"Sara Douglass - The Axis Trilogy 1 - BattleAxe" - читать интересную книгу автора (Douglass Sara)

bowing low from the waist with unfeigned respect and tucking his hands inside
the voluminous sleeves of his habit, "perhaps it would help if we reviewed the
evidence for a moment. If we consider all the reports that have come in over the
past few months perhaps we might see a pattern."
Jayme nodded and waved both his assistants into the intricately carved
chairs that sat across from his desk. Crafted generations ago from one of the
ancient trees that had dominated the landscape of Achar, the well-oiled wood
glowed comfortingly in the firelight. Better that wood served man in this way
than free-standing on land that could be put to the Plough. Thick stands of trees
were always better cut down than left standing to offer shade and shelter to the
demons of the Forbidden.
"As always your logic comforts me, Brother Moryson. Gilbert, perhaps you
could indulge us with a summation of events as you understand them thus far.
You are the one, after all, to have read all the reports coming in from the north."
Neither Jayme nor Moryson particularly liked Gilbert; an unbrotherly
sentiment, they knew, but Gilbert was a rather pretentious youth from a high-
born Carlonite family, whose generally abrasive personality was not helped by a
sickly complexion, thin shanks and sweaty palms. Nevertheless, he had a razor-
sharp mind that could absorb seemingly unrelated items of information from a
thousand different sources and correlate them into patterns well before anyone
else could. He was also unbelievably ambitious, and both Jayme and Moryson
felt he could be better observed and controlled if he were under the eye of the
Brother-Leader himself.
Gilbert shuffled back into his seat until his spine was ramrod straight against
the back of the chair and
prepared to speak his mind. Both Moryson and Jayme repressed small
smiles, but they waited attentively.
"Brothers under Artor," Gilbert began, "since the unusually late thaw of this
spring," both his listeners grimaced uncomfortably, "the Seneschal has been
receiving numerous reports of...unusual . . . activities from the frontier regions of
Achar. Firstly from our brethren in the religious Retreat in Gorkentown, who have
reported that the commander of Gorkenfort has lost many men on patrol during
this last winter." The small municipality of Gorkentown, two hundred leagues
north, huddled for protection about the military garrison of Gorkenfort. Centuries
previously, the monarchy of Achar had established the fort in Gorken Pass in
northern Ichtar; it was then and remained the most vital link in Achar's northern
defences.
"One shouldn't expect every one of your men to come back from patrol
when you send them out to wander the northern wastes during the depths of
winter," Jayme muttered testily, but Gilbert only frowned slightly at this
interruption and continued.
"An unusual number of men, Brother-Leader. The soldiers who are stationed
at Gorkenfort are among the best in Achar. They come from the Duke of Ichtar's
own home guard. Neither Duke Borneheld, nor Gorkenfort's commander, Lord
Magariz, expect to get through the winter patrols unscathed, but neither do they
expect to lose over eighty-six men. Normally it is the winter itself that is the
garrison's enemy, but now both Duke Borneheld and Lord Magariz believe they
may have another enemy out there amid the winter snows."
"Has the Duke Borneheld seen any evidence for this with his own eyes,
Gilbert?" Moryson asked smoothly. "Over the past year Borneheld seems to have