The Starfollowers of Coramonde Read Free Page A

order,
deployed too thinly. Whether I can hold the center in this stress or not, and
let things fly apart, is more in question every day.”
    Springbuck
was in desperate need of dependable units and Gil had kept an entire Legion
busy with his hunt, but the American could feel only guilty apprehension. His
anxiety was that the young Ku-Mor-Mai would ask him to shelve the search
for Bey.
    Their talk
was interrupted by people summoned to the council, taking seats at an oval
table of gleaming spruce.
    There was
Ferrian, once Champion-at-arms of the Horseblooded, his long hair worn in the
high horsetail his people favored; and Van Duyn and Katya, just returned, with
Katya’s brother, the King of Freegate, Lord of the Just and Sudden Reach.
    Reacher was
only a few inches over five feet, but broad-shouldered and long-legged for
that. His hair was shades darker than Katya’s, his eyes not such a lambent
violet as hers. He wore fine mesh armor washed with gold for this state visit,
but chafed in it. He’d been raised on the High Ranges among fleet-footed
hunters, used to their sparse attire and their weapons, the cestus and
claw-glove. He was undefeated in battle, armed or unarmed, preternaturally
strong and fast. In exchanging greetings, he showed special enthusiasm for
Ferrian, an old companion. Katya’s arm was draped around her brother’s neck
affectionately.
    Gil waved and
said hello, but didn’t go to them. He and Van Duyn had no particular liking for
each other. Van Duyn considered the younger man irritating; Gil thought his
countryman too dour.
    Last to get
there was Andre deCourteney, the wizard who’d done so much to counter Yardiff
Bey. He merited esteem from all enemies of Shardishku-Salamá.
    He was squat,
balding, with a blue stubble on his heavy jowls. His arms and hands were matted
with wiry black hair; stray curls escaped his collar to lie at his throat. He
wore yeoman’s breeches and tunic, resembling a teamster rather than a renowned
wizard. The pudgy face was open and pleasant, though, and people had always
trusted what they saw there.
    “My sister
Gabrielle could not be found,” he explained, “and Lord Hightower seems also
unavailable. All others are here, I think.”
    Springbuck
had Van Duyn and the Snow Leopardess retell the devastation of the Highlands
Province. Concern came into each mien. Questions were posed. Gil, out of turn,
argued, “We’re wasting time. Only Andre and Gabrielle can go head-to-head
against Bey and those Druids.”
    Andre looked
surprised. “I do not believe Bey is there, though I am sure I am intended to
think so.” Gil’s expression grew chillier. “You are correct, I agree, in
reasoning that Bey fostered the attack. But with the Hand of Salamá, you must
never make those distressing leaps to conclusion. Ask, rather, ‘Where is the
deception here, where the trap?’” He smiled, barely. “I, too, learned that by
harsh experience.”
    Gil had been
overly irritated at the wizard. He reasserted self-control, wondering, What’s
wrong with me? His temper subdued, he said, “Okay then, let’s hear it.”
    The wizard
shook his head, jowls jiggling. “I have no theory, except that Yardiff Bey
would like to see my sister and me go north with this.” He pulled a chain from
his tunic. Suspended from it was a gemstone of changing colors in a silver
setting, the mystic jewel Calundronius, one of the deCourteneys’ prime
instruments. In close proximity, it negated all magic, dispersing all spells.
    “It would
please the Hand of Salamá,” Andre averred, “to see us take this into contest
with the Druids, but my thought is for alternatives. Where will Bey strike in
the meantime?”
    It was,
surprisingly, Reacher who answered. He didn’t often utter opinions, preferring
to listen, reserving comments in a shy way. Famous for cunning and prowess, he
was uneasy in groups of people.
    But he got to
his feet now, working mailed shoulders automatically. He wasn’t used to