Alan Burt Akers [Dray Prescot 21] A Fortune for Kregen (pdf)

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Her feet were clad in slippers. I shook my head at that. Her face she had a high, clear face with a
perfect skin of a dusky rose color, and with a sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose I
imagined must cause her acute embarrassment, quite needlessly. The habitual authority she held was
delightfully softened by a natural charm. I could still think that, and she a slave owner and me a slave.
At her back stood two Pachaks, clearly twins, and their faces bore the hard, dedicated, no-nonsense
looks of hyr-paktuns who have given their honor in the nikobi code of allegiance into good hands. At
their throats the golden glitter of the pakzhan proclaimed that they were hyr-paktuns, and conscious of
the high dignity within the mercenary fraternity that position conferred upon them.
My lady? said this Tyr Ungovich, and he did not lift the hood of his checkered cloak to speak.
It is to you we owe our safe arrival here, said the flying man. He rustled his wings. Your guidance has
been invaluable, Tyr Ungovich
Yagno, the sorcerer, pushed himself forward. The answer appears a simple progression of symbols
the alphabet reversed, or twinned
Or tripled, or squared, perhaps? The voice of Ungovich, cold and mocking from his hood, congealed
in the dusty air.
Old Deb-Lu-Quienyin stood with the others and said nothing.
Well, we must get on! Loriman the Hunter spoke pettishly. If there is gold here, then it keeps itself to
itself. Have a slave pull the chain, anyway
Yes, said Ungovich. Why not do that?
The backward movement among the slaves resembled the rustling withdrawal of a wave as it slips back
down a shingly beach.
Kov Loriman beckoned. You yetch here.
The slave to whom he pointed was one of his own, as, of course, he would have to be. The fellow
shrank back. He was a Gon, and his hair was beginning to bristle out in short white spears. Loriman
shouted, and one of his guards, a Rapa, stalked across and hauled the Gon out. The fellow was shaking
with terror.
Haul, slave! said Loriman in that icy, unimpassioned voice of the man who has ordered slaves about
unthinkingly since he could toddle.
Seeing there was nothing for it, the Gon took the chain in both fists. The chain was of bronze and the
links were as thick as thumbs, as wide as saucers.
Haul with a will, said Loriman, and stepped back a pace.
The Gon stretched up. His wire brush bristle of white hair glinted. He hauled.
Instantly, with an eerie shriek, the chain transformed itself into a long bronze shape of horror. Like a
python it wrapped folds about the Gon, squeezed.
His eyes popped. He shrieked. And, over the shrieks, the sounds of his rib cage breaking in and
crushing all within in a squelching red jelly drove everyone back in the grip of supernatural horror.
By Sasco! Loriman fought his panic, overcame it, gave vent to his anger.
The others reacted in their various ways. Watching, I saw this Kyr Ungovich standing, unmoved.
The lady put a laced cloth to her mouth.
Prince Nedfar said, No more. We read the riddle.
The bronze chain dangling from the shadows became once more a bronze chain. Slaves dragged the
crushed corpse into a corner. Another mark was chalked up against this great Kov Loriman the Hunter.
They tried series of patterns, pushing various symbols and trying the chain. They lost more slaves. Not all
were crushed by the serpent chain. Some vanished through a trapdoor that opened with a gush of vile
smoke. Others charred and then burned as the chain glowed with inner fires.
Every slave prayed that his master would not attempt to read the riddle, and having done so, pick on him
to prove him right or wrong.
A young man, just about to enter the prime of life, standing with Prince Nedfar and Princess Thefi,
chewed his lower lip. I had taken scant notice of him, foolishly, as I learned. He wore simple armor, and
carried as well as a rapier and main gauche, a thraxter slung around him. Also, and this I did remark,
swinging from his belt hung a single-bladed, spike-headed, short-hafted axe. When he moved toward the
cross of the four tables, and spoke up, I took notice of him.
His features were regular and pleasing, with dark hair and frank bold eyes which he kept veiled, as I
saw, and he moved as it were diffidently, as though always hiding his light.
Father, he said, let me try.
Prince Nedfar gestured to the four tables.
The riddle is yours, my son.
Princess Thefi looked at him with some concern, as though she understood more of her brother than
anyone else. I did not think they were twins. He smiled reassuringly at her, and moved with his hesitant
step to the tables, and looked down.
He spoke up as though he had pondered what he would say during the preceding tragedies.
There are lines of red, green and black. No one has marked them before. The symbols have taken all
attention. He looked up and gestured to the walls. See the long black drapes, separated? Then, I think,
this is the answer. And he stabbed his hand down a long row of the black squares.
Perhaps said the sorcerer, almost sneering.
The others waited. Prince Nedfar motioned to a slave and this wight moved reluctantly forward. He
shook uncontrollably.
Wait! The Young prince stepped toward the chain. Before anyone could stop him he seized the links
in his two fists, reached up and hauled down with a will.
No! Princess Thefi shrieked. Ty! No!
She leaped forward, her arms outstretched.
The chain rattled down from the shadows, a mere bronze chain, clinking and clanking into a puddle of
bronze links on the stone floor.
And the monstrous idol moved. Groaning, spitting dust from its edges, it revolved. Beyond lay a round
opening, black as the cloak of Notor Zan.
By Havil, boy! said Nedfar. His face expressed anger and anguish. He shook his head as though to
clear away phantoms. Lobur the Dagger leaped forward. He clapped the young prince this Ty on
the shoulder in a familiar gesture of friendship.
Bravo, Ty! Well done! It is a Jikai prince, my prince, a veritable Jikai!
The shouts broke out then, of acclamation and, from us slaves, of heartfelt relief. Very soon we picked
up our bundles and burdens and followed the great ones into the tunnel with flaring torches to light our
going.
When the tunnel opened out into a proper stone corridor once more and we faced five doors, each of a
different size, and so halted to tackle the next problem, I made it my business to edge alongside one of [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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