Runestone of Eresu by Murphy Shirley Rousseau

Author:Murphy, Shirley Rousseau
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, wolves, sorcery, fantasy adventure, winged horses, seers, runestone, fantasy worlds
Publisher: Ad Stellae Books

SEVEN

By morning, fresh Zandourian soldiers had arrived, and two heavily armed battalions of Aybilian soldiers as well, joining Hermeth on good horses, as eager to destroy the rabble raiders as was the Zandourian band. Ram, mounted on a fast Zandourian stallion, carried the runestone now. He felt out into the hills of Aybil with strengthened senses and spotted five bands hidden. Hermeth sent silent riders, with wolves among them like shadows to track the hidden killers, while his main army moved on through Aybil’s valleys, toward Farr. The river Owdneet would be on their left soon, for they were headed toward a point just south of the Farrian city of Dal. There were scattered groups of raiders in Farr, and Hermeth meant to destroy them all before he rode on Pelli.

For three days they fought skirmishes down across Aybil, the wolves and scouts routing out raiders’ camps, killing so many that the rabble fought back with waning spirit, fought fearfully, then at last turned tail and fled before Hermeth’s raging troops. Hermeth’s men grinned with bloodstained faces, tired and hungry and not caring, preferring to fight, for victory lay close at hand.

But if men can forget rest in the rising tide of winning, horses cannot. At last, as Hermeth’s troops crossed into Farr somewhat south of Dal, Hermeth knew they must halt, at least by midday, and rest the mounts and care for them.

There lay close ahead a thick wood that would give them cover. Hermeth headed for it, but Ram stopped him, uneasy. He sat his tired horse, trying to sort out the unease he felt, then at last chose scouts among the wolves and called a dozen troops to ride with them.

But all returned from the wood, after a thorough search, with nothing to report. It is quiet there, Ramad, said the gray wolf who had led them. There is nothing to fear. And yet . . .

“And yet, Gartthed? What is it?”

I don’t know. Perhaps nothing. It is peaceful there— perhaps too peaceful. There is a tower there, a dark, ruined tower ages old. It is too peaceful around that tower, too quiet. But perhaps—perhaps I imagine things. There is nothing to alarm, nothing one can sense or see. It smells only of moss and painon bark and woods things. An old, old wood it is, the trees huge and bent.

*

In the wood, the whore-bred Seers stood huddled together in a circle beneath those huge trees, hands joined and fingers linked in a ritual of Pellian cunning as they conjured a mindfog, a false peace and emptiness that hid them all and hid their mounted warriors from Hermeth’s Seer-scouts and from the accursed wolves. They had not planned on wolves. Where in Urdd had wolves come from? Near them among the trees, their Farrian and Pellian troops mounted on heavy horses stood silent and invisible by the power of that mind-twisting, heavily armed troops waiting for Hermeth’s army. And if the whore-bred Seers felt a power other

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