The Iron Grail by Robert Holdstock

Author:Robert Holdstock [Holdstock, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction
ISBN: 9780765307262
Google: bSXo3zbesI0C
Amazon: 076530726X
Publisher: Tor Books
Published: 2004-02-02T08:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Under Siege

The little boat, the comforting companion, slipped away from the shore and was drawn into Argo, timber into timber, old time into the present. I felt sad to see her go, but I knew that Argo would be glad to have her back. Jason loomed darkly at the stern, peering across Nantosuelta, flint eyes seeking the shadow of the man he half suspected was watching him. Then he gave the order and Argo was cast free of the bank. Nantosuelta took her and shifted her to the side closer to life and the living; the oars rose and dipped; my old friend Rubobostes grunted the rhythm as he took charge of the steering oar, and in the prow the small, sleek dark shape of Niiv hunched like some cat, ready to pounce, staying still, as still as death, waiting for her moment.

Argo passed from sight along the river between the worlds and I was forced to contemplate the more pressing reality: how to return to Taurovinda before Jason and his mercenary crew reached the stronghold.

I had reckoned without Mielikki. She must have slowed progress down the river, perhaps because she was more sympathetic to me, a timeless creature like herself, than to Jason, whose agenda was personal, private, aggressive and abusive. In any event, after several days of running through the valleys, the forests and the narrow passes standing between Taurovinda and Ghostland, I finally saw the looming hill, with its fires and banners and totem figures rising above the high ramparts, the clear signal that Urtha was still in control of his home.

Taurovinda, however, was under siege.

I had been passed, during my journey, by a long column of what I believed to be the Unborn; they rode heavy horses and were cloaked in plain colours, reds and greens, rather than the elaborate patterns of the dead. Their swords were sheathed in gold-inlaid scabbards, and they carried single, thick-shafted lances rather than the clutch of slim javelins with which Urtha and his predecessors had become adept.

Their shields were narrow ovals, very plain, and carried at the horse’s flank rather than slung over the warrior’s back. I was learning enough about Ghostland to be able to recognise a squadron of the future warlords of the realm.

Though I had hidden from them as they’d passed, they conveyed no sense of danger.

Then a band of Dead, twenty or so, stripped and stained with colour, rattling with bronze and bone rings on their upper arms, ears and ankles, had scampered past on foot, pursued by the shadows of ravens, a flock keeping an eye on the men upon whose appetites it would feed. Cruel and crude, this band seemed to exist in a world of hidden sense, aware of me though not seeing me, passing through the forest like moisture on a cool wind. Almost as soon as they had come into view they had slipped away, but I was able to follow them for days; they left a trail of wildwood slaughter.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.