Shadowbred by Kemp Paul S

Author:Kemp, Paul S. [Kemp, Paul S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780786940776
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast
Published: 2006-11-07T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

1 Uktar, the Year of Lightning Storms

Cale awoke in his chamber before dawn. He had not dreamed of Magadon since arriving in Selgaunt and did not know what to make of it. Mask’s words haunted him: Magadon will suffer in the meanwhile.

Cale dressed and met Tamlin a bit after dawn in the main hall. They exchanged pleasantries and walked side by side across the grounds to the stables. Tamlin wore his father’s ermine-trimmed traveling cloak with a rapier, but no armor or shield. Cale recalled that armor interfered with Tamlin’s ability to cast spells. A satchel with two thick, leather-bound tomes hung over his shoulder.

Books on spellcraft, Cale assumed with some surprise, since he had never known Tamlin to favor reading. Tamlin had become a moderately accomplished sorcerer over the years. If only his leadership and talent for statesmanship had matured as much as his magical ability.

“Your mount will regret your choice of reading material, my lord,” said Cale.

Tamlin smiled tightly. “Just something of interest to me.”

For his part, Cale wore his enchanted leather armor, his daggers, and Weaveshear. Pouches at his belt held his lockpicking kit and his coin purse. His pack held his bedroll, rope, and the magical tome he had taken from the Fane of Shadows. He carried the Shadowlord’s mask in his pocket.

“I received word late last night that Mother and Tazi arrived safely at Storl Oak,” Tamlin said. “I understand that was your suggestion?”

Cale nodded. “Were they escorted, my lord?”

“Of course,” Tamlin snapped, an edge in his voice. “I am not a fool, Mister Cale, despite your suggestion to the contrary. Eight members of the house guard rode wirh them, including Captain Orrin. Five more men plus Talbot await them at Storl Oak.”

Cale nodded and said nothing more. They walked the rest of the way to the stables in silence.

The grooms had saddled twelve geldings, all of them stout steeds thirteen hands or more in height. Thtee pack horses loaded with gear stood with their heads lowered. Ren and nine other members of the Uskevren house guard were loading equipment onto their geldings. All wore chain shirrs, helmets, and serious looks. Each bore a blade, a crossbow, and a shield enameled with the Uskevren crest. Their livery, too, featured the Uskevren horse at anchor. They spoke congenially to their mounts as they checked tack, harness, stirrup, and saddle.

“My lord,” all of them nodded to Tamlin in greeting. “Mister Cale.”

“Men,” Tamlin answered.

Ren nodded a greeting at Cale as he stuffed a bedroll into his saddlebag.

The head gtoom, a tall, thin man with tanned arms and dark hair, moved from man to man, fretting. “I assure you that all is in order with the tack.” His annoyed tone made cleat that he took extreme pride in his meticulous work, and that the house guards’ efforts came as a personal affronr.

The men smiled, nodded, and ignored him, adjusting straps and buckles as they saw fit.

A boy held Cale’s and Tamlin’s mounts by their bits. Cale eyed the horses with apprehension.

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