"Cook, Glen - The Black Company 06 - Dreams of Steel" - читать интересную книгу автора (Cook Glen)

“They had to harry the survivors from Ghoja ford. They’re the professionals, Sis. We said we wouldn’t secondguess or interfere. We didn’t believe they could win at Ghoja, so we’re way ahead. Give me details.”

“A pigeon isn’t a condor.” The Radisha made a face. “They marched down with a mob of liberated slaves, took Dejagore by stealth, destroyed Stormshadow and wounded Shadowspinner. But today Moonshadow appeared with a fresh army. Casualties were heavy on both sides. Moonshadow may have been killed. But we lost. Some of the troops retreated into the city. The rest scattered. Most of the mercenaries, including the captain and his woman, were killed.”

“Lady is dead? That’s a pity. She was exquisite.”

“You’re a lustful ape.”

“I am, aren’t I? But she did stop hearts wherever she went.”

“And never noticed. The only man she saw was her captain. That Croaker character.”

“Are you miffed because he only had eyes for her?”

She gave him a savage look.

“What’s Smoke doing?”

“Fleeing north. Blade, Swan, and Mather will try to rally the survivors at Ghoja.”

“I don’t like that. Smoke should’ve stayed down there. Rallied them there, to support the men in the city. You don’t give away ground you’ve gained.”

“Smoke is scared the Shadowmasters will find out about him.”

“They don’t know? That would surprise me.” The Prahbrindrah shrugged. “What’s he saving himself for? I’m going down there.”

She laughed.

“What?”

“You can’t. Those idiot priests would steal everything but your eyes. Stay. Keep them occupied with their idiot wall. I’ll go. And I’ll kick Smoke’s butt till he gets off it and does something.”

The prince sighed. “You’re right. But go quietly. They behave better when they think you’re watching.”

“They didn’t miss me last time.”

“Don’t leave me twisting in the wind. They’re hard to deal with when they know more than I do.”

“I’ll keep them off balance.” She patted his arm. “Go shock them with your turnaround. Work them into a wall building frenzy. Get benevolent toward whichever cult shows the most productivity. Get them cutting each other’s throats.”

The Prahbrindrah grinned boyishly. That was the game he loved. That was the way to accumulate power. Get the priests to disarm themselves.


Chapter Four
It was a bizarre little parade. At its head was a black thing that could not decide if it was a tree stump or someone weirdly built carrying a box under one arm. Behind that a man floated a yard off the ground, feet foremost, inelegantly sprawled. An arrow had pierced his chest. It still protruded from his back. He was alive, but barely.

Behind the floating man was another with a lance through him. He drifted a dozen feet up, alive and in pain, sometimes writhing like an animal with a broken spine. Two riderless horses followed him, both black stallions bigger than any war charger.

Crows by the hundred circled above, coming and going like scouts.