Trullion: Alastor 2262 Read Online Free PDF

memory.”
    “Not all that good. The Huldens have always been hussade types. Old Harrad talked much of Jut, the best rover Saurkash ever produced, or so said old Milo. Shira was a solid guard, right enough, but slow in the jumps. I doubt I ever saw him make a clean swing.”
    “That’s a fair judgment.” Glinnes looked along the waterway. “I expected him here to meet me, or my brother Glay. Evidently they had better things to do.”
    Young Harrad glanced at him sidewise, then shrugged and brought one of his neat green and white skiffs to the dock. Glinnes loaded his cases aboard and they set off eastward along Mellish Water.
    Young Harrad cleared his throat. “You expected Shira to meet you?”
    “I did indeed.”
    “You didn’t hear about Shira then?”
    “What happened to him?”
    “He disappeared.”
    “Disappeared?” Glinnes looked around with a slack jaw. “Where?”
    “No one knows. To the merling’s dinner-table, likely enough. That’s where most folk disappear.”
    “Unless they go off to visit friends.”*
    “For two months? Shira was a great horn, so I’ve been told, but two months on cauch would be quite extraordinary.”
    Glinnes gave a despondent grunt and turned away, no longer in the mood for conversation. Jut gone, Shira gone-his homecoming could only be a melancholy occasion. The scenery, ever more familiar, ever more rich with memories, now only served to increase his gloom. Islands he knew well slid by on each side: Jurzy Island, where the Jurzy Lightning-bolts, his first team, had practiced; Calceon Island, where lovely Loel Issam had resisted his most urgent blandishments. Later she became sheirl from the Caspar Trip-tanes, and finally, after her shaming, had wed Lord Clois from Graven Table, north of the fens … Memories thronged his mind; he wondered why he had ever departed the fens. His ten years in the Whelm already seemed no more than a dream.
    The boat moved out upon Seaward Broad. To the south, at the end of a mile’s perspective, stood Near Island, and beyond, somewhat wider and higher, Middle Island, and yet beyond, still wider, still higher, Far Island: three silhouettes obscured by water-haze in three distinct degrees, Far Island showing only slightly more substance than the sky at the southern horizon.
    The boat slid into narrow Athenry Water, with hushberry trees leaning together to form an arch over the still, dark water. Here the scent of merling was noticeable. Harrad and Glinnes both watched for water swirls. For reasons known j best to themselves, merlings gathered in Athenry Water-perhaps for the hushberries, which were poisonous to men, perhaps for the shade, perhaps for the savor of hushberry roots in the water. The surface lay placid and cool; if merlings were nearby, they kept to their burrows. The boat passed out upon Fleharish Broad. On Five Islands, to the south, Thammas Lord Gensifer maintained his ancient manse. Not far away a sailboat rode high across the Broad on hydrofoils; at the tiller sat Lord Gensifer himself: a hearty round-faced man ten years older than Glinnes, burly of shoulder and chest if rather thin in the legs. He tacked smartly and came foaming, up on a reach beside Harrad’s boat, then luffed his sail. The boat dropped from its foils and rode flat in the water. “If I’m not mistaken it’s young Glinnes Hulden, back from starfaring!” Lord Gensifer called out. “Welcome back to the fens!”
    going off to visit friends: a euphemism for cauch-crazy lovers going off to camp in the wilds.
    Glinnes and Harrad both rose to their feet and performed the salute due a lord of Gensifer’s quality. “Thank you,” said Glinnes. “I’m glad to be back, no doubt about that.”
    “There’s no place like the fens! And what are your plans for the old place?”
    Glinnes was puzzled. “Plans? None in particular … Should I have plans?”
    “I would presume so. After all, you’re now Squire of Rabendary.” Glinnes squinted across the water,