Adept (The Essence Gate War, Book 1) - By Michael Arnquist Page 0,157

lad, taking him under his wing and sharing the benefit of his long years of experience. He could not look upon that earnest, boyish countenance, however, without feeling dismay at how much like children the new recruits looked to him these days. So young, and so eager to prove themselves, one and all. Sivrin devoured every old story Horek had to tell, and hungered for more. It did not seem to matter that some tales held only meager scraps of truth; the lad had ears only for glory and bravery, and seemed not to hear at all the horrors, the pain, the warnings that laced each retelling.

Horek sighed, scratching at his chin with the tines of the fork. He kept his own beard and scalp shorn close to the skin to conceal just how much grey had shot through the sandy brown. He wondered if the youth standing before him could even sprout a whisker of his own. He dropped the utensil upon the tin plate with a clatter.

“No attack since the first,” Horek grunted, raising the familiar argument. “Does that not suggest more a freak occurrence than a calculating mind behind it?”

Sivrin spun away from the window, his clear blue eyes wide and grateful. “What else could draw such a mix of creatures together with a single purpose?”

“Who knows what drives such beasts?” Horek said with a wave of one callused hand. “The Captain says all the fancy scholars would have us believe the magic deep within the land is being stirred by something, and it is having unpredictable effects on creatures more mystical in nature. I can tell from his tone that the Captain thinks they are guessing as much as we are.”

Sivrin folded his arms across his chest, unconvinced. “Why did the creatures all come against the city, then?” he demanded. “It suggests organization, a method to it all.”

“That much is easily explained,” Horek said with a grim laugh. “Those damned things are growing in numbers out there, overrunning the countryside. Now the livestock are gone from the farms, and doubtless there is precious little wild game remaining as well. That leaves us, lad, sitting behind our walls and lighting our torches until the city glows like a beacon in the night. We must look like a giant cattle pen to their sort. It takes no hidden strategic mind to drive animals to fill their bellies.”

“Perhaps not, but they retreated in unison.”

“And fought amongst themselves, coming and going.”

“They were testing our strength,” Sivrin insisted. “Now that they have taken our measure, they will return in earnest.”

Horek snorted. “Testing our strength? Lad, they had our measure all right. They caught us unawares, and they broke right through. They had only to press the attack and the city would have been gutted. No, they fled before the light of day, not from any fear of us. Everyone knows such creatures abhor the sun’s pure light.”

“And who tells us this? The same scholars who a moment ago were just guessing?” Sivrin said in a scornful tone, but there was a tinge of grudging acceptance as well. Horek chuckled to himself; the same conversation each time, clothed in slightly different words.

“These creatures did not leave themselves enough time to finish the assault, Sivrin. That suggests impulse, not forethought.”

“Perhaps so,” the younger man admitted. He turned back to the narrow window and crossed his forearms on the ashlar blocks of the sill. “But I still say––”

He fell silent so abruptly that Horek was caught for a long moment, waiting upon his next words. Sivrin remained frozen in place, however, peering out at the gently rolling lands south of the city wall. Horek opened his mouth to tease the lad, but in the sudden silence he heard a noise from the room below. It was a faint sound, muffled by the distance and by the thick stone construction of the guard house, but something about it struck him amiss. He hesitated, listening for the sound to repeat, but it did not. Realizing his mouth still hung open, he snapped it shut, irritated by his own foolishness. He knew the two men below, veteran soldiers both, and if they weren’t accusing each other of cheating at dice they were probably just engaged in some other meaningless argument similar to the one he and Sivrin were having.

“What is it, lad?” he snapped, returning his attention to the younger guard.

“I can’t be certain,” Sivrin said in a distracted near-whisper, “but I thought I saw something moving