Shadow's Son by Shirley Meier, S.M. Stirling and Karen Wehrstein ...

More documents

Recommendations

Info

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html "Raise yeh full copper," said the one-armed man. "Hey, boy of gold! Put my bet in for me." He must have a really good hand, Rasas thought, as he moved the copper chain from the man's pile to the center of the table,if he isn't even willing to let go of it to put his money in himself. Still, I didn't think a hand where none of the cards look like any of the others either in numbers of spots or color was any good… maybe it's because I'm not good enough at telling the symbols . Rasas wasn't sure where exactly they were, except that it was the basement of a decrepit country house, the foundation-stones seeping water, and out-city. He was supposed to stay in the basement, but sometimes they let him come upstairs where it was dry and warm. He could even sleep there, as long as it was in one of their beds—and he'd peeked out a crack in a shutter. Huge wide fields, such as he'd never seen before in his life, except in his dreams. "You know why we call you boy of gold?" one of the others said. There were five around the table,solas andfessas gone to seed and fat, with uncombed beards and stained jerkins. Watching them play, Rasas suspected they'd never had other skills, though when he thought about it he realized they must have. Patappas, for instance, would still be fighting if he had two arms. "Because you're going to make us all boys of gold!" All five burst out into guffawing, their loudness enhanced by the wine they were drinking. It was almost a ritual, the joke. The first time they'd said it, he'd had the sudden image of five gilt statues; then he'd understood, they meantrich . He'd heard stories of kidnappings before, of a favorite boy being snatched and held until his owner, pining for him, coughed up a huge ransom. He'd always thought it would be an adventure, imagining a handsome highwayman in satin and gold heaving him up over his noble destrier and galloping off into the country. While they were in hiding, the highwayman, struck by Rasas's plight, would change his mind and refuse to return him to Nuninibas, even when the lord, desperate, offered a million gold chains. The highwayman, who had dark eyes as well, would adopt Rasas as his son, kidnap and adopt Ardas as well so they really were brothers, and take them to his secret estate in Kassabria or Korsardiana. He'd teach them how to use a sword, and they'd raid evilAitzas and give the money to poorokas , like the green-dressed gang in the old story, and he'd be able to dress in suave satin instead of pleasure boy's lace. No one would ever smother him or Ardas again, and they'd live happily ever after. So he'd imagined it, at any rate. None of these men quite fit the part; for one thing, they had no noble destrier, only a bow-backed old pony with a tangled ragged mane. And they smelled, no surprise, since the house didn't have a bath. They'd go off somewhere to bathe only every few days, and he thought it must be in a river or lake nearby, like the lowest of the poor. He only bathed every few days too, when they brought him water, which made his hair itch and him feel base and worthless, but at least he didn't have that rank grown-up smell. Nor did they look about to refuse the ransom; rather, they slavered over the prospect of getting it, constantly. No matter; he'd just go home then and things would be as they'd been before. They hadn't hurt him much taking him. It had just been a big hand waking him up, torchlight in his eyes, and then arms hefting him up over a shoulder, though they had knocked out the dancing boys' quarters guards; he noticed them lying sprawled as he passed. He'd wanted to ask politely, "Sirs, will you take Ardas too, if you please? He doesn't weigh much, less than me," but they d threaten to slit his throat if he said anything (part of the whole tradition of kidnapping, he knew), so he hadn't. They'd put him in a flour-sack to get him up the cliff-lift. "Give your oath you won't move or make a sound, or we'll sap you," they'd said, so he had given his oath, and then kept it as he felt the lift raise him smoothly up.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html Now, he wasn't suffering unduly; they fed him enough that he wasn't hungry, played with him, taught him card tricks, and didn't make him serve them any more than Master's guests had; in fact, being lower-born, they were more gentle, never smothering him. The worst trouble he'd ever got into was when, standing behind Glikasonas at the card-table, he'd blurted, "Four cards that all have one spot, that's good, isn't it?", and there was good reason, he understood now, for that. He missed Ardas, sometimes desperately; but perhaps it was for the better, since, because the kidnappers weren't dashing highwaymen, the smaller boy might be frightened.I'll see him again, and O my Humble Serving God, will I have a story, heh heh ! And these fellows would be rich; he didn't mind that, really. They all looked as if they'd been poor longer than anyone should have to be. XIII She read it four times, disbelieving. The writer sounded sickeningly professional.His life and my cover are as vines … Arkan tradecraft talk: it meant this person was sending a sign back to his accomplices putting a stop order on enacting the threat at regular times, to preserve himself; if he died, the stop order wouldn't go through, and the kidnappers would…Lixand-mi. Sworn upon my poison tooth … Arkan operatives usually had them—Mahid operatives,always —and would use them if captured. That meant if she tried to haul him off to Ikal for truth-drugging, he'd die, the stop order wouldn't go through, and…Lixand-mi … Her mind ran through possibilities.Did I ever mention to anyone, his moles? There was no one she could remember. Abluff? Even if it is, the rokatzkknows damn well I have to assume it isn't, just in case . The old feeling of chains came, sofar and no further, slamming against bounds someone else set. Invisible chains of being poor, oak links and cuffs stapled to a solid plank floor, tight-pack on a Fehinnan slaver … Her eyes clenched shut as she tried to deny memories, feelings…No , she thought. I'd left those behind, I'd almost forgotten them . Her eyes snapped open at the next thought. Whoever left the note might be watching. Her gaze flicked from one nearby lounger to the next.I won't give him satisfaction. Him. It has to be a him, if it's an Arkan . She shook herself, as if shaking off all she was feeling, ran a smooth hand over her hair.Calm. Be calm. Be ice. I've been that before. Lady Koru, hear me, help me . She leaned back stretching, and got up to saunter casually over to the fire for another cup of chai, then back to the tent. Some part of her, the old, fearful Megan, longed to shriek and run straight into Shkai'ra's arms, wanted desperately to leave this all to someone else. She held onto the tentpole to steady herself.Calm. That part of me I know too well. I'll cry myself out when I have the luxury to, once Lixand is safe . Shkai'ra would be back before midnight, since the army would march tomorrow, no need to go running out to tell her. She sat down and forced her breathing calm, trying to reach for some of themanrauq exercises, cold, formal, comfortingly empty of the emotions rushing through her… "Kh'eeredo? Megan, what's the matter?" Shkai'ra, far earlier than she should have been here. Brought by a hunch, or what was left of the linking of minds they'd had on the ice last year, triggered by the Blue
Page 1 and 2:
Shadow's Son by Shirley Meier, S.M.
Page 3 and 4:
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converte
Page 5 and 6:
Page 7 and 8:
Page 9 and 10:
Page 11 and 12:
Page 13 and 14:
Page 15 and 16:
Page 17 and 18:
Page 19 and 20:
Page 21 and 22:
Page 23 and 24:
Page 25 and 26:
people around for camouflage, and t
Page 27 and 28:
Page 29 and 30:
Page 31 and 32:
Page 33 and 34:
Page 35 and 36:
Page 37 and 38:
Page 39 and 40:
Page 41 and 42:
Page 43 and 44:
Page 45 and 46:
Page 47 and 48:
Und now I vind dose two—Celestial
Page 49 and 50:
Page 51 and 52:
Page 53 and 54:
Page 55 and 56: Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converte
Page 77 and 78: X Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conver
Page 105: wounded only in the carts on march,
Page 157 and 158:
Page 159 and 160:
Page 161 and 162:
Page 163 and 164:
Page 165 and 166:
Page 167 and 168:
Page 169 and 170:
Page 171 and 172:
Page 173 and 174:
Page 175 and 176:
Page 177 and 178:
Page 179 and 180:
Page 181 and 182:
Page 183 and 184:
Page 185 and 186:
Page 187 and 188:
Page 189 and 190:
Page 191 and 192:
— Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
Page 193 and 194:
Page 195 and 196:
Page 197 and 198:
Page 199 and 200:
Page 201 and 202:
Page 203 and 204:
Page 205 and 206:
Page 207 and 208:
Page 209 and 210:
Page 211 and 212:
Page 213 and 214:
Page 215 and 216:
Page 217 and 218:
Page 219 and 220:
Page 221 and 222:
Page 223 and 224:
Page 225 and 226:
Page 227 and 228:
Page 229 and 230:
Page 231 and 232:
Page 233 and 234:
Page 235 and 236:
Page 237 and 238:
show all

Shadow's Son by Shirley Meier, S.M. Stirling and Karen Wehrstein ...

You also want an ePaper? Increase the reach of your titles

Delete template?

Save as template?