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Dark Gods Rising

Page 19

by Mark Eller


  * * * *

  “I’ll have scented rose petals in my bath,” Ludwig promised. “Servants will flock to my service, and his Lordship will speak my name with respect when he passes Meliandra into my care. Gertunda will weep and wail, cursing her cold and heartless ways with every breath because her fortunes fell so low while mine rose high.”

  “Does he ever shut up?” Trel complained from up ahead.

  “Not that I ever noticed,” Charle answered. “Ludwig, what the hell are you so happy about. Look around. We’re trapped deep in the mountains. We have no food, and there are a few dozen people who want to kill us on our back trail.”

  “Think what it will be like when we get back home,” Ludwig protested. “The caravan has been destroyed, but we managed to save the most precious of His Lordship’s goods. Lord Wencheck is sure to be pleased with us. I’m positive His Lordship will give his permission for me to court Meliandra.”

  “You were always slow,” the amulet said, her voice too thin to carry further than his own ears.

  “You better talk to the boy,” Jorge called back to Harlo.

  “If I were you,” Harlo said, “I wouldn’t plan on seeing Meliandra anytime soon.”

  Stopping his animals, Ludwig turned to look toward his friend. “Why not? His Lordship is bound to reward us. We saved his most precious goods. A rogue mage is dead. The leader of the brigands is dead.” He shook his head, remembering his astonishment at the sight of Garland‘s slack face.

  “Garland,” Harlo said firmly, “was not the brigand leader.”

  “He must have been,” Ludwig insisted, running the possible candidates through his mind. None of the others had the character or will needed to lead the brigands. “Who else could the leader be?”

  “Me,” Harlo answered.

  “But that means,” Ludwig whispered with sudden realization. Visions of Meliandra and robes and servants trickled out of his head. “Curse you, Harlo! Curse you! May Athos afflict you with boils. May your bowels flow backwards, and may you suffer an unending pain in your ass.”

  Harlo smiled fondly. “Athos has already given me the last,” he said, “though, of late, I’ve seen some signs of improvement.”

 

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