The Stricken Field Read Online Free

Krasnegar.
    Inos detached one arm from her daughter and pulled her son into the joint embrace. "But you're sure about the imperor?"
    "Yes. Usually he recognizes me, too." "What do you mean usually?"
    "Mean it's fuzzy. Not certain. May not happen that way." "Thank you, dear. And I tell Death Bird that his prisoner is Shandie?"
    "That's solid enough."
    Who needed a seer to know that much? How could Inos ever just stand by and watch the imperor being tortured to death without even trying to save him?
    "Then what happens?"
    "Then they argue." Gath sounded grumpy. Either he disliked being questioned about his prescience or he was unsure of the fall of events.
    But again, who needed a seer? Death Bird and his green horrors might choose to torment a royal victim, but dwarves would never squander a valuable hostage. Argument was almost certain. How durable was the coalition? Suppose the argument became a quarrel?
    Gath could not foresee the outcome yet, apparently, or at least Inos found she could coax nothing more out of him. She wished his range was days or weeks, instead of only an hour or two.
    "How could the goblins have captured the imperor?" Kadie sniffed. "And how can they not know it?"
    "I don't know, dear. Perhaps he was leading one of the legions they ambushed." Inos did not want to speculate, even to herself. She did not think the imperor would ever lead a single legion, or even two. It was only three months since the old Emshandar had died, and Shandie ought to be in Hub, tending his inheritance. Why should he be here, in northwest Julgistro, hundreds of leagues from his capital? Could he have been on his way to Krasnegar? Gath had seen him in a vision; Rap had speculated that Shandie might similarly have seen Gath. She hoped the imperor had not been coming to consult his old sorcerer-friend Rap. That would mean that Rap, when he headed off to Hub, had failed to meet up with Shandie. Sorcerers did not make mistakes like that. The implications would not bear thinking about.
    Then she heard the guttural jabber of goblins outside, mingled with the subterranean rumble of dwarves. She was summoned to the feast.
    The leaders of the coalition were still holding court within a burned-out shell of a barn, but there had been changes in the last couple of hours. The central bonfire roared even larger, and there were more chiefs in attendance. They were sitting in a ragged circle on boxes and barrels instead of the littered floor, which meant that dwarvish customs had prevailed over the goblins'. They alternated-mailed gray men and half-naked greenish men.
    Inos sensed a new antagonism. Weapons had disappeared, no one was smiling. The negotiations had not gone well, then.
    She was led to an unoccupied nail keg between Death Bird and Karax. Possibly that was intended to be the place of honor. More likely, both wanted to know why she was there and neither trusted the other alone with her. Gath was given a patch of dirty floor on the opposite side of the fire, the smoky side. Kadie had not been included in the invitation. After some grumbling, she was allowed to remain, sitting in a corner by herself. Fair enough!
    Inos thought Death Bind looked tired, although the heavy tattooing on his face made it hard to read. His bulky torso and limbs shone greasily, and every now and again she would catch a stomach-turning whiff of rancid goblin unguent. He gnawed on a meat bone in ominous silence.
    The dwarvish general was older than she had realized. There was silver in the natural gray of his beard, and his rough-hewn face bore many tiny wrinkles, like cracks in weathered sandstone. Even for a dwarf, he was surly. His table manners were no better than Death Bird's.
    Nor were hers, of course. She bit listlessly at her own hunk of meat, wiping her mouth with her hand and her hands on her robe. The fire crackled and sprayed sparks up into the night sky. There was very little talk anywhere in the company, and where there was, goblins were