Wurts, Janny - Wars of Light & Shadow 02 by Wurts Janny

Author:Wurts, Janny
Language: eng
Format: epub

The seneschal bristled. 'But this is outrageous! To barge in and berate me for not consorting with riff-raff in the streets. For your insolence, I should demand a review of your competence.'

'Try.' Pesquil bared yellowed teeth, his mailed fist at ease on the sword responsible for harvesting more clan scalps than any other blade in the northern reaches. 'This city's ignorant riff-raff, as you name them, have word of the Master of Shadow. They bandy tales in our taverns that every misbegotten sailor's told his grandmother since the traders' galleys berthed in winter dry dock!'

The overbred smirk on the seneschal's face dissolved like wax left near a fire. 'What?'

'On the night of summer solstice, the city of Jaelot was half tom to wreckage by a sorcerer who lived there for months in disguise, but left with black hair and green eyes.' Unmoved by the seneschal's pasty-faced shock, Pesquil infiected his next lines like the cut and riposte of lethal steel. 'Alestroh, downcoast, suffered an explosion inside a locked armoury that killed seven men. Although the s'Brydion duke is no fool, and his best troops combed the countryside for a fugitive who bore the selfsame description, no culprit was found. Arithon s'Ffalenn has come out of hiding in Melhalla. If the guild minister's council has not pause 391

TheWarsofLightandShadows wonder, or take steps to see why no messengers came through from region, somebody had better act now. Or I'll personally roust Lord M.

Moffett away from counting jewels for his daughter's trousseau over t

'Right away, right away!' The seneschal flutried a hand to dispatc}

limp secretary on the errand.

Pesquil watched the agitated hurry raised by his news in stone-f~

scalding ill-humour. Braced for days of political manoeuvring v~

Etarra's beribboned city governance primed in agitation to act, he deci cold-nerved, that he would arrange to carry the dispatches sent to Av~

himself. A hand-picked contingent of his headhunters would en information re. ached Prince Lysaer with all speed.

Shakedown

On the morn that Pesquil's company embarked from Etarra under dismal, sleeting skies for their arduous winter journey to Avenor, balmy southern winds flapped the pennons of a newlydaunched sloop, moored amid a damascened circle of reflection in the distant, turquoise waters of Merior.

The Shadow Master whose misdeeds were named in Mayor Morfett's sealed dispatches scarcely looked the mage-trained minion of evil. Clad in a plain linen shirt and loose trousers, he carried no weapon beyond a rigging knife. The tanned hands that drove the sweeping stroke of his oars as he rowed the sloop's tender ashore were innocent of spells or subterfuge.

Certainly no villager knew him for the author of uncivil deeds as he leapt barefoot into the shallows, beached his dory, and strode through 392

TheWarsofLightandShadows the dunes and shoulder-high oat grass to call at the whitewashed cottage of Mistress [inesse. Two fishermen who idled on shore leave grinned in lewd interest, for the widow's battened windows gave clear indication that she wished no truck with any visitor.

Arithon s'Ffalenn stood braced in the sun-washed sand of her yard, a crooked grin on his lips.

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