John Ringo Voyage 01 Into the Looking Glass
Hogan, James P Voyage from Yesteryear
Arystoteles Etyka Wielka
Inne AniośÂy Czas Odwetu Lili St Crow
Call Of Cthulhu Delta Green UFO Documents FBI Top Secret Files
James Patterson The Jester
Deaver Jeffery Spirale strachu
Glen Cook Garrett 04 Old Tin Sorrows
BOŻENA GIEREK CZYÂŚCIEC ÂŚWIĘTEGO PATRYKA [Lough Derg (Jezioro Czerwone)]
Philip K. Dick Blade Runner
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
Or a ship, Hawkwood interrupted.
Just so, Captain.
Brilliant, Murad said caustically, flourishing his glass. What good do these priceless nuggets do us, old
man?
They tell us that this shifter is suffering on two counts. First because he is in the confined space of a ship,
and second because he cannot change back and forth with the frequency he might desire. And so the
pressure builds up, and the frustration.
You re hoping he will make a mistake, lose control, Hawkwood said.
Yes. He has been very careful so far. He has murdered our weather-worker and left us becalmed,
thinking perhaps that will be enough. But the wind has struck up again and still the ship is pointed west,
so he strikes again at a ship s officer this time. He is starting to sow the seeds of panic.
They know it was a shifter that killed Pernicus, Murad said, his eyes two slits in his white-skinned face.
It s hard to say who are the most terrified, the soldiers or the passengers.
He hopes to ignite a mutiny, perhaps, Hawkwood said thoughtfully.
Yes. There is one other thing Gregory tells us, however. It is that the shifter who has recently killed is
not sated quite the reverse, in fact. Often he finds he must kill again and again, especially when he is in
these confined conditions I have mentioned. He loses more control with every murder until in the end the
rational part of him recedes and the mindless beast gains control.
Which perhaps is what happened to the shifter aboard the Faulcon, Hawkwood put in.
Yes, I am afraid so.
The Faulcon did not carry a complement of Hebrian soldiers, nor arquebuses with iron bullets, Murad
said stoutly. No, this thing is becoming afraid, is my guess. If the wizard is correct then the shifter is
beginning to succumb to his more bestial impulses. It may work to our advantage.
And in the meantime we await another death? Hawkwood asked.
Yes, Captain, I think we do, Bardolin said.
I don t think much of your strategy, Mage. It is like that of the sheep as the wolf closes in.
I can think of nothing else.
There is no mark, no sign by which the beasts can be recognized in human form?
Some old wives say there is something odd about the eyes. They are often strange-looking, not quite
human.
That s not much to go on.
It is all I have.
Where will he strike next, do you think? Murad asked.
I think it will be at what he perceives to be the centre of resistance and the source of authority. I think
that next he will strike at one of those sitting about this table.
Murad and Hawkwood stared blankly at one another. Finally the scarred nobleman managed a strangled
laugh.
You have a sure way of ruining good brandy, Mage. It might be vinegar in my mouth.
Be prepared, Bardolin insisted. Do not let yourselves be found alone at any time, and always carry a
weapon that will bite its black flesh.
T HE carrack sailed on with its twin cargoes of fear and discontent. Velasca, Hawkwood noted, was
slow to obey orders and seemed perpetually ill at ease, even when the splendid north-easter continued
steadily, breezing in over the starboard quarter and propelling the ship along at a good six knots. Two
leagues run off with every two turns of the glass, one hundred and forty-four sea miles with every full day
of sailing. And west, always due west. The carrack s beakhead bisected the sinking disc of every flaming
sunset as though it meant to sail into its very heart. Hawkwood loved his ship more than ever then, as she
responded to his attentions, his cajolings, his lashing on of sail after sail. She seemed unaffected by the
feelings on board, and leapt over the waves like a willing horse scenting home in the air ahead.
2nd day of Endorion, year of the Saint 551.
Wind north-east, fresh and steady. Course due west. Speed six knots with the breeze on the
starboard quarter.
Courses, topsails and bonnets.
Six weeks out of Abrusio harbour, by my estimate over eight hundred leagues west of North Cape
in the Hebrionese, on the approximate latitude of Gabrion, which we will follow until we find land
in the west.
In the forenoon watch Lord Murad had three soldiers strappadoed from the main yardarm for
insubordination. As I write they are being attended on the gundeck by Brother Ortelius and some
of the oldwives aboard. Strange bedfellows.
Hawkwood looked over the entry, frowning, then shrugged as he sat and dipped his quill in the inkwell
again.
In the five days since First Mate Billerand and Ship s Boy Mateo were lost there have been no
further deaths on board, though the mood of the ship s company has not improved. I have had
words with Acting First Mate Velasca; it seems he is not happy with our course and the voyage as
a whole. I told him that I expect to sight land within three weeks, which seemed to improve his
temper and that of the crew. The soldiers, however, are growing more restless by the day, and
despite the efforts of Murad s junior officers, they refuse to man their posts down in the hold. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
