Sword Empire by Robert Leader

Author:Robert Leader
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
Published: 2007-12-11T05:00:00+00:00

Two days later, they stood on a high sandstone cliff overlooking the cold grey curve of the Great Steel River. Kananda sat on a rock and simply enjoyed the all-around view, thankful that the long trek across country was over. He was anxious to get down the river and begin the real search for Maryam, but Zela and Jayna were being particular about their choice of transport. They had already let three riverboats pass below them without seeking any passage.

Now another craft was coming into view, its arrival heralded by a smudge of smoke on the skyline, and Jayna had it fixed in the long-range, close-view glasses she held to her eyes.

“The deck-cargo looks like wolf and bear hides, which means they are probably going all the way down to Corrion. Just one man and a boy as crew, which means they’ll have enough work to keep them both busy without wanting to talk too much. Probably the best we can hope for.”

Jayna handed the glasses to Zela so that she could see for herself. Zela nodded her agreement and then pushed the glasses deep into her pack. They had already rearranged their belongings so that the hand lazers and anything else that might arouse suspicion were now well hidden. The two women hoisted their packs again. Kananda did the same and followed them down the steep, ledge path that ran down the cliff-face to the river bank. By the time the boat arrived, they were signaling for it to stop.

The craft was about forty feet long, a clinker-built hardwood hull of overlapping planks with a high prow and a single shelter over the wheel. At the stern, it was powered by a large paddle wheel, driven by a steam engine. The boy’s task was to feed cut timber into the iron furnace box and water into the boiler which produced the steam. The man in the wheelhouse was heavily cloaked in furs and his face was wrinkled and creased beneath a fur cap. He reversed the churn of the paddle wheel to hold the boat against the current as it drifted alongside the bank. His expression was grim, with no sign of welcome, but at least he had not ignored them.

They began to walk along the bank to keep alongside the boat. Kananda had been briefed as their spokesman and called out bluntly, “We are from a hunting party. Our group has run out of salt and we need passage to the next town to buy more. We will pay for the passage.”

The boy left his place and came to the rail to stare down at them, his face as impassive as his father’s. The older man took his time thinking the offer over. The marmoth hunters used large quantities of salt in the first stage of preserving the huge chunks of cut meat, and so the story was a credible one. Finally he leaned out of his wheelhouse, grunted and spat to clear his throat.

“The next town is Rakor, a shit-hole of a place, but you can buy salt there.

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