Swords Over Fireshore by Pati Nagle Read Free Book Online Page B

him. Companies were sent to harry the kobalen who had run west, to begin clearing the river of kobalen dead, to gather wood for pyres.
    Rephanin let it all pass over him. There was an ache within him, and he could not find its cause.
    Night was coming on a cold wind. He preferred the night; when at home in the magehall in Glenhallow he was a night-bider, taking his rest by day. It had been so long now since he had rested at all that he had no will to try to find his flesh and ascertain its needs.
    He should do so, he knew. The needs of the flesh, the needs of the soul. He wondered, did his soul bear the weight of all these kobalen dead? If so, he could not see that he would ever be able to atone.

    Turisan fretted as he rode across another of the valleys south of Midrange. Sunlight had broken through the clouds, turning the snow in the road to slush and then to mud. The sun should have cheered him, but his thoughts were far distant.
    Eliani was safe, but something had upset her. Only the conviction that she was not in immediate danger kept him from speaking to her. They would talk when both were resting.
    He rubbed at his aching shoulder. The wound, taken a few days since at Midrange, still troubled him. The kobalen's dart had gone deep.
    Was the battle still underway? He heard no sound of it on the wind, but they were yet some distance from Midrange.
    The sun's warmth was making him uncomfortable. He threw back his cloak from his shoulders, and rubbed a hand across his heated brow. At that moment, his party crossed the ridge into the next valley.
    He recognized it; the last valley to the south of Midrange. He had camped on the north side of it the night after being wounded, along with other casualties of the battle.
    Some of them had not lived the night. One in particular he remembered—a guardian who had been severely injured, and whose passing he had eased with Eliani's help. Dahlaran had been his name; a young recruit. Too young.
    â€œMy lord...”
    Turisan shifted his gaze to the ridge, where Gothalan pointed. Beyond it rose a towering pillar of smoke.
    He drew a sharp breath. The smoke was thick and black, so the fire must be new. High Holding had burned, but not like this.
    â€œLet us hasten.”
    The guardians were eager enough to comply. Likely they all had friends on the field at Midrange. To know their fate the sooner, whatever it might be, was easier than waiting.
    The horses ran willingly, catching the anxiety of their riders. Even so, it was needful to stop halfway across the valley and rest the animals. Turisan bit back impatience as they slowed to a walk.
    The smoke had begun to spread, flattening against the sky. Turisan could smell it now; a foul, unclean fume. He frowned, contemplating his choices.
    If they crossed into Midrange Valley and discovered the battle was lost, they must retreat at once. He would like to reach Highstone, less than two days' ride from here, but if the enemy held the valley he would not be able to do so without crossing the Silverwash and swinging far to the east. Even then, he would be risking his life and those of his escort, circling around the enemy.
    If the battle was still underway, though ... he would seek out Ehranan and deliver his message, then be sent to safety behind the lines, no doubt. Ehranan might even order him back to Glenhallow. He would have to compose a diplomatic refusal. He meant to continue north, whatever the situation at Midrange.
    His gaze remained fixed on the smoke as they progressed. The sun grew warmer, intensifying the smell. Turisan considered getting out a cloth to tie over his mouth and nose, but that would require halting to search in his packs.
    At last the horses were rested enough to trot again. The party crossed the valley floor swiftly, then slowed as the road began to climb the southern slope of the next ridge of mountains.
    Turisan glanced westward, seeking the campsite, for it had been near a stream running down from the