, and finally his battle-tested brother warriors. Several of them wept; he had to blink a lot. Benard openly sobbed, that amiable bear who had seemed such a puffball when they first met, yet had turned out to be a man of suicidal courage. How could long-lost brothers have become so close in so little time? Orlad even felt moved just watching the Ucrist taking leave of his foster daughter. The greedy little man would have to find consolation in his farms and houses and his sacks of gold. Fabia was still weeping when she stepped into the canoe. So was Dantio, steeped in the others’ emotions as well as his own.

The canoe was narrow enough for each paddler to work both sides, but not quite long enough for five people and the baggage. Hermesk repeatedly stressed how fragile it was. It must be lifted in and out of the water, he said, never allowed to touch the shore. Tipping it over in the wilds would result in them all freezing, drowning, or starving to death. He put himself in the bow, then Waels, Fabia in the middle—she promised to take a turn with the work if the men wanted her to—followed by Orlad, and finally Dantio in the stern because he had canoed before and could help with the steering.

By the time the sun was fully up, the tyros had stopped soaking everyone with every stroke and Orlad was confident he would enjoy the next few days. Paddling was pleasant exercise. The Milky ran lovat green under the trees and ultramarine under the sky. Strings of noisy birds flew seaward, to lands where the winter would be warmer, if no shorter.

By the time the sun cleared the peak of Mount Varakats he was starting to consider blisters, the uncomfortable bundle he was sitting on, and how cramped his legs were getting—not to mention what a whole day of this was going to do to his arms and shoulders.

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