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.About this, they would now speak.*****When Phair Caron entered her tent, Tramd turned from me map pinned to the north wall.He had beenstudying it, his head thrust a little forward, his shoulders a little hunched.All of Silvanesti lay upon that map,the burned reaches and the forest beyond."My lady," said the mage, whom the elves of the northern border feared, whom the members of thedragonarmy itself did fear."I am here as you asked."Outside, the sound of the army was the sound of an ocean, ebbing and flowing, five thousand voicesmingling with ten thousand more, undercurrents of ringing mail, blades belling on blades as warriorspracticed their skills.The song of her army! Phair Caron set her dragon helm on the small table, strapswhispering against the rough wood, steel ringing faintly in the musty air.She hooked a stool with one foot,dragged it behind the table, then sat.In silence she looked at the mage, leveled a long blue stare at thehandsome face he showed her.Tall as a barbarian Plainsman, he wore a human shape today.His hairmatched hers in thickness and in golden color, and the beard he wore grew long to the belt of his black robe.Phair Caron smiled, but only to herself, only inwardly.Shaped like a man, a woman, an ogre, adraconian, whatever guise he liked, this mage was no shapeshifter.He was a dwarf.His gesturessometimes showed it, his expression and turns of phrase often bespoke it.He wore avatars the way acourtier wore his fabulous wardrobe, each scraped up from the earth itself, by magic shaped of clay andstone, each chosen exactly for the occasion.And so, Tramd did not, in fact, stand here beside her.Thisavatar was only a lifeless creation enlivened by the mind of a mage who lived in a far place Phair Caron hadnever seen.Nor had she ever encountered him in his true form.He would never permit it.Those whothought they saw him, saw what the mage wished to be seen, and if his whim decreed that anything of histrue physical existence be presented, it was only his voice."I looked for you, Tramd.This morning when the captains came to give me their reports of yesterday'sbattle, I thought you would be among them."A voice shouted outside.Nearby someone cursed, but the curse suddenly cut off.The scent of bloodhung thick on the air.Phair Caron didn't look around, and into her stony stare Tramd shrugged, a smallgesture."I had other business."A frisson of anger raced through her."Indeed.It seems you have had other business often."Tramd raised an eyebrow."If you want to ask about my business, ask.You'll get the same reply I alwaysgive: Your business is yours, and I will make it mine because you ask.My business is mine, and no oneneeds to make it their own."A dark-cased insect crept across the floor—a beetle of some kind and nearly half the size of her palm.Absently, Phair Caron crushed it, smiling to hear the crackle of its shell bursting.She lifted her booted foot tolook at the mess, satisfied."Careful, Tramd.You're not quite right in your statements.You make mybusiness yours because it suits you to go throughout Krynn with my army.Times might change, my friend,and you might find it doesn't suit me to have you here."The avatar's handsome face remained quietly calm, and his green eyes glittered."Times always change,my lady.I don't worry about that."His coolness irritated her.She traced the winding pattern on her dragon helm, a line to suggest the tail ofa dragon.Eyes narrowed, she stared at the avatar of a mage whom she had never seen.A pile of rottingflesh with a keen-edged mind, that's what rumor said of Tramd o' the Dark.Sometimes in the night shewould recall the tale, and that story made even her shudder.There are tests mages take if they want to bemore than hedge-wizards, more than mere peddlers of love potions and salves to banish warts.No one hadever said the tests were easy ones.Still, how many who spoke so blithely of those tests understood howtruly terrible they could be? Not many.Tramd, wherever the man himself did stay, knew how terrible.It wassaid—and he never denied it—that his body was ruined in the tests, so badly ravaged that only magic andthe will of a mind so powerful kept him living.As though idly, Phair Caron said, "Can't you wait till the conquering is done before you begin searchingfor loot?"Blood mounted to Tramd's bearded cheeks.That characterization of his quest was an insult."Lady, youpush me—"On the hilltops, dragons bugled, the mighty reds shouting to one another, preening, strutting, anxious forbattle.One flew overhead, and a dark shadow ran on the ground, rippling on the walls of the tent.PhairCaron felt their eagerness as her own."Enough!" she snapped."It is you who push me.From now on, you leave my army when I tell you to.Youdon't come and go at your own will.The campaign will move faster now.The elves are throwing all theyhave at the border, and all they have isn't going to be enough.We'll be striking harder and more often.Ineed you here."He said nothing for a long moment, yea or nay, as another dragon flew over—and then another, theirshadows tangling on the leather tent walls.When he looked up, his eyes gleamed coldly, a man who hasweighed matters and decided what to do."As you will, my lady.Now, there is a small matter to discuss.One," he said smoothly, "that repeatedly comes to my attention as I go among the army."When she gestured, he stepped around the table to the map pinned to the tent wall, the dragon shadowsspinning webs of shade across his back.With one sweeping gesture, he indicated all of Silvanesti."We'vewon some battles here, my lady.And yet we hang back, keeping to the tors."She shrugged."And?""And the army wonders when we will move into the forest."Phair Caron laughed."Looking for more loot than can be found in little villages, are they? Heads all filledup with the fabled treasures of elven cities?" She turned her head and spat."I don't care [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]