Watt-Evans, Lawrence - Annals of the Chosen 01 (45 page)

The
Archer
had
sat
down
on
the
far
side
of
the
table;
he was
staring
openly
at
the
Beauty.
Breaker
frowned.

"We
can't
go
on
like
this,"
the
Beauty
said.
"We
need
that wagon."

"Getting
it
ready
may
mean
staying
a
few
days
here," Breaker
said.

"It
would
be
worth
it,"
the
Beauty
said.

"I
believe
she's
right,"
the
Scholar
said.

Breaker
nodded.
"I
won't
argue."
He
looked
at
the Scholar—partly
just
to
avoid
looking
at
the
Beauty
again— and
asked,
"In
all
the
stories
about
the
other
Dark
Lords,
is there
any
mention
of
storms
or
lightning?"

"Oh,
yes,
of
course,"
the
Scholar
said.
"The
Dark
Lord
of the
Midlands
was
before
the
Wizard
Lords
had
full
control of
the
weather,
but
he
did
manage
to
gather
clouds
around his
fortress—I'm
not
sure
why.
The
Dark
Lord
of
Tallow-crane
brought
landslides
down
on
the
Chosen,
and
killed
the Seer
that
way.
The
next
two
retired,
rather
than
be
slain,
but the
Dark
Lord
of
Kamith
t'Daru
used
rainstorms
to
create floods
to
slow
the
Chosen
when
they
neared
his
keep.
The Dark
Lord
of
the
Tsamas
used
a
lightning
bolt
to
burn
a siege
engine
the
Leader
was
constructing,
and
rain
to
make footing
treacherous."
He
frowned.
"The
Dark
Lord
of
Spider Marsh
and
the
Dark
Lord
of
Goln
Vleys
did
not
use weather—I
don't
know
why
not.
And
I
don't
recall
any
tales of
using
storms
as
the
Dark
Lord
of
the
Galbek
Hills
does."

"The
Dark
Lord
of
the
Galbek
Hills."
Breaker
had
never heard
that
phrase
spoken
before,
had
never
thought
it
himself,
but
it
was
now
obvious
that
was
indeed
who
and
what they
were
up
against.

"The
Dark
Lord
of
the
Galbek
Hills."
He,
as
the
Swordsman,
was
on
his
way
to
kill
the
Dark
Lord
of
the
Galbek Hills.
It
still
didn't
seem
entirely
real,
somehow.
Dark
Lords were
monsters
of
the
ancient
past,
not
part
of
the
peaceful modern
world.

But
the
present
Wizard
Lord
had
slaughtered
a
village— and
killed
their
guide.

The
Seer,
satisfied
with
the
fire,
pulled
another
chair
up, between
the
Scholar
and
the
Archer.
The
Leader
and
the Speaker
remained
apart,
seated
on
a
bench
by
the
far
wall, talking
quietly.

"How
many
people
has
the
Wizard
Lord
killed?"
Breaker asked
the
Seer,
without
preamble,
as
she
settled
onto
her chair.

"What?"

"All
told,
in
his
eight
years,
or
nine,
how
many
people
has the
current
Wizard
Lord
killed?"

"I
...
I
don't
know,
exactly.
I
don't
know
how
many
were in
Stoneslope—enough
that
I
sensed
them
as
a
mass,
rather than
individuals."

"Well,
other
than
that,
then—how
many
besides
the
people
of
Stoneslope?"