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.'Sepp dan Teufel, we all know''Oh, we know and love him, Inquisitor,' said Sult, beaming down, 'but I feelwe may safely cross him off the list.Who else?''Well, let's see,' Glokta took a leisurely look back at the paper.'There'sHarod Polst, a Mercer.' A nobody.Sult waved his hand impatiently.'He's nobody''Solimo Scandi, a Mercer from Westport.' Also nobody.'No, no, Glokta, we can do better than Solimo what's-his-name can't we? Theselittle Mercers are of no real interest.Pull up the root, and the leaves dieby themselves.'Page 44ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html'Quite so, Arch Lector.We have Villem dan Robb, minor nobility, holds ajunior customs post.' Sult looked thoughtful, shook his head.'Then there's ''Wait! Villem dan Robb& ' The Arch Lector snapped his fingers, 'His brotherKiral is one of the Queen's gentlemen.He snubbed me at a social gathering.'Sult smiled.'Yes, Villem dan Robb, bring him in.'And so we go deeper.'I serve and obey, your Eminence.Is there anyone's namein particular that need be mentioned?' Glokta set down his empty glass.'No.' The Arch Lector turned away and waved his hand again.'Any of 'em, allof 'em.I don't care.'First of the Magi« ^ »The lake stretched away, fringed by steep rocks and dripping greenery, surfacepricked by the rain, flat and grey as far as the eye could see.Logen's eyecouldn't see too far in this weather, it had to be said.The opposite shorecould have been a hundred strides away, but the calm waters looked deep.Verydeep.Logen had long ago given up any attempt at staying dry, and the water ranthrough his hair and down his face, dripped from his nose, his fingers, hischin.Being wet, tired, and hungry had become a part of life.It often hadbeen, come to think on it.He closed his eyes and felt the rain patter againsthis skin, heard the water lapping on the shingle.He knelt by the lake, pulledthe stopper from his flask and pushed it under the surface, watched thebubbles break as it filled up.Malacus Quai stumbled out of the bushes, breathing fast and shallow.He sankdown to his knees, crawled against the roots of a tree, coughed out phlegmonto the pebbles.His coughing sounded bad now.It came right up from his gutsand made his whole rib cage rattle.He was even paler than he had been whenthey first met, and a lot thinner.Logen was somewhat thinner too.These werelean times, all in all.He walked over to the haggard apprentice and squatteddown.'Just give me a moment.' Quai closed his sunken eyes and tipped his head back.'Just a moment.' His mouth hung open, the tendons in his scrawny neck standingout.He looked like a corpse already.'Don't rest too long.You might never get up.'Logen held out the flask.Quai didn't even lift his arm to take it, so Logenput it against his lips and tipped it up a little.He took a wincing swallow,coughed, then his head dropped back against the tree like a stone.'Do you know where we are?' asked Logen.The apprentice blinked out at the water as though he'd only just noticed it.'This must be the north end of the lake& there should be a track.' His voicehad sunk to a whisper.'At the southern end there's a road with two stones.'He gave a sudden violent cough, swallowed with difficulty.'Follow the roadover the bridge and you're there,' he croaked.Logen looked off along the beach at the dripping trees.'How far is it?' Noanswer.He took hold of the sick man's bony shoulder and shook it.Quai'seyelids flickered open, he stared up blearily, trying to focus.'How far?''Forty miles.'Logen sucked his teeth.Quai wouldn't be walking forty miles.He'd be lucky tomake forty strides on his own.He knew it well enough, you could see it in hiseyes.He'd be dead soon, Logen reckoned, a few days at the most.He'd seenstronger men die of a fever.Forty miles.Logen thought about it carefully, rubbing his chin with histhumb.Forty miles.'Shit,' he whispered.He dragged the pack over and pulled it open.They had some food left, but notmuch.A few shreds of tough dried meat, a heel of mouldy black bread.Helooked out over the lake, so peaceful.They wouldn't be running out ofdrinking water any time soon at least.He pulled his heavy cookpot out of hispack and set it down on the shingle.They'd been together a long time, butPage 45ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlthere was nothing left to cook.You can't become attached to things, not outhere in the wild.He tossed the rope away into the bushes, then threw thelightened pack over his shoulder.Quai's eyes had closed again, and he was scarcely breathing.Logen stillremembered the first time he had to leave someone behind, remembered it likeit was yesterday.Strange how the boy's name had gone but the face was withhim still.The Shanka had taken a piece out of his thigh.A big piece.He'd moaned allthe way, he couldn't walk.The wound was going bad, he was dying anyway.Theyhad to leave him.No one had blamed Logen for it.The boy had been too young,he should never have gone.Bad luck was all, could happen to anyone.He'dcried after them as they made their way down the hillside in a grim, silentgroup, heads down.Logen seemed to hear the cries even when they'd left himfar behind.He could still hear them.In the wars it had been different.Men dropped from the columns all the timeon the long marches, in the cold months.First they fell to the back, thenthey fell behind, then they fell over.The cold, the sick, the wounded.Logenshivered and hunched his shoulders.At first he'd tried to help them.Then hebecame grateful he wasn't one of them [ Pobierz caÅ‚ość w formacie PDF ]