Gryphon in Glory Read Online Free PDF

added, but much was blank, and, upon that blank surface, his hand lay now, palm flat.
    “The answer lies here.” That he was so frank with me was enough to make me wary. It was not in his nature to share even the thin edge of his plans with another. Neither was it in him to be conciliatory, to ask instead of order.
    “Be a little more plain with me my lord!” During the time since I had at last accepted this man's orders I had gained I freedom of a sort—at high price. He could not overawe me any longer.
    “We have accomplished much.” That was not boast, but a matter of fact. “Our smiths have worked the metals that came out of the Waste—in spite of the danger. We have now many weapons better than any of us have ever seen. We gather men—but also we have lost.” Now the palm lying on the map clenched into a fist. “Still the invader ships land fresh troops. Oh, it is true that they have not advanced against us in force for a time. But that is not because we have held them. We can as yet only worry their flanks, strike a small blow here, another there. Though"—there was a faint satisfaction in his tone now—"they have at last learned the folly of pursuing us too far into land we know far better than they. Now"—he leaned forward a fraction—“ we have learned for certain something new—”
    When he paused I dared to strike in with a question. “Is it true they seek some mysterious power?”
    He shot me a glance so sharp and piercing he might have used the dart thrower on his belt.
    “So men talk openly of that?”
    I shrugged. “It was a story told even before I rode north. There must be some sane reason why Alizon harries us, when, if we are to believe the word of traders, there is nothing in this land to match theirs. We possess no treasure.”
    There was no deference in what I said. I spoke as equal to equal. Imgry was a force, yes, and those of the Dales might be very glad it was wielded for them. However, he no longer impressed me. I was, in a way, inner-walled against him now.
    He studied me with narrowed eyes. I think I had suddenly become a person, not a weapon ready to his hand. That impatience that lay ever close beneath the surface of his manner retreated a little. He considered me in a new way for I was not the boy who had gone to Ulmsdale—but a new factor to be fitted into the game.
    “Your hand,” I continued, “lies there upon the representation of the Waste. Is it there you believe your goal to be? No treasure in truth—but Power . . .”
    His expression did not change, but I had a sensation of fronting pure cold. Heat of anger was not for such a man, his rage would ape the icy breath of the Winter Dragon. I had prodded him then as I sat there, unmoved, drawing on my self-confidence. Why should I care that this Lord was ridden by ambition—to carry on great things if fate allowed? I was not of his kin.
    “Yes, it is the Waste—or what it can hold.” He had decided to accept me as I was. “We do not know what it may be. This much we have learned from more than one prisoner—the Hounds want something they must find or control. In their own land they face an ancient enemy—one they would devour as they have much of the Dales. This enemy—by their accounts—may be kin to our Old Ones. They were armed in turn by others who have some way of divining what they seek but not the manpower necessary to take it. The knowledge lies here!” His fingers turned inward, his nails scraped across the map as the talons of a hawk might grasp jealously held prey.

Joisan
    T HE MIST HUNG LIKE TAPESTRIES IN SOME GREAT HALL, SHUTTING IN the fire those two whose warmth and life it served. Now I was there also and oddly content in a way I had not been since that hour when Kerovan had turned his back upon me and ridden forth from Norsdale. I watching him go dry of eye, though weeping in my heart. That sorrow and fear had been my own and I would not allow any to see the signs of it. But here—it was