The Free by Brian Ruckley

Author:Brian Ruckley [Ruckley, Brian]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781405518765
Publisher: Little, Brown Book Group
Published: 2014-10-13T16:00:00+00:00

19

The Long Three Hundred

They left Hestin and the Clamour and three of Rudran’s horsemen in the lee of an overhanging rock face. The horsemen dispersed themselves to mount a watch, but in truth they were not there to stand guard. The Clamour, and therefore Hestin herself, would not be endangered by anything that might stumble across them out here. It was the Permanence itself that needed watching. There was to be violence; there was to be much shaping and twisting of the entelechs. These were things that could, on occasion, disturb the Clamour and test Hestin’s control over it. It was only the crudest of wisdom to have some folk on hand to bring warning, should the worst happen.

When they parted, Yulan noted that Hestin’s cloak of leaves had a healthy green to it. It was not taxing her overmuch to keep the Clamour quiescent. She did not seem overly tired, or ill. With even the most modest of good fortune, nothing would go awry.

The high ground flanking the Old Threetower Road was more rugged than that they had recently traversed. Knolls of bare, cracked and layered rock burst from the short sward as if they were boils blistering on a giant’s back. Between them the ground was undulating, punctuated by sudden dips and rises.

Without the Clamour’s wagon to haul, they could move quickly and with a good deal of shelter from prying eyes. Yulan was not, in any case, much concerned with concealment. Hamdan and his archers were still out there, scouting. Hunting. Any outriders Callotec had scattered to guard the line of his march were unlikely to raise the alarm before an arrow stilled them.

If the Clevers that now rode with Callotec were somehow keeping more subtle watch… well, there was not a great deal to be done about that. It seemed unlikely, though. That sort of continuing exertion while on the move was beyond most Clevers; certainly those accustomed to the gentle life of the School. It was punishing. Very few were able, and fewer still willing, to make the sacrifices required.

They found Hamdan sitting on a rock, close to the little valley through which the Threetower Road ran, quietly smoothing the flights of his arrows with his lips. His fellow scouts were still mounted, passing a water skin from one to another. They held the reins of not only Hamdan’s horse but two others.

“He had two riders up here,” Hamdan said as Yulan and the rest drew near. “Not very good at their business. Didn’t even see us coming.”

“Another two likely over there somewhere, then,” Yulan said, jabbing his chin towards the high ground on the far side of the valley. “Best to get on with things, just in case they’ve got better eyes.”

“They’ll be looking the other way, but yes.” Hamdan cupped a hand to his ear and raised his eyebrows in exaggerated expectation. “I don’t hear them yet, but I think our guests should be here at any moment.”

Yulan vaulted down from his horse and waited for Hamdan to carefully slot his arrows back into their quiver.

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