[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
So you left it at the port.
Yes. He rubbed his eyes. I thought of bringing it, but I knew I didn t need a pulse-gun to make Eldri
behave. He tapped the pocket of his jacket. I did bring my smart-knife. But it won t help much against
an entire army.
Although his response didn t surprise her, she wished he had thought to bring the gun. It was true, a
pulse-gun was far more than he would need under most circumstances here, but someone in his position
had to look at every possible danger. She glanced over the hall, so full of people who hoped Eldri and
Garlin had a solution. What do you know about this Avaril fellow?
Eldri s people don t like him. They don t believe he has any right to a title his father lost. Brad paused.
He is a personable man if you can get past his hatred of Eldri s family. But the Dalvador people love
Eldri. The thought that Avaril would kill their Bard horrifies them.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
It horrified her, too. I wish we had your gun.
Brad spoke quietly. Lady Roca, I would do my utmost to defend you and the people here. But
attacking Avaril s men is another story. It violates so many interstellar contact laws, I can t even count
them.
Roca gave him a sour look. You Allieds have too many rules. Those warriors want to kill us. I would
shoot them now and worry about interstellar contact laws later.
Yes, you could kill a good number of them before they caught you or the gun ran out of power. Then
what? He spoke in a low, intent voice. One pulse-gun can t destroy an entire army, even one armed
with only swords and bows. You would be lucky to escape with your life, and it would be like stirring a
hornet s nest out there.
Roca winced at the image. She indicated Eldri and his advisers. What are they saying?
That we must prepare for a siege.
She made an incredulous noise. This is surreal.
No kidding.
Roca wasn t sure what he meant, but his tone mirrored what she felt. Why is Garlin frowning?
He and Shannar are talking about blocking the bridge.
Shannar?
He indicated the older man. Shannar Ervoria. He knows military procedures better than anyone else
here.
Have they considered destroying the bridge?
Brad leaned forward to catch their notice. When Eldri inclined his head, Brad spoke in Trillian. Shannar
answered, with Brad translating. The bridge is too solid to break.
Roca considered what she had seen. Eldri s people knew how to smith metal swords and tools. She
knew too little about forges to guess if the one here would have anything useful, but it was worth
checking. As much as she hated the thought of destroying that extraordinary bridge, they had to consider
it. Can they make explosives?
After Brad translated, much discussion took place. Finally he said, It doesn t sound like it.
Perhaps you can help them make some. Roca said. Gunpowder, maybe?
What is gunpowder ? Eldri asked in English.
For a bomb, sort of, Roca said.
Garlin frowned. And what is bomb ?
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
You know, Brad said. Boom. Rocks and people go flying.
Garlin arched an eyebrow at him. Boom ?
We could pour burning oil, Eldri said. Or drop boulders.
With Brad translating, Shannar said, Oil might have uses. But we have no boulders here large enough to
affect that bridge.
I cannot see my people starve! Eldri pressed his palm against his breastbone. Then his eyes glazed and
he stared into space, his face blank.
The gray-haired woman leaned forward, her forehead creasing as she addressed Eldri in Trillian. He
showed no sign of hearing. Shannar started to speak, but Garlin held up his hand, motioning for silence.
They all waited.
Brad spoke under his breath in a voice only Roca could hear. What the hell just happened?
He had a seizure, she murmured.
Eldri blinked several times and looked around. Garlin and the others resumed their discussion, making an
obvious effort to act as if nothing had happened.
He has seizures? Brad asked.
Roca nodded. How well do you know Eldri and Garlin?
Garlin, well. We often play chess. He paused, rubbing his chin. Eldrinson comes by much less often.
He lives in seclusion, except when he sits as a judge or sings at festivals. His people say he is He
spoke a Trillian word. It sounded flat, without the chiming of Lyshrioli vocal cords. It means something
like touched by the gods.
She sighed. That seems to be what they call it here.
Call what?
Epilepsy.
His gaze widened. You think he has epilepsy?
Yes. I do. She watched Eldri, who was listening now while the others talked. A few days ago he had
a generalized tonic clonic seizure.
Good Lord. You mean agrand malattack?
She checked her node for English, but grand mal was under French. Big sickness? She found a better
explanation in her medical files. Yes, that is right. But that term isn t used by your doctors now.
I had no idea.
His condition looks serious to me, maybe life-threatening. I m not certain he can survive without
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
treatment.
I feel so damned helpless. Wehavethe technology to do wonders for these people, but our hands are
tied.
Roca felt her face flush. I am sorry for my comments at the port about the, uh the chocolate.
Ah, well. He looked weary. You had a point, even if I didn t want to see it. If we gave Eldrinson
medicines without fully understanding his condition, we could do more harm than good.
She knew he spoke the truth. But that mattered little right now. It could be a long time before they had
any means to help Eldri. Avaril might not have to kill the Bard at all.
Eldri s own body might do it first.
Part Two:
Siege
12
Miracle of Snow
The days passed, one after another, melting together for Roca into a dreamlike routine. Windward went
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]