The Harvest Tide Project Read Online Free PDF

don’t know what caused the wall to collapse.’
    ‘You will tell the Catchmaster everything he needs to know about this Shessil Groach. I want him found. Every person on the project is valuable, as is the knowledge they carry. We cannot afford any more lost time. The success of this experiment is vital.’
    The Groundsmaster almost asked his leader why, if their work was so vital, six of his best people were lying in the infirmary with crossbow wounds, just for taking a walk around the market. But he bit his tongue. Crossbow wounds could be catching for those who questioned the Prime Ministrate’s authority. He hoped Shessil was all right, and that he would find his way back before the soldiers had to seek him out. Ever since one of his team, Haller Joculeb, had been lost while diving under the esh, Hovem had been growing more and more uneasy about working for the Noranians. Rak Ek Namen was a charismatic leader, well respected by his people, but he had little patience for those who did not do what they were told. Shessil was a dreamer and a bit naïve – he might not realise how much trouble he was facing.
    The Prime Ministrate strode out of the large garden and through the main building, once the home of a wealthy landowner, now the temporary quarters for over a hundred men and women who normally worked and studied in thefortified city garden of the Noranian capital. They had been brought to Hortenz to be near the coast, near the esh.
    The soldiers snapped to attention as he came out the front door. He ignored them and nodded to Cossock, his bodyguard . The huge creature, a towering figure of muscle and weapons, opened the door of the Prime Ministrate’s carriage . Namen stepped up into the vehicle and was joined by his personal assistant, Mungret. The carriage was of Braskhiam design; its carved wooden sides, inlaid with precious metals, rested on an iron chassis in front of the enormous , bule-oil engine. An iron plough-shaped cattle shunt hung from the front and served as a very effective method for getting through crowds. The driver sat on the top, looking through the windscreen over the large, wooden steering wheel and the panel of gauges and valves. Bigger, more armoured versions of the machine squatted in front and behind it; soldiers peered out through the slits of these monsters , crossbows at the ready.
    ‘Has he been found?’ Namen asked, as he settled into the velvet upholstery.
    ‘Not yet, Prime Ministrate,’ Mungret answered. ‘The gates have been closed since the alarm was given. It’s unlikely that he could have made it out before that. Someone might be hiding him, or he may have taken to the sewers, in which case he could be hopelessly lost or could have got beyond the town walls.’
    ‘Extend the search. Send out pigeons. Alert every town and village within two days’ walk of here. Get men into those sewers. Block off every exit. I want this man back safe in the grounds by tomorrow.’
    ‘Yes, Prime Ministrate.’
    ‘What other business have I to cover today?’
    Mungret consulted the agenda.
    ‘The mayor of Wicklehoe has been keeping taxes from the treasury. You wanted to deal with that yourself, Prime Ministrate . There is the exhibition opening at the Ashglaft Gallery here in town, dinner with the High Priestess Malifluous … and of course there’re the negotiations with the Braskhiams.’
    ‘Ah, yes. How go the negotiations?’
    ‘The Braskhiams still refuse to build us any more warships , and the same goes for land-based weapons. They maintain that we are making plans for war and they want nothing to do with it.’
    ‘Tell me something new, Mungret.’
    ‘We have put it to them that we need stronger defences, especially in view of the Karthar build-up and their raids into the Braskhiam fishing territories. “If we can’t defend ourselves , how can we help defend you”, etc. but they won’t have any of it. The council is afraid of upsetting the Karthars.’
    ‘I think it is a