Firestorm by Lucy Hounsom

Author:Lucy Hounsom [Hounsom, Lucy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pan Books

23

Gareth

‘Now that is a lot of army.’ Yara lowered the brass eyeglass, handed it to Argat. ‘Take a look, Cap.’

Argat screwed up his mouth, as if he’d been forced to chew on a bunch of lemons. ‘I’ve seen quite enough of them. They snake all the way back to that plain we flew over an hour ago.’

It had been a week since Gareth and Kul’Das had left Paarth and their mysterious pursuer behind. He glanced at the gauntlets, wondering if they were the reason he’d been followed. Who knew how many people would recognize them on sight? I ought to be more careful. The thought of losing them, of their being stolen, caused him physical pain.

‘May I?’ Gareth asked. He held out a hand for the eyeglass and, though they stood within an arm’s reach of each other, Argat tossed it to him. The captain went out of his way to avoid touching the gauntlets. Ironic, Gareth thought, for a man who’d bargained so hard for them. He raised the eyeglass and it dutifully showed him just how much trouble they were in.

Iresonté had made good on her threat. The Fist moved fast, faster than an army its size should be able to move. They had almost reached the red valley where, according to Irilin, Shika had lost his life.

Life and death were now intimate friends. He knew how mutable they were, how fragile. So it was hard to believe that Shika was out of his reach. No living, no dead thing, should be out of his reach. Grief rose like a bubble, popped on the sharp surface of his thoughts.

He swallowed, returning the eyeglass to Yara. ‘Thank you.’

‘For showing you our end?’ the first mate asked bitterly. ‘We can’t fight them.’

‘We have to try.’ He thought of the promise he’d made to his mother, a promise he could not now keep. Without the gauntlets, he was nothing. The mere thought of someone else wielding them made his blood boil. ‘How swiftly can we reach Ümvast?’

Yara pursed her lips as she thought. ‘Eight days. Depends on whether your people have already begun moving south.’

Eight days. If the Fist went through the valley, they would be in Rairam by then. But the men would surely revolt if Iresonté tried to force them through the hoarlands. No, they’d take to ship, landing on safer, if unknown, shores, relying on speed and the belief that Rairam had no formal defences. If he were Iresonté, he’d cut a path straight to the capital, to Market Primus. Astra Marahan and the other traders would fall flat on their faces when confronted with a force the size of the Fist. If Iresonté held the capital, the rest of Rairam would quickly fall into line.

‘What are you thinking?’ Yara asked, jolting him from his dark contemplation.

‘I’m thinking that Iresonté will sail around and then strike inland for the capital. While I was with him, Hagdon received a report of war galleys being brought up from the south.’

Argat grunted.

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