Time of Daughters II by Sherwood Smith

Author:Sherwood Smith [Smith, Sherwood]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: epic fantasy, kings, queens, magic, revolution, ghosts, military academy
ISBN: 9781611388442
Publisher: Book View Cafe
Published: 2019-11-29T06:00:00+00:00

That night, Pepper’s flight reached the marsh to the east of Ku Halir roughly about the time the Winter Company searched through the silent West Outpost at the mouth of the southern pass, taking scalp trophies and looking for any hiding survivors to kill.

Already the flies were gathering about the dead.

Quill slipped back in among Ghost’s company, who he suspected had been selectively blind toward obvious noncombatants making their desperate way toward the ruined gate.

Pale light filled the V of the pass behind them, dawn imminent. The ferocious spike of battle lust had ebbed, leaving Connar’s combined force filthy, stinking of sweat and blood, exhausted. Tempers ranged from exultant (Connar, and at the other end of the castle, Cabbage Gannan), to vile.

Jethren could not be read by anyone. He seemed tireless, striding everywhere to check that no enemy survived and that his company was diligently searching. Quill, watching in order to keep at a distance, noticed how often Jethren turned toward Connar. Expecting what?

Connar seemed unaware of him. Unaware of anything, including the piles of dead, until at last the captains converged on him, Gannan prudently keeping himself behind Connar’s favorites.

“Outpost secure,” Stick said, after a glance from Ghost.

Connar’s exaltation at how his plan had worked was already diminishing: not surprising, Elsarion had not been among those in the command center. But enough of his good mood remained for him to turn Cabbage’s way, and say, “Excellent attack. You’ll take command here, with your people. Hold it until our return. Where’s Henad Tlennen?”

“Here,” she said, coming forward, avoiding Quill’s gaze; he suspect she had also colluded in pretending not to see the castle children and their minders or guardians fleeing.

Connar pointed toward the west gate and beyond. “Keep patrolling. Orders still stand, anyone suspicious, kill them. If there’s a question, lock them up until we return.”

He lifted his voice to include the lancers Commander Ventdor had sent. “The rest of us will make the run up the pass, all the way to Elsarion.”

Jethren roared, “Victory!”

His company responded with as much force as they could muster, raggedly joined by most of the rest. Many were silent, shocked by what they saw, which only worsened as the darkness began, inexorably, to lift.

When the shouts died away, Connar beckoned to his three captains. “Withdraw to the supply wagons. There should be a meal prepared. Half a day of rest, then a hard push. We’ve cleared the traps, so there’s nothing left to slow us. The less time we give them to dig in at the other end, the better.”

Connar caught sight of Quill. “Prepare to ride with us. I expect we’ll need translation when we dictate terms.” He turned away.

In a sharp, hortatory voice that to Ghost Fath and Stick Tyavayir managed to sound sycophantic, Jethren marshaled his diminished company into strict order. His intent was to demonstrate their instant obedience as well as their superior discipline, but the effect was to divide them off even more thoroughly from the rest of the Winter Company, many of whom looked on in weary, not-so-covert disgust at such unnecessary swagger.

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