The Dark Queen Read Online Free PDF Page B

absentmindedly as the
     rebels and the storm closed like a vise around the floundering legions of Istar. He saw
     the bird dive toward a distant cropping of high grass, an Istarian archer level his bow at
     the creature . . . And then, with a blinding magic that still bedazzled the rebel leader,
     no matter how many times he had seen it happen, Lucas vanished into a fireball, into a
     nova of red and amber as though the sun itself had opened and swallowed the bird. The hawk
     would return later, from the high air. It would bear stories to Larken of how the
     Istarians had fled from the desert rout. In the wake of the golden flame, a rider in
     Solam-nic armor burst free of the chaos, galloping north toward the foothills, toward
     safety. Toward Istar and reinforcement, the bard's fingers snapped out inches in front of
     Fordus's face. There is only one man who can outrun horses, outrun wind and light and
     thought... Stirred by Larken, Fordus gathered himself again and loped down the rise,
     gaining speed as he reached the plain. He struck an angle to the path of the rider, then
     broke into an all-out run, blazing
    through the dry grass at astounding speed. From the high ground, Larken watched and
     marveled and chanted, her song weaving through the drum's swift cadence until word and
     rhythm were indistinguishable, seeming to drive the heartbeat of the racing man as he
     closed with the rider. When the Solamnic horse refused to hurdle the banks of a dry creek
     bed, its rider had to rein the animal down the hard, sloping incline, losing valuable time
     in the process. Fordus raced to the bank and stopped. Standing only fifty feet from the
     Solamnic, he drew his axe and sent it whistling through the air at the struggling rider.
     The axe drove home between helmet and breastplate. Without another breath, the man slumped
     for- ward in the saddle, and the heavy Solamnic helmet toppled from his head. This was no
     knight. All of fifteen, he was, if that old. Larken, on the high ground a thousand yards
     away, saw the boy drop from the saddle, a shiny streak of red spreading from his throat
     onto the sand. The drum head felt cold and alien beneath her fingers, and her hands
     trailed off into soft, mournful sounds.
    *****
    The flanking attack of the rebels demolished the hapless Istarian infantry. By early
     evening, when the air had cleared and the sand resettled, General Josef Monoculus, his
     right eye heavily bandaged, stood propped between wounded Istarian regulars as he handed
     his sword to Fordus Firesoul. No more than two hundred of the Istarians survived; the
     prisoners would be taken to the desert's edge and set free, forced to travel the thirty
     miles to Istar unarmed and on foot. The sand from the storm had already covered the dead.
     Stormlight thought of the harsh trek across the grasslands and looked toward the defeated
     soldiers. Some of the Istarians would not survive; hunger and thirst and exhaustion would
     dispatch a small number, and wild animals and bandits would seize a few more. But even a
     safe return to Istar did not mean that their ordeal was over. Many would fall prey to the
     grashaunts, the strange insanity that came from too long a stay in level and wide places.
     These wretches suffered from the delusion that the world around them was expanding, that
     if they strayed too long out of sight of home or friends, the distances would increase,
     and they might never find their way back. Such madmen would return to Istar, never again
     leaving the close confinements of barrack or cubicle or cell. They would waste away by
     their windows as they stared fearfully out into an uncertain world that was always
     receding. It was true: Fordus treated his prisoners sternly. The road ahead of the
     defeated legionnaires was the most perilous one. But not unfair. Indeed, the plains might
     treat them better than would the comrades and leaders who awaited their