Watt-Evans, Lawrence - Annals of the Chosen 01 (56 page)

BOOK: Watt-Evans, Lawrence - Annals of the Chosen 01
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Breaker
blinked
rain
from
his
eyes
and
lowered
his
sword, simultaneously
confused
and
reassured.
How
could
the
Wizard
Lord
wrong
the
land?
Was
he
not
lord
of
the
land,
of
all Barokan?
Had
he
gone
that
far
from
the
right
path?

But
the
Speaker
could
not
be
lying
about
such
a
thing;
she would
have
had
to
listen
to
the
l
er's
protests.

"Come
on,"
the
Leader
said.
"Let's
move
that
tree."

Automatically,
Breaker
drew
a
rag
from
his
pocket
and began
wiping
his
blade
clean,
even
though
he
knew
he would
not
be
able
to
dry
it
properly
until
he
was
back
in
the wagon,
and
therefore
could
not
sheathe
it
safely.

He
had
killed
a
deer,
and
it
had
been
the
right
and
necessary
thing
to
do,
but
he
still
did
not
like
it.
Killing
animals was
for
hunters
and
herdsmen,
not
barley-farmers—or swordsmen.
It
wasn't
his
place
to
kill
deer,
and
they
should be
killed
with
spear
or
arrow,
not
a
sword.

And
why
hadn't
the
deer
fled
when
wounded,
as
the
dog had?
Why
had
the
Wizard
Lord's
hold
been
so
much stronger?

Perhaps
the
Wizard
Lord
had
been
better
prepared,
or
was improving
with
practice. Breaker
shuddered.

And
then
he
was
at
the
tree,
and
he
and
the
Leader
were too
busy
heaving
at
the
unyielding
wood
to
worry
about
anything
else
for
the
next
few
moments.

They
had
maneuvered
the
main
bulk
to
one
side,
and
had an
opening
that
the
wagon
could
probably
squeeze
through, when
Breaker
glanced
uneasily
toward
the
wagon.
Something
was
bothering
him,
but
he
could
not
say
what
it
was. He
peered
through
the
rain
at
the
wagon,
its
outline
weirdly distorted
by
the
iron
and
bronze
cage
that
protected
it,
as
if someone
had
tried
to
cross
it
out
of
the
world.

Something
was
moving
across
the
top.

At
first
he
thought
it
was
a
trick
of
the
light,
or
rainwater splashing
from
the
metal,
or
even
perhaps
a
momentarily visible
ler
of
some
sort,
but
as
he
stared
he
realized
it
was not
his
imagination,
nor
any
sort
of
illusion
or
spirit.

It
was
a
squirrel.

He
almost
relaxed
at
that,
then
caught
himself.
What
was a
squirrel
doing
out
in
a
downpour
like
this?

The
Wizard
Lord
had
just
demonstrated
that
he
was
possessing
animals
to
use
against
them,
and
while
a
squirrel might
not
be
able
to
attack
as
directly
as
a
dog
or
buck,
that didn't
mean
it
was
completely
harmless.
And
it
might
not just
be
the
one
squirrel—Breaker
remembered
the
forest
between
Stoneslope
and
the
nameless
neighboring
village, where
it
had
seemed
as
if
the
Wizard
Lord
had
turned
every bird
and
small
beast
in
the
area
to
watch
them,
though
he had
not
yet
dared
attack
openly.

"Excuse
me,
Boss,"
he
said,
as
he
turned
and
began
slogging
through
the
mud,
back
toward
the
wagon.

"Sword,
what
are
you.
..
?"
Then
the
Leader
saw
the squirrels—two
of
them
now—as
well.
"Squirrels?"

Breaker
didn't
bother
to
reply.

"Sword,
what
do
you
think
squirrels
are
going
to
do?"

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