Warrior of Scorpio Read Online Free PDF Page A

accountants. His bright bird-like eyes studied us from a face held to one side, so that I knew his sight was affected in one of those eyes.
    “Llahal!” he said, and then waited, stooping, subservient.
    Brusquely, Seg said: “And?”
    Caphlander the Relt wilted. “All burned,” he said. “All dead. Such sights—”
    “There’s no going back, then. The Lord of Upalion having gone on his expedition will return to dust and ashes and corpses.”
    The impression I gained then, briefly and fleetingly, was that Seg was not overly dismayed at this catastrophe to his master, the man who owned him as slave. And — no wonder.
    “Is there no safe place for this woman, Seg?”
    He looked at her and sucked in his lower lip.
    “The city — that is the only safe place. And we would never reach it on foot now. The sorzarts must be out in force.”
    “The day of our doom is here.” Caphlander spoke with complete subjection and acceptance of his fate.
    “I do not believe that my day of doom is to be brought by a bunch of lizard-faced scaled beast-men. There are other ways to cities than by walking,” I told Caphlander and Seg.
    “All the sectrixes were taken—”
    I lifted my head and sniffed. On the night air, whose lush odors of nocturnal plant life told of many of those immense moon-drinking flowers twining among the ruins, the tangier smell I knew so well infiltrated like liquor at a funeral.
    “The sea is not far. This city—”
    “Happapat,” said Seg.
    “This Happapat — is it a port?”
    “Yes.”
    “Then let’s go.”
    We reached the coast. Seg carried the child and I carried his mother. She lay in my arms, a soft flaccid sexless bundle, a human being for whom my only concern had been dictated by the Star Lords — whoever they might be. We rested in a rock cave halfway up the cliff as the night passed.
    With the gaining light, and refreshed by a few burs’ sleep, we could plan again. I think, even then, Seg Segutorio had realized something other than mere concern over the safety of his mistress impelled me, for his people may be wild and reckless and filled with song, but they also possess that hard streak of practicality that has maintained their independence.
    As the first sheening light of Zim spread in scarlet and golden radiance across the calm waters of the inner sea we looked out and down onto the ships of the sorzarts.
    “Eleven of them.” Seg spat. I did not waste good saliva. “They have to voyage in company, for they cannot face a Pattelonian swifter in fair fight.”
    On the curved beach the ships had been drawn up stern first. Ladders were lowered with the dawn and the anchor watch began their preparations to welcome back their comrades with loot and gold and prisoners. My hand tightened on the hilt of one of the swords. We could wait here until the sorzarts sailed away. . .
    Call me a fool. Call me a windbag full of braggadocio.Call me prideful. I do not care. All I know is that while my Delia sought me from her island home of Vallia by rider and flier and I yearned above all things to hold her dear form in my arms once more, I could not thus tamely crouch hiding in a cave. On the hilt of the sword were marked letters in the Kregish script: G.G.M. That meant that a mercenary warrior employed by Gahan Gannius had died some time in the past and his sword had been taken as battle booty by the sorzarts. I wondered what had happened to Gahan Gannius, whom I had rescued on my last return to Kregen, and if his manners and those of the girl Valima had improved.
    The plan must be nicely made and as nicely decided. Those eleven ships down there on the beach beyond the nearest crumbling wall of the Pattelonian fishing village were not swifters nor were they broad ships. They were dromvilers. They had chosen to land directly at the fishing village — which are rare enough on the inner sea’s coastline, Zair knows — to secure safe berthings. The coast here fell sheer into the sea. The people of the