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"The Sandreni deal with the scrapings of dirt under their own fingernails," said his uncle Taeri, who had drawn the blade from the back of his bootEven as he spoke, Taeri pulled his dagger free of Herado and smoothly, part of one continuous motion, sheathed it in his own heart
"One less Sandreni for your sky-wheels, Barbadian!" he taunted, gasping"Triad send a plague to eat the flesh from your bones He dropped to his kneesHis hands were on the dagger haft; blood was spilling over themHis eyes sought Tomasso's"Farewell, brother," he whispered"Morian grant our shadows know each other in her Halls
Something was clenched around Tomasso's heart, squeezing and squeezing, as he watched his brother dieTwo of the guards, trained to ward a very different sort of blow at their lord, stepped forward and flipped Taeri over on his back with the toes of their boots
"Fools!" spat Alberico, visibly upset for the first timeI wanted both of them alive!" The soldiers blanched at the fury written in his features
Then the focus of the room went elsewhere entirely
With an animal roar of mingled rage and pain Nievole d'Astibar, a very big man himself, linked his two hands like a hammer or the head of a mace and swung them full into the face of the soldier nearest to himThe blow smashed bones like splintering woodBlood spurted as the man screamed and crumpled heavily back against the coffin
Still roaring, Nievole grappled for his victim's sword
He actually had it out and was turning fake gucci watches to do battle when four arrows took him in the throat and chestHis face went dully slack for an instant, then his eyes widened and his mouth relaxed into a macabre smile of triumph as he slipped to the floor
And then, just then, with all eyes on fallen Nievole, Lord Scalvaia did the one thing no one had dared to doSlumped deep in his chair, so motionless they had almost forgotten him, the aged patrician raised his cane with a steady hand, pointed it straight at Alberico's face, and squeezed the spring catch hidden in the handle
Sorcerers cannot, indeed, be poisoned, a minor protective art, one that most of them master in their youthOn the other hand, they most certainly can be slain, by arrow or blade, or any of the other instruments of violent death, which is why such things were forbidden within a decreed radius of wherever Alberico might be
There is also a well-known truth about men and their gods, whether of the Triad in the Palm, or the varying pantheon worshiped in Barbadior, whether of mother goddess or dying and reviving god or lord of wheeling stars or single awesome Power above all of these in some rumored prime world far off amid the drifts of space
It is the simple truth that mortal man cannot understand why the gods shape events as they doWhy some men and women are cut off in fullest flower while others live to dwindle into shadows of themselvesWhy virtue must sometimes be trampled and evil flourish amid the beauty of a country gardenWhy chance, sheer rolex watches ladies random chance, plays such an overwhelming role in the running of the life lines and the fate lines of men
It was chance that saved Alberico of Barbadior then, in a moment that had his name half spelled-out for deathHis guards were intent upon the fallen men and on the taut, bleeding form of TomassoNo one had spared a glance for the crippled lord in his chair
It was only the fact, mercilessly random, that that evening's Captain of the Guard happened to have moved into the cabin on Scalvaia's side of the room that changed the course of history in the Peninsula of the Palm and beyondBy things so achingly small are lives measured and marred
Alberico, turning in a white rage to snap an order at his captain, saw the cane come up and Scalvaia's finger jerk upon the handleHad he been facing straight ahead or turning the other way he would have died of a sharpened projectile bursting into his brain
It was toward Scalvaia that he turned though, and he was the mightiest wielder of magic, save one, in the Palm in that hourEven so, what he did, the only single thing he could do, took all the power he had and very nearly more than he could commandThere was no time for the spoken spell, the focusing gestureThe bolt that was his ending had already been loosed
Alberico released his hold upon his body
Watching in terror and disbelief, Tomasso saw the lethal bolt whip through a blurred oozing of matter and air where Alberico's head had beenThe bolt smashed harmlessly into the wall rolex diamond watch above a window
And in that same scintilla of time, knowing that an instant later would be an instant too late, that his body could be unknit forever, his soul, neither living nor dead, left to howl impotently in the waste that lay in ambush for those who dared essay such magic, Alberico summoned the lineaments of his form back to himself
He had a droop to his right eyelid from that day on, and his physical strength was never again what it had beenWhen he was tired, ever after, his right foot would have a tendency to splay outward as if retracing the strange release of that momentary magicHe would limp then, much as Scalvaia had done
Through eyes that fought to focus properly, Alberico of Barbadior saw Scalvaia's silver-maned head fly across the room to bounce, with a sickening sound, on the rush-strewn floor, decapitated by the belated sword of the Captain of the GuardThe deadly cane, crafted of stones and metals Alberico did not recognize, clattered loudly to the groundThe air seemed thick and viscous to the sorcerer, unnaturally denseHe was conscious of a loose, rattling sound to his breathing and a spasmodic trembling at the back of his knees
It was another moment, etched in the rigid, stunned silence of the other men in the room, before he trusted himself to even try to speak
"You are dung," he said, thickly, coarsely, to the ashen captain"You are less than thatYou are filth and crawling slimeYou will kill yourselfNow!" He spoke as if there were sliding soil chanel jumbo xl bag clogging and spilling from his mouthWith an effort he swallowed his saliva
Ferociously straining to make his eyes work properly he watched as the blurry form of his captain bowed jerkily and, reversing his sword, severed his own jugular with a swift, jagged slashAlberico felt a froth of rage foaming and boiling through his mindHe fought to will an end to a palsied tremor in his left hand
There were a great many dead men in the room and he very nearly had been one of themHe didn't even entirely feel as if he lived, his body seemed to have reassembled itself in not quite the same way as beforeHe rubbed with weak fingers at the drooping eyelidHe felt ill, nauseousThe air was hard to breatheHe needed to be outside, away from this suddenly stifling lodge of his enemies
Nothing had come to pass as he'd expectedThere was only one single element left of his original design for the eveningOne thing that might yet offer a kind of pleasure, that might redeem a little of what had gone so desperately awry
He turned, slowly, to look at Sandre's sonHe dragged his mouth upwards into a smile, unaware of how hideous he looked
"Bring him," he said thickly to his soldiers"Bind him and bring himThere are things we can do with this one before we allow him to dieThings appropriate to what he was
His vision was still not working properly, but he saw one of his mercenaries smileTomasso bar Sandre closed his eyesThere was blood on his face and clothingThere would be more before they were 925 tiffany's necklace |
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