The Dark Defiles Read Online Free PDF Page B

came hurriedly aboard. She spared a glance, saw one of Rakan’s Throne Eternal approaching. Nodded breathless acknowledgment at him and went back to hauling on the rope.
    “My lady, I am sent to—”
    “Not!” Through gritted teeth. “Now!”
    The rope twanged free of its wrap on the rail. Anasharal tumbled to the decking, tipped over on its back with the momentum, legs flailing. Slack leapt through the rope, and Archeth went over on her arse. The Throne Eternal sprang forward.
    “My lady—”
    “I’m fine,” she snarled, and the sheer force of it drove him back a step. She scrambled to her feet, gathered the rope in burning palms. Anasharal looked pretty helpless upended like that but she wouldn’t have put it past the Helmsman to somehow right itself, drag itself back to the edge of the hatch, and fall to the relative safety at the bottom of the companionway; safe because—and she suspected that Anasharal would somehow know this—she was pretty sure she wouldn’t have the focal strength to do all this a second time today, krinzanz or no krinzanz. She was in fact, already starting to feel that maybe—
    “Help me,” she snapped at the confused soldier. “Don’t just stand there with your prick in your hand! Grab the rope!”
    “My lady?”
    But he was Throne Eternal, and she, here in this godforsaken miserable place, was the throne, or its closest representative at least. He was charged with obeying her to the death if need be. He did as he was told. He took up station behind her, and she felt the easing on her own scorched-palm grip as he added his strength to hers. They hauled in unison, and the upended Helmsman skated a couple of feet across the greasy timbers, rocking gently. The Throne Eternal tried again, panting somewhat now. “My lady. What is. Your intention?”
    “Intention?” She twisted her head to look back at him, treated him to a gritted krinzanz grin. “Dump this fucker in the harbor, why?”
    She caught the look of dismay on his face. Turned herself back to face front.
    “Just pull,” she told him.
    “That would be ill-advised, Selak Chan, as I’m sure you already realize. The lady Archeth has ingested—”
    “You shut up!” she screamed jaggedly. “You shut the fuck up!”
    And abruptly, as if the scream had punctured some inner chamber in the workings of her anger, she was done. She felt the precious load of her fury leaking away, turning into tears. Suddenly, her muscles were no longer on fire, they only ached. Her palms stung, her mouth tasted sour and dry; every one of her 209 years fell on her like stones.
    She dropped the rope and stood there in the rain, head down.
    “Shut the fuck up,” she murmured to herself.
    “My lady? Are you hale, my lady?”
    Archeth shook herself like a wet dog. She turned to face the man properly for the first time since he’d come aboard.
    “What do you want?”
    “It’s the Dragonbane, my lady. And Shendanak’s men. Well, and my lord Tand as well. There’s been fighting. At the inn on League street. Commander Rakan requests your presence.”
    “Wait, fighting? Who’s fighting, who—” She drew a breath deep enough to shake her whole body. “All right, never mind. Go back, tell them I’m on my way.”
    “Yes, my lady.” Relief flooded the young face. He saluted, fist to heart, turned and hurried away. She watched him cross the gangplank and head off into the drizzle. She wiped some of the rain off her face.
    Fighting.
    Just what we needed.
    Better get strapped, then.
    “Not one fucking word,” she told the Helmsman as she passed its upended carapace on her way to her cabin and her knives.
    For once, Anasharal was silent.
    T HEY HAD S HENDANAK LAID OUT ON THE BED IN HIS ROOMS. G RIM-FACED Majak cousins lined the narrow corridor outside and took up space on the stairs, bulky and damp-smelling in their felt coats and boots. Shouldering her way up past them, Archeth caught impassive stares and muttered snatches of conversation