[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
Ben breathed deeply, chasing the spots that danced before his eyes, waiting for the strength that had
been sapped by his flight to return. Oh, yes, he had run. He had flown! It frightened him that he had
allowed himself to panic like that. He breathed, deep and slow, refusing to look back again at the dark
and misted forests that rose like a wall behind him. He was safe now. He was home.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
The words were a litany that soothed him. He let his eyes lift skyward and pass down again across the
length and breadth of Landover, comforted by the unexpected sense of familiarity he experienced. How
strange that he should feel this way, he marveled. His passing back was like the passing from winter's
slow death to spring's life. Once he would never have believed he could feel this way. Now it seemed the
most logical thing in the world.
It was closing on midday. He walked down from the valley's rim to the campsite where he had left his
escort. They were waiting for him and accepted his return without surprise. The captain greeted him with
a salute, brought Jurisdiction around, got his men mounted, and they were on their way. From a world of
jet liners and limousines to a world of walking boots and horses Ben found himself smiling at how
natural the transition seemed.
But the smile was a brief one. His thoughts returned to the dreams that Questor, Willow, and he had
shared and the nagging certainty that something was very wrong with those dreams. His had been an
outright lie. Had those of Questor and Willow been lies as well? His was tied in some way to Meeks
he was almost certain of it. Were those of Questor and Willow tied to Meeks as well? There were too
many questions and no answers in sight. He had to get back to Sterling Silver quickly and find his friends.
He reached the castle before nightfall, pressing for a quicker pace the entire way. He scrambled down
from his horse, gave the escort a hurried word of thanks, called for the lake skimmer, and crossed
quickly to his island home. Silver spires and glistening white walls beamed down at him, and the warmth
of his home mother reached out to wrap him close. But the chill within him persisted.
Abernathy met him just inside the anteway, resplendent in red silk tunic, breeches and stockings, white
polished boots and gloves, silver-rimmed glasses, and appointment book. There was irritation in his
voice. "You have returned none too soon, High Lord. I have spent the entire day smoothing over the
ruffled feelings of certain members of the judiciary council who came here expressly to see you. A
number of problems have arisen with next week's meeting. The irrigation fields south of Waymark have
sprung a leak. Tomorrow the Lords of the Greensward arrive, and we haven't even looked at the list of
concerns they sent us. Half-a-dozen other representatives have been sitting about..."
"Nice to see you again, too, Abernathy," Ben cut him off in midsentence. "Are either Questor or Willow
back yet?"
"Uh, no, High Lord." Abernathy seemed at a momentary loss for words. He trailed along silently as Ben
moved past him toward the dining hall. "Did you have a successful trip?" he asked finally.
"Not very. You're certain neither has returned?"
"Yes, High Lord, I am certain. You are the first one back."
"Any messages from either?"
"No messages, High Lord." Abernathy crowded forward. "Is something wrong?"
Ben did not slow. "No, everything is fine."
Abernathy looked uncertain. "Yes, well, that is good to know." He hesitated a moment, then cleared his
throat. "About the judiciary council's representatives, High Lord...?"
Ben shook his head firmly. "Not today. I'll see them tomorrow." He turned toward the dining hall and left
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Abernathy at the door. "Let me know the minute Questor or Willow returns no matter what I'm
doing."
Abernathy pushed his glasses further up his long nose and disappeared back down the passageway
without comment.
Ben ate a quick meal and climbed the stairs to the tower that held the Landsview. The Landsview was a
part of the magic of Sterling Silver, a device that gave him a quick glimpse into the happenings of
Landover by appearing to allow him to fly the valley end to end. It was a circular platform with a silver
guard rail that looked out from the tower through an opening in the wall that ran ceiling to floor. A lectern
fastened on the guard rail at its midpoint. An aged parchment map of the kingdom was pinned to the
lectern.
Ben stepped up onto the platform, fastened both hands firmly to the guard rail, fixed his eyes upon the
map, and willed himself northward. The castle disappeared about him an instant later, and he was sailing
through space with only the silver railing and the lectern for support. He sped far north to the mountains
of Melchor, swept across their heights and down again. He sped south to the lake country and Elderew,
the home city of the people of the River Master. He crisscrossed the forests and hills from one end of the
lake country to the other. He found neither Questor Thews nor Willow.
An hour later, he gave it up. His body was drenched with sweat from the effort, and his hands were
cramped from gripping the railing. He left the tower of the Landsview disappointed and weary.
He tried to soak the weariness and disappointment away in the waters of a steaming bath, but could not
come entirely clean. Images of Meeks haunted him. The wizard had lured him back with that dream of
Miles; Ben was certain of it and was also certain that the wizard had some plan in mind to gain revenge
on him for Meeks' exile. What Ben was not certain about was what part the dreams of his friends played
in all this and what danger they might be in right now because of it.
Night descended, and Ben retired to his study. He had already decided to send out search parties for
both his missing friends by morning. Everything else would have to wait until he solved the mystery of the
dreams. He was becoming increasingly convinced that something was terribly wrong and that he was
running out of time to set it right again.
Evening deepened. He was immersed in catching up on the paperwork that had piled up during his
absence when the door to his study flew open, a sudden gust of wind scattered the stacks of documents
he had arranged carefully on the work table before him, and the gaunt figure of Questor Thews stalked
out of the darkness into the light.
"I have found them, High Lord!" Questor exclaimed with an elaborate flourish of one arm, a
canvass-wrapped bundle clutched to his chest with the other. He crossed to where Ben was working and
deposited the bundle on the table with a loud thump. "There!"
Ben stared. A rather bedraggled Bunion trudged through the door behind him, clothes torn and muddied.
Abernathy appeared as well, nightshirt twisted and night-cap askew. He shoved his glasses in place and
blinked.
"It was all just exactly as the dream promised," Questor explained hurriedly, hands working at the
canvass wrapping. "Well, not quite as promised. There was the matter of the demon imp hidden in the
stonework. A nasty surprise, I can tell you. But Bunion was its equal. Took it by the throat and choked
the life out of it. But the rest was just as it was in the dream. We found the passages in Mirwouk and
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
followed them to the door. The door opened, and the room beyond was covered with stonework. One
stone had the special markings. It gave at the touch, I reached down and..."
"Questor, you found the missing books?" Ben asked incredulously, cutting him short. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl szamanka888.keep.pl
Ben breathed deeply, chasing the spots that danced before his eyes, waiting for the strength that had
been sapped by his flight to return. Oh, yes, he had run. He had flown! It frightened him that he had
allowed himself to panic like that. He breathed, deep and slow, refusing to look back again at the dark
and misted forests that rose like a wall behind him. He was safe now. He was home.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
The words were a litany that soothed him. He let his eyes lift skyward and pass down again across the
length and breadth of Landover, comforted by the unexpected sense of familiarity he experienced. How
strange that he should feel this way, he marveled. His passing back was like the passing from winter's
slow death to spring's life. Once he would never have believed he could feel this way. Now it seemed the
most logical thing in the world.
It was closing on midday. He walked down from the valley's rim to the campsite where he had left his
escort. They were waiting for him and accepted his return without surprise. The captain greeted him with
a salute, brought Jurisdiction around, got his men mounted, and they were on their way. From a world of
jet liners and limousines to a world of walking boots and horses Ben found himself smiling at how
natural the transition seemed.
But the smile was a brief one. His thoughts returned to the dreams that Questor, Willow, and he had
shared and the nagging certainty that something was very wrong with those dreams. His had been an
outright lie. Had those of Questor and Willow been lies as well? His was tied in some way to Meeks
he was almost certain of it. Were those of Questor and Willow tied to Meeks as well? There were too
many questions and no answers in sight. He had to get back to Sterling Silver quickly and find his friends.
He reached the castle before nightfall, pressing for a quicker pace the entire way. He scrambled down
from his horse, gave the escort a hurried word of thanks, called for the lake skimmer, and crossed
quickly to his island home. Silver spires and glistening white walls beamed down at him, and the warmth
of his home mother reached out to wrap him close. But the chill within him persisted.
Abernathy met him just inside the anteway, resplendent in red silk tunic, breeches and stockings, white
polished boots and gloves, silver-rimmed glasses, and appointment book. There was irritation in his
voice. "You have returned none too soon, High Lord. I have spent the entire day smoothing over the
ruffled feelings of certain members of the judiciary council who came here expressly to see you. A
number of problems have arisen with next week's meeting. The irrigation fields south of Waymark have
sprung a leak. Tomorrow the Lords of the Greensward arrive, and we haven't even looked at the list of
concerns they sent us. Half-a-dozen other representatives have been sitting about..."
"Nice to see you again, too, Abernathy," Ben cut him off in midsentence. "Are either Questor or Willow
back yet?"
"Uh, no, High Lord." Abernathy seemed at a momentary loss for words. He trailed along silently as Ben
moved past him toward the dining hall. "Did you have a successful trip?" he asked finally.
"Not very. You're certain neither has returned?"
"Yes, High Lord, I am certain. You are the first one back."
"Any messages from either?"
"No messages, High Lord." Abernathy crowded forward. "Is something wrong?"
Ben did not slow. "No, everything is fine."
Abernathy looked uncertain. "Yes, well, that is good to know." He hesitated a moment, then cleared his
throat. "About the judiciary council's representatives, High Lord...?"
Ben shook his head firmly. "Not today. I'll see them tomorrow." He turned toward the dining hall and left
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Abernathy at the door. "Let me know the minute Questor or Willow returns no matter what I'm
doing."
Abernathy pushed his glasses further up his long nose and disappeared back down the passageway
without comment.
Ben ate a quick meal and climbed the stairs to the tower that held the Landsview. The Landsview was a
part of the magic of Sterling Silver, a device that gave him a quick glimpse into the happenings of
Landover by appearing to allow him to fly the valley end to end. It was a circular platform with a silver
guard rail that looked out from the tower through an opening in the wall that ran ceiling to floor. A lectern
fastened on the guard rail at its midpoint. An aged parchment map of the kingdom was pinned to the
lectern.
Ben stepped up onto the platform, fastened both hands firmly to the guard rail, fixed his eyes upon the
map, and willed himself northward. The castle disappeared about him an instant later, and he was sailing
through space with only the silver railing and the lectern for support. He sped far north to the mountains
of Melchor, swept across their heights and down again. He sped south to the lake country and Elderew,
the home city of the people of the River Master. He crisscrossed the forests and hills from one end of the
lake country to the other. He found neither Questor Thews nor Willow.
An hour later, he gave it up. His body was drenched with sweat from the effort, and his hands were
cramped from gripping the railing. He left the tower of the Landsview disappointed and weary.
He tried to soak the weariness and disappointment away in the waters of a steaming bath, but could not
come entirely clean. Images of Meeks haunted him. The wizard had lured him back with that dream of
Miles; Ben was certain of it and was also certain that the wizard had some plan in mind to gain revenge
on him for Meeks' exile. What Ben was not certain about was what part the dreams of his friends played
in all this and what danger they might be in right now because of it.
Night descended, and Ben retired to his study. He had already decided to send out search parties for
both his missing friends by morning. Everything else would have to wait until he solved the mystery of the
dreams. He was becoming increasingly convinced that something was terribly wrong and that he was
running out of time to set it right again.
Evening deepened. He was immersed in catching up on the paperwork that had piled up during his
absence when the door to his study flew open, a sudden gust of wind scattered the stacks of documents
he had arranged carefully on the work table before him, and the gaunt figure of Questor Thews stalked
out of the darkness into the light.
"I have found them, High Lord!" Questor exclaimed with an elaborate flourish of one arm, a
canvass-wrapped bundle clutched to his chest with the other. He crossed to where Ben was working and
deposited the bundle on the table with a loud thump. "There!"
Ben stared. A rather bedraggled Bunion trudged through the door behind him, clothes torn and muddied.
Abernathy appeared as well, nightshirt twisted and night-cap askew. He shoved his glasses in place and
blinked.
"It was all just exactly as the dream promised," Questor explained hurriedly, hands working at the
canvass wrapping. "Well, not quite as promised. There was the matter of the demon imp hidden in the
stonework. A nasty surprise, I can tell you. But Bunion was its equal. Took it by the throat and choked
the life out of it. But the rest was just as it was in the dream. We found the passages in Mirwouk and
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
followed them to the door. The door opened, and the room beyond was covered with stonework. One
stone had the special markings. It gave at the touch, I reached down and..."
"Questor, you found the missing books?" Ben asked incredulously, cutting him short. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]