Conqueror’s Moon by Julian May Read Free Book Online Page A

whims of an alien sorceress.”
    Someone sighed.
    “And how are we to pay for this grand enterprise?” Viscount Skellhaven asked, not bothering to hide his ill will. “Certain lords and their knights will loot Mallburn Palace of its treasures, while my fighting sailormen and I merely torch the Diddly waterfront. Are we supposed to be content with the spoils of empty warehouses, worm-eaten scows, and burnt-out hulks?”
    “Our mission is not to pillage the city,” Conrig declared. “It is to seize it and to force the capitulation of Achardus, his state officials, and the powerful Guild of Merchants. This I vow to do. This I will do with the aid of you stalwart northerners, who are familiar with mountain terrain and the battle tactics needed for a swift and stealthy assault against an unsuspecting foe. As for your material reward, it will be more than generous. I’ll not forget those whose bravery helped cement the Sovereignty of High Blenholme. This I also vow, on the head of Emperor Bazekoy the Great.”
    Skellhaven’s thin lips stretched in a disagreeable smile. “A very impressive oath, Your Grace. Please don’t take me wrong. I’m a poor man, only concerned for the welfare of my followers. All too often the Crown has made fine promises to us and then…” He shrugged.
    “I am not King Olmigon,” Conrig said. A few of them drew breath at his lack of respect, but he turned away from Hartrig Skellhaven and let his gaze sweep them all. “The time has come, my friends, for you to decide. Please say—beginning with you, dear Godfather—whether you will join me in an invasion of Didion.”
    “I will come,” said Tanaby Vanguard, “along with one hundred of my knights and thanes.”
    “And I with forty,” said Norval Swanwick. “Plus farriers, cooks, and leeches well able to fight.”
    “Ramscrest pledges sixty mounted warriors and twenty sumpter-mules well provisioned.”
    “The Virago of Marley will follow you with a force of eighty mounted men,” Zeandrise declared, “plus thirty stout pack-ponies and their armed drivers.”
    “My festering leg precludes my personal participation,” said Conistone, “but I will send my four sons, ten knights of my household, twenty fighting thanes, and five farriers.”
    The others chimed in their assent one by one, some charged with eagerness and others, like Skellhaven and Holmrangel, with an air of having been coerced, until the number of warriors pledged reached well over four hundred, with a wholly adequate supply train and remounts. The last to speak was Earl Marshal Parlian Beorbrook.
    “Your Grace,” said he, “I am a cautious man, but not an ignorant one. I’ve read the Chronicle from beginning to end, the histories of more than a hundred Cathran rulers. But none of them, I think, will be the match of you if you can pull off this mad stunt. I pledge thirty knights, the same number of fighters mounted on sturdy coursers, and fifty mules loaded with goodly fodder for man and beast… and I pray I’ll live to hail you Sovereign of High Blenholme.”
    The council of war surged up from their seats and cheered.
    Conrig nodded in ironic acknowledgment of the backhanded compliment. “Your agreement to my proposal gladdens my heart, Earl Marshal.” He opened the ornate black velvet purse that hung from his belt. “I have here wafers of the most exquisitely flavored pyligosh, which I will share with you all as a token of our new fellowship.”
    Almost solemnly, he handed out the rare small sweetmeats, each of which was wrapped in a green cloth square and tied with golden cord. “Please eat them now to symbolize our unified resolve—and then let’s see what manner of liquid cheer Duke Tanaby has set out for us. I, for one, am now in need of refreshment stronger than wine.”
    The nobles sprang up from their stools and crowded toward the laden sideboard, leaving only Zeandrise Marley to stand before Conrig, holding her wrapped tidbit. She spoke in a voice