(eng) Alan Burt Akers - Dray Prescot 27 by Mazes of Scorpio

Author:Mazes of Scorpio [Scorpio, Mazes of]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter twelve

Through the Snarly Hills

“Hold on a moment, Seg,” I said, and halted on the forest slope to catch a breath. “My lungs are on fire, and my side burns.”

Seg stopped to look back. Some of the others took the opportunity to halt in a straggly line between the trees under the dim green light. Seg didn’t believe me.

“It’s all uphill and down my old dom, I know. But—?”

Strom Ornol bustled up. His pale face looked greenish in the light and — was that a flush of color along the cheekbones? Possible, although unlikely...

“What are you lollygagging about for? Come on, come on!”

Skort the Clawsang passed me, his bulging knapsack just about finding room between me and the tree I leaned against. I had to pull back to let him pass. His skull face turned toward me, but he said nothing.

Only his crimson eyes gleamed as he passed.

“Sink me!” I burst out. “I’ll rupture my inward parts if we gallop along like this.”

Seg’s face was a picture.

The Fristle sorcerer, for whom we had waited for our meeting in The Dragon’s Roost, also passed without a word. His winged pet balanced agilely on his shoulder, every now and again flirting a wing out to maintain balance. A right pair, they were...

Exandu waddled up.

His face resembled Zim at the going down of the day, seen through a misty haze, embracing all around him with a roseate glow. Sweat dropped. He puffed.

“I have—” he gasped, and swallowed, and tried again. “I have a thorn through my foot. I am sure of it.

And my face — I am bitten through to the bone by these pinheads!”

Shanli helped him. Her face was intent.

“I have ointments, master — when we rest—”

“When! That Ornol strides on like a madman!”

“We rest now, Exandu,” I said. I turned as the blue shadow that was the lady Ilsa halted, gasping, her hand to her side. “We rest now.”

“Oh” said Seg. He beamed. Then: “Why didn’t you just tell the infernal idiot?”

“He believes he leads us. That is fine—” I looked away as Ilsa more fell than sat down. She still did not accept us as equals, and Seg and I couldn’t care less. I said to no one in particular, “If I can’t have a rest now, I will not answer for the consequences.”

When Strom Ornol strode back along the line of struggling people with their burdens he found us sitting comfortably, our backs against the tree, sipping ale.

He frowned.

He picked on the lady Ilsa.

“Up, Ilsa. We must get on. You keep me waiting.”

“My feet, Ornol—”

Her moccasins were strong and sensible, supple and resistant to thorns. But no one was in any doubt that marching over this forested range of hills was a laborious and painful business for anyone, let alone a girl. I had ventured, just the once, to suggest that the ladies be left in Selsmot. I had been told by Ornol to shut my mouth and keep out of his business, and by Exandu that, much as he regretted the necessity, Shanli had to go.

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