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Goudeles hard; his round cheeks were red, and his eyes a little glassy. He nodded as if his head were on springs, bobble, bobble, bobble. "And that parable about what's-his-name, your king with the funny name. That took Bogoraz' high-necked pretensions down a peg, yes it did." He giggled. "Glad to help," Gorgidas said, warming to their praise. He remembered something he had caught in the arguments before the khagan and spoke it before he could lose it again: "Did you notice how Bogoraz slighted Avshar? Are there splits among the Yezda?" "Never a court without 'em," Goudeles declared loudly. "Even if there are, what use can we make of it here?" Skylitzes asked, and the Greek had to admit he did not know. "Not to worry about that, my dears," Goudeles said. His elegant syntax was going fast, but his wits still worked. "Now we got have an idea of where the clan elders stand, we throw gold around. Works pretty good, most times." He giggled again. "Wonderful stuff, gold." "It would be even more so if Bogoraz didn't have it, too," Gorgidas said. Goudeles snapped his fingers to show what he thought of that. The pony's muscles flexed between Viridovix' thighs as the beast trotted over the plain. The Celt held the reins in his left hand; the right was on the hilt of his sword. He tried to look in every direction at once. Riding to war, even in a scouting party such as this, was new to him; he was used to fighting on foot. The steppe's broad, flat reaches also oppressed him. He turned to Batbaian beside him. "What's the good of being a general, now, with the whole country looking all the same and not a place to lay an ambush in the lot of it?" "A gully, a swell of land to hide behind you use what you have. There's plenty, when you know where to look." The khagan's son eyed him with amusement. "A good thing you aren't leading us. You'd get yourself killed and Page 139 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html break my sister's heart." "Sure and that'd be a black shame, now wouldn't it?" Viridovix whistled a few bars of a Videssian love song. His soldier's alertness softened as he thought of Seirem. After so many women, finding love in place of simple rutting was an unexpected delight. As is often true of those whose luck comes late, he had fallen twice as hard, as if to make up for squandered years. "Och, she's a pearl, a flower, a duckling " Batbaian, who could remember his sister as a squalling tot, made a rude noise. Viridovix ignored him. "At least you have nothing to fear for her sake," the young Khamorth said. "With so many clans sending men to fight Varatesh, the camp has never been so large." "Many, yes, but not enough." That was Rambehisht, who led the patrol. As sparing of words as usual, the harsh-featured plainsman pierced to the heart of the matter. Targitaus' army grew day by day, but many clans chose not to take sides, and some few ranged themselves with Varatesh, whether from fear of Targitaus or a different kind of fear of the outlaw chief and Avshar. The scouting party's point rider came galloping back toward his mates, swinging his cap in the air and shouting, "Horsemen!" Viridovix' blade rasped free of its scabbard; the plainsmen he rode with unslung their bows and set arrows to sinew bowstrings. On this stretch of steppe other horsemen could only be Varatesh's. A few minutes after the outrider appeared, the patrol spied dust on the northwestern horizon. Rambehisht narrowed his eyes, taking the cloud's measure. "Fifteen," he said. "Twenty at the outside, depending on remounts." The numbers were close to even, then. The opposing commander must have been making a similar calculation from what he saw, for suddenly, before his men came into view, he swung them round sharply and retreated as fast as he could go. Batbaian let out a yowl of glee and punched Viridovix in the shoulder. "It works!" he shouted. "And why not, lad?" the Celt said grandly, swelling with pride as he accepted congratulations from the plainsmen. Even Rambehisht unbent far enough to give him a frosty smile. That truly pleased Viridovix, to have the man he had beaten come to respect him. Behind them, the six or eight cattle that accompanied the patrol took advantage of the halt to snatch a few mouthfuls of grass. Each of the beasts had a large chunk of brush tied behind it and threw as much dust into the air as a couple of dozen men. "The polluted kerns'll be after thinking it's whole armies chasin' 'em," Viridovix chuckled. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |