Race of Scorpions
“Through meadows of orange and scarlet and yellow, between the shrieking greens of fresh leaves and among drifts of dizzying scent, the coffer-camels paced with their parcels of gunpowder; mules and oxen dragged wainloads of flour and wine-casks and arrows, tents and iron, balls and forges, scaling-ladders and springals across the plain to the foothills of the Kyrenia mountains. And beside them trotted the Egyptian and Christian army with the young King at its head, and Nicholas riding a Lusigna...n warhorse beside him.In Italy, a common soldier under Urbino, Nicholas had plunged into war as a catharsis; an escape into physical combat. The excitement of battle drew him still, as it also burned, he saw, in the Bastard. But this time, Nicholas had a share of Urbino’s role. When the counsellors met, his voice was heard: the plans they made owed more than they knew to his strategy. Nevertheless, in the weeks of preparation that followed he sometimes lost sight of this divine detachment. He became entranced, as so often before, by the beauty of pattern-making: of computing, of fitting pieces together to form a whole as perfect as forethought could manage, while still aware – oh, always aware – that the heavens were garnished with giants, and this mortal kingdom with traps for the cocksure.Most of the pieces he dealt with were human.MoreLess
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