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.The branches of the trees caught them, like the hands of eager attendants.The wind swirled around the room in a furious vortex.Beyond the open doorway, all Hweilan could see was impenetrable white, like the heart of a blizzard.She tried to back away, but the air seemed to solidify and push them both forward.Hweilan forced her legs to move, fearing that if she didn't the gale would simply bowl her over and shove her along like a dry leaf across a snowfield.They staggered through the doors, and in the great rush of wind, Hweilan thought she could hear a cold, feminine laughter.The doors slammed shut behind them, and the fierceness of the wind began to abate.The whiteness surrounding them flowed and swirled in a hundred streams, condensing more and more tightly, until they joined into a single cycloneIn an instant, it stopped.Snow and frost fell to the ground with a million tiny rattles.Hweilan found herself in a wide room, with walls made of towering columns of ice in every shade of blue.They gave off a faint light.Before them, no more than five paces away, Queen Kunin Gatar stood in the midst of the last of the snowfall.Hweilan gasped at the sight of her.She'd expected a woman of her mother's age at the least, perhaps even her grandmother's.But the woman looking down upon her seemed scarcely past girlhood, her pale skin flawless, her hair swept back off her high forehead.Tight braids so black that the light reflecting off them shone blue were tucked behind high, pointed ears, and a hundred tiny diamonds—or perhaps they were bits of ice—sparkled in her hair.The queen's eyes were a blue so pale that the color simply seemed to fade into the whiteness beyond—and like Menduarthis's, they had no pupils.The fabric of her gown was gossamer fine, and the long strands of cloth dangling from her bodice and sleeves rippled and flowed in the eddying air currents of the room."Well met," said Kunin Gatar.Her voice was light but had hoarse edge, like new snow blown over hard frost."W-well met, my lady.""My lady?" the corner of the queen's mouth curled up in sardonic grin."Not yet.But we shall see."Chapter 18The scouts have returned, my lord," said Argalath."The Gap is passable.Not easy, mind you, but passable.Our forces should depart within four days, as planned.""They will be ready," said Guric.Guric looked up at the archway in front of him.Dwarvish runes ran from the floor, over the curve of the arch, and down again.The splintered remains of the oak door still littered the floor inside the archway.Guric could count on one hand the number of times he'd been down in the parts of the fortress where the dwarves made their homes—and he had never been down this deep."But," Guric continued, "we're not leaving Highwatch before I see Valia alive again.You must complete the rite.""My lord," said Argalath, "it is possible that the girl might be returned to us within four days." A moment's silence, then, "But she might not.""You heard me, counselor.I won't leave Highwatch until this is done.""Forgive me, my lord, but you must.To solidify your rule here, those houses sympathetic to Vandalar must be subdued before they have the chance to rally.And you must show your strength to the king.To allow our enemies to array against us—""I didn't do this to be king," said Guric, and he had to press down the urge to shove Argalath into the stone wall, again and again until he heard bones crack."I did this for her.Without her, none of the rest matters.""Valia will be restored to you.But unless we secure your rule here, you may find yourself branded an outlaw by summer.What kind of life will you be able to give her then?""I don't care how much faith you place in your acolytes.Jatara has already failed us.I won't leave Valia's fate in the hands of those savages.""Of course not, my lord.You must lead your army into Damara, but I will stay here to finish the rite.Once Valia is alive—"That was not the plan!" Guric stopped walking and faced Argalath.His plan had been simple in its brilliance.Secure Highwatch, then lead his forces through the Gap to Damara.' Ride up to a city or fort with an army at his back, then come '.forward under flag of truce to discuss terms, with Argalath and his guard as escorts.When the city's delegation came out under flag of truce, Argalath would use his spellscar to kill all but one of them.The conniving fops would simply topple dead from their horses.Guric would then smile and inform the lone survivor that if the city surrendered and swore loyalty to him, everyone would be spared.But any who resisted would be instantly killed, just like these poor fellows.Absurd, of course.Argalath's spellscar actually held very little power.Using it, he could move objects with his mind.But only very small objects.Anything much larger than a flagon pained him.Put wine in the flagon and it could leave him bedridden and blind for days.But he had discovered something about the human body.A blood vessel below the brain was far, far smaller than a flagon—and much more flexible.Squeeze it shut, and a man would fall senseless in moments.Keep it closed and he would soon be quite dead.A simple trick.It took very little power.But power carefully applied could prove deadly.Still, using it against even a half-dozen people at once tired him greatly.The threat of using it against an entire populace.impossible.Argalath would be hard-pressed to use it against twenty people at once, and never at a great distance.Afterward, he might well be blind for days, and scarcely able to move.But the good people of Damara did not know that.Reality and perception were two different things.As long as their ruse remained a secret—and none knew beyond Guric and Argalath's bodyguards—it gave his counselor a dreaded reputation.One they hoped to use to subdue Guric's enemies with very little bloodshed.Guric wouldn't begin with the great castles or larger cities, of course, which were likely to have several wizards among their defenders [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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