Avenger of Antares by Alan Burt Akers

Avenger of Antares by Alan Burt Akers

Author:Alan Burt Akers [Akers, Alan Burt]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, Science Fiction
ISBN: 184319404X
Publisher: Mushroom eBooks
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER ELEVEN

Of a fire and an abduction

The next morning, after I had taken an extensive bath to rid myself of the odor of the previous night, an incredible thing happened to me. I went along to one of the tailors’ shops in the Street of Threads, which opened off the Kyro of the Vadvars, and there I bought a brand-new, brilliant green jacket.

I tried it on and, of course, it was far too narrow across the shoulders. The stitching creaked. The shopkeeper, a wizened gul with tired eyes and tailor’s chalk marks all over his own worn but immaculate clothes, exclaimed in surprise. Most of the gul shops here were owned by Horters or nobles, and the guls must go home to their own quarters at night.

I felt the snow-white ling fur trimming. I am fond of ling fur. I think of my Delia and the Plains of Segesthes when I touch that smooth, silky fur.

“Can you alter it?”

“Indeed yes, Notor.”

“This afternoon, then.”

He bowed me out. He’d have to insert a fresh panel all the way up the back, a good two hands’ breadths wider.

The incredible thing was, simply, that I felt pure relief at wearing a green jacket. Incredible — positively eerie! That I, a Krozair Brother, should actually feel I was cleaner wearing the green! Well, I think this goes to show how much that depravity of the night before, with Lem the Silver Leem, had affected me.

I promised myself as I strolled along toward Rees’s villa, I would seek out Ornol that night. Too many side issues had taken my feet from the path. Mind you, it did occur to me to wonder just how the wise men of Vallia were performing with the information I had sent them via Delia and the emperor.

Just as I was going past a baker’s shop and sniffing the delightful flavor of those long Kregan loaves, I was hailed by Tothord, the Elten of the Ruby Hills. He looked animated.

“Have you not heard, Hamun? They are bringing in a new batch of prisoners today! I shall watch the procession, and then it will be the Jikhorkdun for me!”

For him and half Ruathytu. This Tothord gloated over the torture of those poor devils of prisoners of war as they were thrust into the arena, to be slain by armored and armed men, or to be devoured by wild beasts. I did not keep up with the Jikhorkdun here in Ruathytu. It was messier even than the Arena in Huringa, where I had fought as a hyr-kaidur. They had been days, though!

I took an amith-trolley with Tothord to see the procession come splendidly down the Arrow of Hork to the Arena. I went merely because I thought I would carry the information and a report to Rees and Chido, and thereby cheer them.

A whole regiment of infantry preceded the prisoners. This regiment, and like a good spy I committed to memory their number and their strength, was the twenty-first regiment of foot, the numerals blazed proudly forth on their shields.



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