Warlock - Cook Glen Charles (читаем книги .txt) 📗

I cannot give you that, mistress. My conscience will not permit it. There is bloodfeud involved. You would betray all those sisters who have perished.

Damned stubborn savage. Put aside your primitive ways. We are not living in the upper Ponath. This is the real world. Allowances and adjustments have to be made.

Wrong.

I did not want it to come to this, pup.

Marika felt the otherworld stir. She was not surprised, nor even much frightened. The moment seemed destined.

She did not try her loophole. It was too late for that. She did what silth never seemed to expect. She squeezed the trigger of the rifle she had not returned to safety. The entire magazine hammered the air.

Gradwohl separated from her saddleship and tumbled toward the river.

Marika! Damn you, Jiana! Then the sensing of Gradwohl vanished into a fog of pain. And then that spark went out.

Marika circled twice, fixing the spot in her mind. Then she went on, composing herself for Maksche.

II Marika had nothing left when she brought the saddleship down on the airstrip near Bagnel's quarters, Kublin still limp across its neck. Someone came out, recognized her, shouted back inside. In a moment Grauel limped forth. She reached out feebly, far too slowly, as Marika slipped off and fell to the concrete. "You're still here," Marika rasped.

"Yes." Grauel tried to lift her to her feet, could not. More meth gathered around. Marika recognized faces she had not seen last visit. Somehow, Grauel had assembled some survivors. "The most senior told us to remain."

"Gradwohl. Where is she?"

"She went looking for you."

"Oh. I got them, Grauel. Every one of them."

"Take her inside," Grauel told the others. "Where did you find him?" She indicated Kublin.

"With them. He may have been one of their commanders."

"Oh."

"Yes."

"Give her the chaphe," Grauel ordered as they entered the building.

"Grauel ... "

"The most senior's orders, Marika. You get two days of enforced rest."

Marika surrendered. She did not have the strength to resist.

Several times she wakened, found Grauel nearby. She told the huntress about the brethren base in snatches. Grauel did not seem much interested. Marika allowed the enforced rest to continue, for she had stretched herself more than she had realized. But the third night she refused the drug. "Where is the most senior? Enough is enough. Things are happening and we are out of touch."

"She has not returned, Marika. I have become concerned. Sisters from TelleRai were here this morning, seeking her. I had thought she might have gone there."

"And?" Time to be cautious. Time to have a care with Grauel, who persisted in using the formal mode.

"They flew west, seeking some trace. I believe they called for more darkships to join in the search. They were very worried."

"Why?"

"The ... You do not know, do you? A convention of the Communities has been called to bring the Serke and brethren to account. The most senior must be there. The Reugge are the principal grievants."

Marika struggled up from her cot. "That's happening? Gradwohl is missing? And you've kept me drugged? Grauel, what ... ?"

"Her orders, Marika."

"Orders or not, that's over. Bring me food. Bring me fresh clothing. Bring me my weapons and prepare my saddleship."

"Marika ... "

"I have to go to TelleRai. Someone has to represent the most senior's viewpoint. Someone has to be there if the worst has happened. If the brethren have slain her and the wrong sisters hear of it first, her whole dream will die. Get me out of here, Grauel. I'll send for you as soon as I get there."

"As you command."

Marika did not like Grauel's tone. She let it slide. "How is Barlog doing?"

"Recovering. The most senior was able to save her."

There was an accusation behind those words. "I am sorry, Grauel. I was not myself that day."

"Are you ever, Marika? Are you now? Have you slaked your blood thirst yet?"

"I think so."

"I hope so. They say this convention is an opportunity to end what has been happening. I would not want to see it fail."

"How are Bagnel and Kublin doing?"

"Bagnel is recovering nicely. The most senior treated him, too, inasmuch as he seems to be the sole surviving Brown Paw Bonder from this enclave. Kublin is in chains. There were those who wanted to do him injury. I have protected him."

"Maybe you shouldn't have. I'm not sure why I brought him in. When the darkship comes, bring him to TelleRai. He may prove useful during the convention."

"Perhaps."

"What is the matter, Grauel? I feel ... "

"I fear you, Marika. Since you returned from this vengeance, even I can see the look of doom upon you. And I fear you the more because Gradwohl is not here to temper your ferocity."

"Be about your business, Grauel." Marika stood. Her legs were weak. She ducked through her loophole to check her grasp of the otherworld, fearful she might not be strong enough to get to TelleRai in time.

She would manage. She was not weak in her grasp of the dark.

She visited Bagnel briefly. He apologized again. "It was despicable," she agreed. "But I think we're about to conclude that era. Keep well, Bagnel." Outside, as she prepared to mount her saddleship, Marika told Grauel, "Bring Bagnel, too."

"Yes, mistress."

Marika looked at Grauel grimly. She did not like it when the huntress took the formal mode. It meant Grauel did not approve.

Irked, she lifted the saddleship without another word.

She sped southward, paused briefly where Gradwohl had gone down. She found no trace of the most senior's body. She did find Gradwohl's saddleship, broken, in a tree. She dragged it out, dismantled it, threw the pieces into the river. Let them become driftwood, joining other flotsam come down from the dying north.

The sisters at TelleRai were not pleased with her advent. Many had hoped she had perished in the raid. More feared the most senior had perished sometime afterward. They dreaded the chance the savage northerner would lay claim to the most senior's mantle.

As strength goes. They were convinced none could challenge the outlander.

"I will not replace the most senior," Marika told anyone who would listen. "It has never been my wish to become most senior. But I will speak for Gradwohl till she returns. Her mind is my mind."

Word of what had happened at the enclave in the wilderness had reached TelleRai. Though Marika did not claim responsibility and no one made direct accusations, there were no doubts anywhere who had been responsible for the slaughter. Terror hung around her like a fog. No one would dispute anything she said.

Grauel and Barlog, Kublin and Bagnel arrived a day after Marika, near dawn, with the first group of survivors brought out of the ruins of Maksche. Marika had insisted that every survivor, including workers and Reugge bonds, be evacuated south. That earned her no friends, for it would strain the resources of the TelleRai cloister.

Barlog was somewhat recovered. She was not pleasant at all when Marika visited her.

There was a small fuss when Marika insisted Bagnel be assigned guest quarters. She had Kublin imprisoned. She did not visit him.

Grauel and Barlog retired to their new quarters to rest, or to hide. Marika was not certain which. They were attached to Marika's own, where she paced outside their door, wondering what she could do to recover their goodwill.

Someone knocked on the apartment door. Marika answered it, found a novice outside. "Yes?"

"Mistress, second Kiljar of the Redoriad wishes to speak with you."

"Is she here?"

"No, mistress. She sent a messenger. Will there be any reply?"

"Tell her yes. The second hour after noon, if that is convenient. In the usual place. She will understand what I mean."