The Essence Gate War: Book 01 - Adept by Arnquist Michael

Author:Arnquist, Michael [Arnquist, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2013-01-26T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 16

Amric drew rein before the eastern gate of Keldrin’s Landing and studied the flurry of activity taking place there beneath the damaged archway. He took in the scorched and blackened stone, the shattered remnants of the great ironbound doors, and the deep, raking marks that scored the length of the massive city wall. A veritable legion of sappers scrambled here and there under the bellowed direction of a stout, red-faced man who must have been the combat engineer in charge.

With a practiced eye, Amric assessed the fortifications the men were constructing: rows of outward-facing spikes jutting from the ground, deadweight drops suspended in the archway, staggered trenches carved through the paving and waiting to be filled by the precisely placed barrels of oil, an archer’s wall in the courtyard beyond.

The city had suffered a concerted attack, and was preparing for war. From the frantic pace of the sappers, they expected the next assault to come at any time. Amric noted the way the setting sun ahead painted the top of the city wall a burnished red-gold hue, and he decided they might have good reason indeed to make haste. He wheeled his bay gelding about to face the others. Valkarr and Syth looked upon the preparations with stony expressions, comprehension plain upon their features. Halthak’s eyes were wide, and he divided his attention between the gate and the road that stretched out behind them, winding like a ribbon over the rolling hills as the deepening dusk gnawed steadily at its distant end. Bellimar sat his old nag with his usual composure, but his eyes devoured every detail as they approached.

Few words had been exchanged that morning when the party emerged from the cave with the horses and found the old man standing in the road, his cloak drawn tight around him. Amric had met the vampire’s gaze and held it for a long moment, waiting until he was certain that Bellimar read the warning and the promise contained therein. When understanding passed between them, Amric handed him the reins to his sway-backed mare and they both mounted without another word.

The warrior had elected not to comment on the fact that Bellimar’s silver hair was now streaked with dark grey, and some of the fine wrinkles on his ancient visage had faded over the course of the night. He preferred not to dwell overlong on the implications such changes raised for how Bellimar had passed the hours alone until morning.

Thalya sat with a stiff back upon her glossy black mare. She looked as if she had swallowed that broad-bladed hunting knife of hers sideways, an expression she had worn since Bellimar rejoined them in the morn. Her narrowed eyes never strayed far from the man who, for his part, affected not to notice her icy glares.

“Valkarr, come with me,” Amric said. “The rest of you, wait here.”

The two warriors rode to the gate, keeping to an unhurried pace. Guards watched every step of their approach, hands resting on weapons and arrows nocked to bows.

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