Stormwarden Read Online Free PDF Page B

to speak.
    "Why have you come here?" The sudden question was an open challenge.
    The Stormwarden answered quietly. "I plead sanctuary."
    "Sanctuary!" The Kielmark closed massive fists over the arms of his chair. His eyes narrowed. "Sanctuary," he repeated, and his gaze moved over the blue robes and gold embroidery which made the request seem like mockery. "So. You present yourself as supplicant. Yet you do not bow."
    The sorcerers struggled to conceal rising apprehension. The interview had not opened in accordance with Tathagres' plan. And subtly Anskiere extended his appeal. He raised the heavy staff from his shoulder, laid it flat on the dais stair, and stepped back, empty hands relaxed at his sides.
    "I do not bow."
    The statement met silence cold as death. Shocked by the symbol of a sorcerer's powers relinquished, the men at arms all but stopped breathing. But the staff on the stair roused nothing but calculation on the Kielmark's florid face. His attention shifted to the sorcerers, and in their bland lack of reaction found discrepancy. His lips tightened. "Warden, your colleagues seem strangely unimpressed by your gesture."
    Anskiere shrugged. "These?"
    The sorcerers shifted uneasily as his simple gesture framed them.
    "They are none of mine, Eminence," said Anskiere softly.
    The Kielmark sat suddenly forward, brows arched upward. "Not yours? Then why are they here?"
    Anskiere met his glare. "Let them speak for themselves."
    "Ah," said the Kielmark. He settled back, keenly interested, and laced his knuckles through his beard. Almost inaudibly, he said, "What have you brought us, Sorcerer?"
    The Stormwarden made no effort to answer. The sorcerers, also, chose silence. For a lengthy interval, nothing moved in the chamber but the flies which threaded circles through the single square of sunlight on the floor.
    "What happened at Tierl Enneth?" said the Kielmark. His manner was guarded, and his voice dangerously curt.
    Anskiere stayed utterly still, but something in his attitude seemed suddenly defensive. Although at Cliffhaven his reply would be judged with no thought for morality, he answered carefully. "I was betrayed."
    The Kielmark blinked like a cat. "Only that? Nothing more?" When he received no answer, he tried again. "Were you responsible?"
    Anskiere bent his head, and his long, expressive fingers clenched at his sides. "Yes."
    A murmur stirred the ranks of men at arms, silenced by the Kielmark's glare. Tathagres' sorcerers fidgeted restlessly, disquieted by the turn the interview had taken. Anskiere's request for sanctuary had initiated an exchange whose outcome could not be controlled. And with lowered spears at their back, they dared not intervene.
    The Kielmark shifted in his chair, muscles relaxed beneath his swarthy skin. "I accept that," he said, and abruptly reached a decision. "You are welcome to what safety Cliffhaven can provide, if you will ward the weather in return."
    Anskiere looked up. "There are limits to both." Without explaining how severely his powers were curtailed, he added, "I will do all I can."
    The Kielmark nodded, rubies flashing at his neck. "I understand. You may take back your staff. Now what would you suggest I do with the two who came with you?"
    "Nothing, Eminence." Anskiere retrieved the staff and straightened with an expression of bland amusement. "For them I claim sole responsibility."
    One sorcerer hissed in astonishment. The other whirled, openly affronted by Anskiere's presumptuous boldness. And on the dais, the Kielmark awarded their shattered composure a sharp bellow of laughter. "So. The hyenas have not forgotten their spots," he observed. He sobered in the space of a second, strong fingers twined in the leopard fur. "I will allow you their fate, Stormwarden, but with one difference. I mistrust the intentions of anyone who claims no convictions, be they sorcerers or men. I wish this pair gone from Cliffhaven in three days' time."
    The sorcerers settled in smug satisfaction.