Gemworld Read Online Free PDF Page B

presentation at court. And though his words were few, the vocabulary he wielded was impressive, bespeaking an education that was clearly out of place in that dank, filthy prison. Political dissident , Sal decided.
    Even the brothers’ accents were different. While similar, each accent had its own distinct flavor to it. Jaren and Reit had an almost Queen’s English accent, while Retzu did a very good Cockney, if not Australian.
    “Truth be told, I’d never have chosen this goat-kissing part of the world myself,” Retzu was saying. “Too bloody humid for my taste. If not for the constraints of my… employment… I’d prefer the rolling hills of the Norwood Isles any day, the verdant green blanketed in a thick, morning mist that would burn off at the merest hint of a summer sun. Growing up in Aitaxen did have its perks, I must say. But to be perfectly honest, the peak of Mount Ysre—”
    Reit gagged a bit on his slop—which Sal didn’t find all that surprising—and Retzu broke off abruptly, turning his attention instead to stabilizing his brother’s condition. Sal thought he caught a pointed glance from Reit, and an abashed response from Retzu, but the looks were fleeting, there and gone as if they never were. It gave Sal the distinct impression that Retzu had almost let slip some dread secret.
    “Where’s Aitaxen?” Sal asked, not wanting to lose the momentum of the conversation but not wanting to revisit this Ysre.
    “The seat of the Titan Rebellion,” Retzu intoned theatrically. “Half a world to the west and north, off the coast of the Northern Plains. Jaren grew up not a league from there himself.”
    “So Darsen’s Way is kinda like a suburb?”
    “What’s a… sub-herb?” Retzu asked, mouthing the word as if unfamiliar.
    “It’s a… village that depends upon a larger city nearby,” Sal answered, doing his best to explain what he thought should have been a household term.
    “Then, yes,” Jaren concluded. “Darsen’s Way is a sub-herb. It’s a farming community within sight of Aitaxen’s walls. We grow potatoes and carrots and the like. Nothing much to speak of,” he chuckled, “which is why my ascension caused so much stir.”
    “Ascension?”
    “Another time, perhaps.”
    “Well, where is Aitaxen?” Sal pressed. “Maybe if you can draw me a map, I’ll have some idea of where I am, and maybe even figure out how to get home.”
    “A map? What... do you mean a chart?” Reit suggested. “I saw a drawing of the coastline one time, but I don’t know how well I could replicate it.”
    “Whatever, man. I mean, any help would be better than none.”
    Reit raised an eyebrow quizzically, but did as Sal asked.
    The map he scrawled in the dirt was an approximation at best. It featured a single large landmass, with a huge inland sea on its western borders and a mass of islands to the southwest. “The Norwood Isles are in this area here,” he said, waving generally to the northwest of the inland sea. “And we’re in Schel Veylin… right here,” he added, stabbing his finger into the heart of the landmass.
    Not much, but it ’ s a start, Sal thought. Now for some proportions . “How far away would you say it is? How long would it take you to travel there?”
    The brothers and Jaren consulted each other with looks and shrugs. “What… about six weeks to either Bayton or Eastwind Delta, then another week or two by sloop?” Jaren offered, pointing out areas to the east and south of the inland sea.
    “Yeah,” Reit confirmed. “Or about a month and a half, if we crossed the Plains and picked up a fishing boat north of Guard.” He tapped the shoreline to the extreme northwest, much farther out than the six weeks to the nearer ports of call. Sal wondered at the time discrepancy, but his concerns took him in a different direction.
    He stared at the map for a moment, slack jawed. The proportions couldn’t be right. What the men were describing—what Reit had drawn—was no mere island