Sorcery Rising by Jude Fisher

Author:Jude Fisher [Fisher, Jude]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fantasy, Fiction, General, Magic, Fantasy - General, Epic, Fantasy fiction, Fantasy - Epic, Fiction - Fantasy, Women artisans, Knifesmiths
ISBN: 9780756401108
Publisher: DAW
Published: 2003-06-30T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14: Madness

TANTO helped himself to another goblet of wine from a passing server's tray. The good stuff had run out now, he noted, his thoughts as sour as the wine. Even so, he threw it down his throat and reached for another. His head had begun to take on the familiar dull ache that presaged an almighty hangover for the next morning, but right now he did not care.

Damn his self-righteous little brother. Damn his stupid father and Uncle Fabel, too. And as for Lord Tycho Issian, he hoped the Goddess's hottest flames would devour the man. But not until he'd accepted Tanto as his wed-son, whatever that might take. He drained the goblet in a single gulp, barely even aware of the tart, spicy liquid burning its way down his gullet.

He was just about to find the serving boy for another refill when he saw the Lord of Cantara making his way through the entrance to the pavilion. Beside him was a tall, thin man with almost no color to him at all. Despite himself, Tanto stared. The man's hair was so pale as to be white, and against the pallor of his face, his features were indistinct. He looked like a lamprey, Tanto thought, a sickly, slippery eel of a man. The two of them walked quickly into the midst of the throng, heads inclined toward one another as if they were deep in conversation.

I will sell her to the first man who bids me well for her. Lord Tycho Issian had been true to his vile word, he had found his bidder. Tanto felt a fury rise in him. So he'd strike a deal for his daughter with this . . . this . . . slug, would he? He hurled down his empty goblet, and began to push his way through the crowd toward them then changed his mind. What would he do: confront the Lord of Cantara; knock down the slug-man; have everyone here know his family didn't have the money for the bride-price? No. He thought for a moment, his befuddled mind spinning. No, indeed. He smiled. He had a much better idea.

Outside, the stars were burning brightly and the moon was mantled by drifting cloud. The cold air soon sobered him, but rather than deter him from his plan, it stiffened his resolve. He stared out at the canvas city that had spread itself across the barren black plain, and struck out for the Istrian quarter. He passed the great tents of Lord Prionan's retinue, deliberately pitched close to the grand pavilion as if to gain authority from their very proximity. The colored family pennants hung lax in the windless air. He walked past the pavilions belonging to the Qarans of Talsea, and the Duke of Cera's huge complex of tents. As he went quickly by, a deep, rumbling growl rolled out through the darkness toward him. It was a sound like none he'd ever heard. For a moment, it stopped him

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