The Viper's Fangs (Book 2) Read Free Page A

his back but somehow seemed to be fleeing
from his forehead. They had gotten a little closer to escaping than what he
remembered. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”
    “It has been a while,” Hobart agreed. He paused to look
Angus over and made a quick assessment. “You’re paler than I remember.”
    Angus laughed and stepped aside. As he ushered Hobart into
his room, he said, “I’ve spent the whole winter cloistered inside these walls.
It will be good to get some sun again.” He paused and said, “I assume that’s
why you’re here? To tell me when we’re leaving?”
    Hobart nodded. “It is but a short trip,” he said. “Perhaps a
ten-day, two weeks at most. Giorge wants to gather fletching eggs.”
    “Fletching eggs?” Angus asked. “Whatever for?”
    Hobart laughed and said, “If you ever ate a fresh one, you
wouldn’t need to ask. They are a delicacy, and they roost four days’ ride south
of here.”
    “Isn’t it a bit early for egg-laying?” Angus asked. “There’s
still snow on the ground.”
    Hobart shrugged. “There may be snow here, but not in the
lower elevations. We’ll ride out of it in about two days. But it is a bit
early; most of the eggs will be gathered in about two or three weeks. We’re
hoping to get an early claim to avoid the squabbles that can happen.”
    “Claim?” Angus asked.
    Hobart nodded. “There won’t be many egg hunters out yet,” he
said. “Once they get there, they’ll lay claim to an area and it’s theirs for
the taking—unless someone wrests it from them. We should get there before most
of the egg hunters do, and that will give us a lot of area to choose from. It
will also mean there will be fewer eggs.”
    “There must be a lot of these fletchings,” Angus said, “for
there to be so many hunting their eggs.”
    “Yes,” Hobart agreed, “and we want to keep it that way.
There are strict limits to the number of eggs that can be taken. If there
weren’t, the fletchings would die off and there wouldn’t be any young to
replace them, and there would be fewer eggs to be had. But enough of this,”
Hobart said. “There will be plenty of time for questions on our ride there.”
    “All right,” Angus said. “When do we leave?”
    “Can you be ready tomorrow morning?” Hobart asked. “I know
it’s short notice….”
    Tomorrow! Angus frowned. So soon? He had
expected more notice than that, but it wasn’t that important. He had already
done most of the research he had set out to do, and what remained could be postponed
until they returned. “You said it was a short trip,” he said. “What will we do
afterward?”
    “We’ll return here,” Hobart answered. “Commander Garret is
planning to take a large patrol into The Tween to see if there are any other signs
of fishmen up on that plateau. He’d like us to go with them as guides. We’re
the only ones who can do it, but they can’t leave for at least another month. The
snow will still be heavy up there until then.”
    Fishmen , Angus thought, wishing he had found out more
about them. Why had they been so far from their home? Why had the dwarves
helped them? Why did they burn The Borderlands? “Any word from The
Borderlands?” he asked.
    Hobart slowly nodded. “A strange one,” he said. “The fishmen
didn’t attack last harvest, and the patrols that went into the Death Swamps came
back without making contact with them. It’s as if the fishmen had retreated
deeper into the swamps than the patrols were able to follow. Or,” he frowned
savagely and set his jaw, as if the thought were both difficult to form and
intolerable to say, “they aren’t there anymore.”
    Angus nodded. It was the same as what he had heard from
others. The harvest in The Borderlands had been reaped without any sign of the
fishmen. If it weren’t for their presence in the Angst Temple….
    “I will be ready in the morning,” he said. “When and where
would you like to meet?”
    “Will you need to prime for