The Heart of Myrial by Maggie Furey

Author:Maggie Furey [Furey, Maggie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781857239027
Google: b_kPNgAACAAJ
Publisher: Orbit
Published: 1999-09-15T03:06:04+00:00

CHAPTER 16

Shelters In The Storm

Toulac left her visitor to her dressing and went to put the I kettle on. As she came back into the kitchen, she was surprised to hear the sound of hooves on the road outside. Surely that couldn’t possibly be Veldan’s people already? If it was, they had been bloody quick about getting down off the mountain! “Who the thundering blazes can that be?” she muttered, and went to the window to take a look.

“Myrial in a handcart! It’s the Hierarch again!” Toulac gasped, peering out through the shifting snow at the peculiar cavalcade that was heading for her door. “And that miserable drab’s bastard Lord Blade. What in the festering pits of perdition are they doing here?”

Below Toulac’s house the road ran round a jutting shoulder of the mountain, and after that ran straight and sloped steeply, all the way downhill to the plateau in clear view of the city. It would be way too exposed to travel in a blizzard like this. The travelers would be forced to seek shelter…

“Bugger it,” Toulac muttered grimly. “This is all I need!”

The veteran dodged behind the curtain as the cavalcade drew to a ragged halt, right outside her door. Toulac hesitated barely an instant—then grabbed her own sword and Veldan’s weapons, and dashed back to Veldan’s room. The woman was finishing her dressing at top speed. “Armed men,” she said succinctly. “Kaz told me. He’s gone to hide at the back of the barn, so you should try to keep them out of there.”

Toulac nodded. “It’s the Hierarch and that misbegotten Blade. Wear my clothes—from the chest there. Get into bed—I’ll tell them you’re sick…” Her words were drowned by a thunderous knocking. “Hide these.” She thrust the weapons at Veldan. “Stay put.”

Veldan nodded. “I’ll warn Elion to stay away. I only hope he’ll be all right in this snow.”

“Better than he’ll be if Blade starts asking him awkward questions.” Glad that her guest had the sense to know when to obey orders, Toulac scurried back to the door. “Coming, coming. Give these poor old bones a chance… Why, my Lords!” Dipping her head respectfully (she was damned if she’d bow to the slimy sons of bitches) she stepped back to allow them to enter. “Come in, come in and welcome, my Lords,” she prattled, gesturing them toward the fire. “It’s an honor to shelter such grand folk, I’m sure.”

Mazal stood foursquare in his corner, his tail swishing irritably and his neck snaked out, ready to bite the first stranger who came near. Blade had stopped in his tracks, in the doorway, and was staring at the warhorse, his mouth twisted with distaste. “Old woman,” he said coldly, “I am not accustomed to sharing my quarters with livestock.”

And Mazal isn’t accustomed to sharing his quarters with such scum as you, you heartless, mean-spirited snake. Still, at least he hadn’t recognized her from long ago, and that was the main thing. Toulac took a deep breath and unclenched her teeth.

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