The Golden Hills of Westria by Diana L. Paxson

Author:Diana L. Paxson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates
Published: 2006-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

You cannot see us, you cannot hear us—Julian mouthed silently. Look away . . . you see only the fog. . . .

He stilled, scarcely daring to breathe, as the sentry turned and began his regular march back along the road, his torch a bobbing sphere of brightness in the misty air. The man was a fool, thought the king, to blind his night vision thus, but these people said the hours of darkness were haunted by demons. Demons like me. . . . Julian touched the mud that masked his face and grinned. For this mission he carried a shield of plain wood, and a dark tunic covered his mail. He had prayed for such a night as this, when the sea wind that began to blow at dawn would carry in a fog to hide him from his foe.

As the torch dimmed, he turned back toward the bay and closed his eyes, drawing on the power of the Wind Crystal that he bore within. It was legitimate, he thought, to use the power of the Jewels to encourage the elements to act in a way that would be useful. He would not have tried to summon a storm in summer just to serve his need, but he had certainly urged the rain clouds to flood the Suns’ advance this spring, even though it meant that his own army was as wet and cold and muddy as the enemy.

“Come wind—” he whispered, “draw a veil of mist between us now. . . .” He waited until a breath of damp air kissed his cheek and he could scarcely see the reeds, and then, with a burst of wordless thanks to the sprites who had sent it, he whistled softly to the men behind him.

Three more such groups were already infiltrating the town. This was the last of them, two dozen men including the king and his guard. Swiftly they crossed the road, silent as shadows in the fog, and made their way through the back streets of the town. Badly as Sanjos had been damaged when it fell, the streets were yet recognizable to those men of Las Costas who had managed to join them. Julian did not have the forces to recapture the city, but if they could retain surprise, the troops converging on the tower should be able to overcome the circle of sentries that ringed it now.

They halted to regroup in the courtyard of a ruined mansion near the citadel’s shattered outer wall. Alexander had been in a hurry to rebuild after Caolin’s war, and his walls, for all their splendor, had been of adobe brick faced with granite instead of solid stone.

The men detailed for the diversion slipped away, and they settled down to wait once more.

“Will you not at least stay here, my lord, with a guard?” whispered Edwin, continuing the argument that had raged since the king proposed his plan. The rest of the guard murmured agreement.

“Unless I order him out of there in person, Alexander may not be willing to come.

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