Fortress Draconis by Michael A. Stackpole

Author:Michael A. Stackpole [Stackpole, Michael A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, Fantasy
ISBN: 9780553578492
Google: XjG35YXaovgC
Amazon: 0553578499
Goodreads: 255879
Publisher: Spectra
Published: 2001-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

A half week, somber and dour, passed between the con-IX frontation with Myrall’mara and the arrival of the cele-i lbrated Jeranese general, Markus Adrogans. In the aftermath of the slaughter, Alyx had thought about many things, though none could deflect her from remembering the torn corpses cooling, and the little sighs the children made as their bodies relaxed and forced air from lungs.

She’d seen such things before, and heard them, but never quite that way. She’d seen slain children in the wake of Aurolani raids. She’d heard the death-sighs of corpses. She’d just never been close enough to the site where children had died to see their blood yet flowing and their eyes still clouding over. And never was that death at my hands.

Peri had done her best to lighten Alyx’s mood over the past five days, but her sister knew her well enough to back away when things would not work. Misha had tried as well. When his initial suggestions that they enjoy some diversion such as theater failed to win her acquiescence, he challenged her to train with him at swordplay. The workouts had been good, but had left Misha bruised and sore; which darkened the mood that had been started because of injuries done to those who did not deserve them.

Had she been given a choice, she would not have come to Fortress Gryps for the reception in Adrogans’ honor. But the Grand Duchess saw to it that she had no choice, and had even selected for her the gown with an embroidered bodice of black and gold over gold starched-satin skirts. The gown left her uncovered from the bodice to neck and wrists, which she found uncomfortable despite having spent ample time growing up amid the Gyrkyme wearing as little as possible.

At least, with them, I was always allowed to have a dagger strapped to my thigh or upper arm. She’d actually wanted to wear one on her upper left arm, and Peri had gotten her a suitable sheath covered with the same brocade as her bodice, but Tatyana had vetoed that plan. She could have worn it on her thigh, but digging beneath the skirts to draw it would have been impossible. The Grand Duchess had allowed as how she could secret a dagger between her breasts as part of the bodice, but Alyx doubted mightily that it would remain secret for long. That particular portion of her anatomy seemed to invite inspection, especially from those odious lechers she’d have loved to stab.

Alyx had arrived at the reception early in hopes she would be allowed to leave equally early. She knew, from careful study of Adrogans’ battles, that he would arrive late with a large entourage and wreak havoc. As the evening wore on and the moment of his impending arrival grew closer, Alyx had taken the precaution of moving away from the tables laden with victuals, lest she be trapped between them and the Jeranese General Staff. From studying supply reports, she knew Adrogans’ troops were largely overfed, his army more of a herd than a military organization.

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