[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
Greenhands.
"I need some answers," Verhanna declared. "Who are you?"
"I have no name," was the mild answer.
"Greenhands, that's your name," said the kender. He clasped the elf's grass-hued
hand in both of his small ones. "Pleased to meetcha. I'm Rufus Wrinklecap, forester and
scout. And that's my captain, Verhanna. Her father is Kith-Kanan, the Speaker of the
Sun."
Greenhands seemed startled, even bewildered, by this flood of information.
"Never mind," said Verhanna, shaking her head. Awkwardly she put a hand on the
elf's bare shoulder. His skin was warm and smooth. When she touched him, Verhanna felt
a tingle shoot up her arm. She didn't know if it was due to some force passing between
them or if it was simply her own nervousness. Greenhands didn't seem to notice anything
odd.
Looking him directly in the eyes, Verhanna asked firmly, "Who are you? Really?"
He shrugged. "Greenhands."
A flush of irritation washed over the warrior maiden. She was intrigued by this odd
fellow and deeply grateful that he'd saved her life, but his naive and evasive replies were
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getting under her skin.
"I guess you'd better come with us," she stated. "My father would want me to bring
you to Qualinost."
"What about the slavers?" asked Rufus.
"This is more important."
Greenhands shook his head. "I cannot go with you. I must go to the High Place." He
pointed west, toward the Kharolis Mountains. "There. To find my father."
Verhanna's eyes narrowed, and her jaw clenched. Rufus intervened quickly. "It's not
so far off the track to Qualinost, my captain. We could swing by the mountains first. You
know," he said, changing the subject completely, "my father was a famous pot thrower."
Suitably distracted, Verhanna hitched the horse blanket up on her shoulders and
looked at her scout. "You mean he made pots threw them on a wheel?" she asked.
"No, he threw them at my Uncle Four-Thumbs. In the carnival."
Suddenly Verhanna realized Greenhands was no longer with them. He was twenty
paces away, loping along with the morning sun at his back. She called out for him to stop.
"You must stay with us!" she shouted.
Wind stirred his long, loose hair. He stopped, eyes fixed on the western horizon,
while Verhanna retired to a stand of trees to dress. Now that the perishing heat was over,
she donned her breastplate, childrons, and greaves over a fresh haqueton. Rufus did one
of his usual vaults to reach the broad back of his red-coated Thoradin mount, and together
they rode to where Greenhands waited.
"Do you ride?" Verhanna asked, returning the poncho to Greenhands. "There's room
behind Wart if you do."
"There's room for most of Balifor up here," opined Rufus.
Greenhands pulled the poncho on over his head. "I'll walk," he said.
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"It's a long way to the mountains," she warned, leaning on the pommel of her saddle.
"You'll never be able to keep pace with the horses."
"I'll walk," he repeated, with exactly the same intonation.
She shook her head. "Suit yourself."
They topped a low rise and were out of the shallow valley cut by the river and back
on the grass-covered plain. To the south, the blue humps of the Kharolis foothills were
plainly visible in the clear morning sky, but Greenhands went resolutely west.
So intent were Verhanna and Rufus on keeping their eyes on Greenhands that neither
bothered to look back at the riverbank. What had been a mud flat the night before was
now a blossoming meadow. Grass had sprung up knee high in a few short hours, and a
thousand colors of wild flowers bloomed where once there had been nothing but mud and
cattails. Moreover, this strange growth narrowed as it entered the upland. Eventually it
thinned to a point the exact trail where Greenhands trod.
* * * * *
The day wore on, and Greenhands showed no signs of tiring.
Verhanna and Rufus ate in the saddle, passing a water bottle back and forth between
them. Greenhands plucked a few stems of grass from the turf to nibble. He ate and drank
nothing else.
By mid-afternoon the novelty of watching the strange elf had worn off. Rufus lay
down on his horse's back, clasping his hands behind his head and shading his face with
his travel-worn hat. He gave his reins to his captain, and soon high-pitched snores
whistled from his lips. Verhanna nodded a bit, but she was too conscious of her duty to
falter and fought the sleep that tried to claim her.
Fatigue and the lingering shock of her healed goblin bite proved too strong, though,
and she, too, eventually nodded off. When her charger stumbled slightly over a gopher
mound, Verhanna jolted awake. Greenhands was no longer forging ahead on foot. The
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
warrior maiden reined in and looked back. In the high grass fifteen yards behind them,
the tall elf was kneeling.
"Wake up, Wart." She called to the kender. Yawning, Rufus sat up and caught his
reins as she tossed them.
"Hey," the kender said sleepily, "where'd all the flowers come from?"
Verhanna looked past Greenhands and saw the vast trail of blooms that widened as it
stretched out behind him. Not only flowers, but the dry prairie grass in the area had
grown a foot taller.
"Look you," she said, leaning down from the saddle. "What sort of magic is this?"
"Quiet," he murmured. "The children call me."
She bristled at his abrupt command. "I'll speak when I like!"
The strange elf's tense, prayerful posture suddenly relaxed. He inhaled deeply and
said, "They come."
Verhanna was about to make a rejoinder when a faint rumbling sound reached her
ears. Heavy vibrations in the ground caused her mount to shift his feet and stamp
nervously. Rufus sat up and called, "Captain, look!"
To the south, a dark brown line appeared on the horizon. It bulked larger and higher,
and the rumbling grew louder. Swiftly the brown mass resolved into elk thousands of
them. A gigantic herd, stretching far to the left and right, was coming straight toward
them. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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Greenhands.
"I need some answers," Verhanna declared. "Who are you?"
"I have no name," was the mild answer.
"Greenhands, that's your name," said the kender. He clasped the elf's grass-hued
hand in both of his small ones. "Pleased to meetcha. I'm Rufus Wrinklecap, forester and
scout. And that's my captain, Verhanna. Her father is Kith-Kanan, the Speaker of the
Sun."
Greenhands seemed startled, even bewildered, by this flood of information.
"Never mind," said Verhanna, shaking her head. Awkwardly she put a hand on the
elf's bare shoulder. His skin was warm and smooth. When she touched him, Verhanna felt
a tingle shoot up her arm. She didn't know if it was due to some force passing between
them or if it was simply her own nervousness. Greenhands didn't seem to notice anything
odd.
Looking him directly in the eyes, Verhanna asked firmly, "Who are you? Really?"
He shrugged. "Greenhands."
A flush of irritation washed over the warrior maiden. She was intrigued by this odd
fellow and deeply grateful that he'd saved her life, but his naive and evasive replies were
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
getting under her skin.
"I guess you'd better come with us," she stated. "My father would want me to bring
you to Qualinost."
"What about the slavers?" asked Rufus.
"This is more important."
Greenhands shook his head. "I cannot go with you. I must go to the High Place." He
pointed west, toward the Kharolis Mountains. "There. To find my father."
Verhanna's eyes narrowed, and her jaw clenched. Rufus intervened quickly. "It's not
so far off the track to Qualinost, my captain. We could swing by the mountains first. You
know," he said, changing the subject completely, "my father was a famous pot thrower."
Suitably distracted, Verhanna hitched the horse blanket up on her shoulders and
looked at her scout. "You mean he made pots threw them on a wheel?" she asked.
"No, he threw them at my Uncle Four-Thumbs. In the carnival."
Suddenly Verhanna realized Greenhands was no longer with them. He was twenty
paces away, loping along with the morning sun at his back. She called out for him to stop.
"You must stay with us!" she shouted.
Wind stirred his long, loose hair. He stopped, eyes fixed on the western horizon,
while Verhanna retired to a stand of trees to dress. Now that the perishing heat was over,
she donned her breastplate, childrons, and greaves over a fresh haqueton. Rufus did one
of his usual vaults to reach the broad back of his red-coated Thoradin mount, and together
they rode to where Greenhands waited.
"Do you ride?" Verhanna asked, returning the poncho to Greenhands. "There's room
behind Wart if you do."
"There's room for most of Balifor up here," opined Rufus.
Greenhands pulled the poncho on over his head. "I'll walk," he said.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
"It's a long way to the mountains," she warned, leaning on the pommel of her saddle.
"You'll never be able to keep pace with the horses."
"I'll walk," he repeated, with exactly the same intonation.
She shook her head. "Suit yourself."
They topped a low rise and were out of the shallow valley cut by the river and back
on the grass-covered plain. To the south, the blue humps of the Kharolis foothills were
plainly visible in the clear morning sky, but Greenhands went resolutely west.
So intent were Verhanna and Rufus on keeping their eyes on Greenhands that neither
bothered to look back at the riverbank. What had been a mud flat the night before was
now a blossoming meadow. Grass had sprung up knee high in a few short hours, and a
thousand colors of wild flowers bloomed where once there had been nothing but mud and
cattails. Moreover, this strange growth narrowed as it entered the upland. Eventually it
thinned to a point the exact trail where Greenhands trod.
* * * * *
The day wore on, and Greenhands showed no signs of tiring.
Verhanna and Rufus ate in the saddle, passing a water bottle back and forth between
them. Greenhands plucked a few stems of grass from the turf to nibble. He ate and drank
nothing else.
By mid-afternoon the novelty of watching the strange elf had worn off. Rufus lay
down on his horse's back, clasping his hands behind his head and shading his face with
his travel-worn hat. He gave his reins to his captain, and soon high-pitched snores
whistled from his lips. Verhanna nodded a bit, but she was too conscious of her duty to
falter and fought the sleep that tried to claim her.
Fatigue and the lingering shock of her healed goblin bite proved too strong, though,
and she, too, eventually nodded off. When her charger stumbled slightly over a gopher
mound, Verhanna jolted awake. Greenhands was no longer forging ahead on foot. The
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
warrior maiden reined in and looked back. In the high grass fifteen yards behind them,
the tall elf was kneeling.
"Wake up, Wart." She called to the kender. Yawning, Rufus sat up and caught his
reins as she tossed them.
"Hey," the kender said sleepily, "where'd all the flowers come from?"
Verhanna looked past Greenhands and saw the vast trail of blooms that widened as it
stretched out behind him. Not only flowers, but the dry prairie grass in the area had
grown a foot taller.
"Look you," she said, leaning down from the saddle. "What sort of magic is this?"
"Quiet," he murmured. "The children call me."
She bristled at his abrupt command. "I'll speak when I like!"
The strange elf's tense, prayerful posture suddenly relaxed. He inhaled deeply and
said, "They come."
Verhanna was about to make a rejoinder when a faint rumbling sound reached her
ears. Heavy vibrations in the ground caused her mount to shift his feet and stamp
nervously. Rufus sat up and called, "Captain, look!"
To the south, a dark brown line appeared on the horizon. It bulked larger and higher,
and the rumbling grew louder. Swiftly the brown mass resolved into elk thousands of
them. A gigantic herd, stretching far to the left and right, was coming straight toward
them. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]