Loremaster - Palace Of Kings - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Thoron gripped Nevian's hand in parting. 'The sword is ready and honed to a razor's edge. Eagle Owl is perched, and eager to carry it!'
'Eagle Owl will hear the call,' Nevian whispered, taking the hilt of the sword and drawing it from its sheath, 'But age has
weakened the blade. Look how it chips and nicks against the granite wall.'
Nevian handed back the sword. 'Find DurondeD, the Armourer, show him the blade and he will reforge it strong enough to shatter stone.'
'Durondell is a legend!' Thoron answered. 'How can you find such a thing?'
Nevian smiled. 'If he has become a legend you must find the truth that the legend grew from and there have the blade reforged. Go now with the new morning and seek the forge of Durondell.'
Willow stood beside Nevian and, taking the magician's hand, he watched the crescent of Marchers, Gallopers and Archers slowly turn and spread out across the fields below the city. The Warhorses and the Border Runners fanned out beyond the furthest points of the crescent, running hard on the Nightbeasts' heels, following them into the wildlands where the people of Elundium seldom went.
Nevian sighed as if a great task had been completed and smiled down at Willow.
'The future of Elundium has gone beyond my sight but Fate will weave its webs and show us all its twists and turns in the fullness of time. Evening Star will come to you when the city is nearly rebuilt. She will bring her foal to the gates. Be ready for that day; be ready to ride and take only a stone searcher in your hand.'
'Will I ride on Evening Star?' asked Willow, looking up into Nevian's face.
'She will carry you,' Nevian cried, the rainbow cloak fading as the sun pa.s.sed behind towering rain clouds, 'and she will take you to the ends of the world!'
165.
Doul~ts in the Fortress of Ur~derfall
Esteron fretted and pulled at the hay piled in the manger.
Mulcade sat statue-still upon the king post beam and watched.
Merion the Healer was fussing at the ugly wound in the horse's side, touching the fine gold threads he had sewn across to draw the edges together after removing the Nightbeast spear blade.
'Many daylights' rest yet,' he sang in a high-pitched voice.
'But you will be as good as new.'
Esteron snorted, his ears flat against the sides of his head, and struck out impatiently at the stable wall.
Merion turned his head, making a disapproving sound with his tongue.
'Patience will heal the wound - bad manners will split it open again!'
Esteron neighed, shaking his head from side to side.
'How long, Healer?' Thunderstone asked, opening the stable door and giving Esteron a sugar slice he had kept. 'How long?'
'Many daylights, Lord, perhaps even a season or at most a sun. The spear blade had severed more than just flesh and the long road back to us only worsened the wound.'
Thunderstone sighed, taking Esteron's head into his arms; a season had pa.s.sed already and he feared for Thane's safety as he stood silently in the straw, worrying. His fingers moved beneath the heavy blue cloak he wore and touched the summer scarf, feeling the fine needlepoint Elionbel had sewn
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with silver and gold threads. The picture of the sun seemed almost to burn the tips of his fingers. 'We will keep it safe for his return,' he whispered, 'for it brings old legends to life.'
'Old legends, my Lord?' asked Merion, rummaging in his sack for an oiled cotton to dab at the wound. Thunderstone had forgotten Merion and his voice startled him.
Gruffly he answered, 'Don't you remember, old fool? The saying, "And his standard shall light the Causeway Field and
it will be the sign of the new King".'
Merion smiled blankly at Thunderstone, turned and pressed the oiled cloth to the wound.
'Fool!' muttered Thunderstone, leaving the stable and climbing to the highest gallery to clean the wick in the great lamp. Winter would soon be on them and still there was no word. What was happening beyond the Causeway Field and the dark trees of Mantern's Forest? What had happened to the great army Tombel and Thoron had led towards the Granite City? Closing the lamp he paced the gallery, watching the shadows lengthen as the sun dropped towards World's Edge.
'What news?' he shouted as he pa.s.sed the watching chair.
'News, Lord?' answered Tiethorm, startled back to wakefulness. '
Nothing but the whisper of the wind through the gra.s.ses of the Causeway Field and the murmur of doves on the high roof slates. The Greenway is an empty road, my Lord.'
167.
aAcross the Gra.s.slands to Clatterford
Kyot followed the sun, but no matter how hard he pressed Sprint the sun overtook him each daylight and sank in a ball of fire beyond World's Edge.
At evening time Sprint slowed at a touch on the rein and began to look for a place to rest. Kyot nocked an arrow on to the string and slipped noiselessly from the saddle, his eyes fixed on a gra.s.sland hare. The arrow sang, the hare twitched and cried out just once as the steel blade struck it down.
'Supper!' Kyot shouted, sending the two huge Border Runners out through the long gra.s.s to pick up the hare.
Darkness had fallen before Kyot had built a ring of dead wood in readiness against the Nightbeasts and lit a fire in the centre to cook his supper. Sprint stood close to the fire, his
saddle lying on the ground as a pillow for Kyot. .
'Elundium has limitless horizons,' Kyot said, pointing a nibbled hare bone out past the watchful dogs, back from their own hunting, into the darkness. 'No matter how far we travel the sun still seems just as far away. I always thought that World's Edge was just beyond the horizon, and that Clatter
ford would be less than a day's ride away.' ;
Sprint snorted, pulling at the rough gra.s.ses within their ring.
Rockspray hooted and lifted off Kyot's shoulder to hunt his supper in the darkness beyond the firelight, while the dogs yawned and settled down on either side of Kyot. He arranged six arrows in a makes.h.i.+ft arrow stand, their points thrust lightly into the ground a hand's reach beyond the saddle, but
168.
the seventh arrow he necked on to the bow, and thus armed he settled back, his head resting against the saddle, and tried to sleep. Beyond the firelight the gra.s.slands rustled in the soft night breezes. Rockspray hooted once and was silent. Sprint snorted and moved a pace in search of better grazing. Kyot opened his eyes and looked up at the stars. He felt so small, so tiny, so alone; a mere speck in the wild dark gra.s.slands that stretched away in every direction towards the flat black horizon. He s.h.i.+vered, pulled his cloak up around his ears and tried again to sleep but sleep would not come.