‘You gave your word, Hondo,’ Deeds panted.
Slowly, Hondo released him and Deeds saw there was blood on the man’s hand where he had been bitten. It would have to be cleaned that evening or the wound would swell and grow hot. Deeds had known a man to die once when he was bitten in a fight … He shook his head, weary and fed up. He could not run any further, even if they gave him a good start. He was done. Deeds glanced at Hondo and wondered why he had ever believed his word.
Hondo was watching Bosin as a man might watch a viper in his bedroom. The sword saint rose to his feet in balance and seemed almost to have forgotten Deeds.
‘Master Bosin?’ Hondo said softly. When there was no reply, his voice hardened. ‘Bosin!’
The big man looked up slowly, dragging his gaze from Deeds.
‘I know him,’ Bosin said.
Hondo nodded. ‘He shot you.’
‘All in the past now,’ Deeds added quickly. ‘And self-defence – and my duty as a guard for the camp anyway. I was well within my rights and you know it. You could have been thieves or …’ He broke off when Bosin turned his gaze on him once more.
‘He is … annoying. He is an annoying man,’ Bosin said slowly.
He spoke as if from a great distance. Hondo blinked at him, at emotions he had not heard since Bosin had been healed by the Canis Stone. From instinct, Hondo nudged Deeds with his boot.
‘Hey! Enough of that. Your honour guarantees my safety, Meneer Hondo. That’s what you told Tellius, back in Darien. Your word and his. So if your ape has calmed down, I will thank you to treat me with a little more respect – and give me my guns and my back pay.’
Deeds rose to his feet, unable to understand the strange tension between the two Shiang swordsmen, or the way Hondo hung on every word Bosin said.
‘Understand?’ Deeds said, looking in exasperation from one to the other. ‘Do you know what? Go your own way. I’m done. Just give me my things and the money you owe, with a horse. You can carry on kissing the ambassador’s ring then. Give them all a bow for me in Shiang, would you? I’m for home.’
‘What do you think, Bosin? Should I just let him go?’ Hondo said.
The big man winced, shaking his head. It reminded Hondo of a bear he had once seen. The animal had disturbed a bees’ nest and been stung, over and over, only his thick fur protecting him. As Hondo watched, Bosin twitched.
Deeds backed away from both of them. His guns had to be in the locked chest that was in Hondo’s part of the caravan. Before that day, Deeds wouldn’t have dared break the lock for fear of whatever punishment it would have earned him, guns or no guns. That sort of concern seemed a bit distant in that moment. Without another word, he turned and ran. To his horror, he heard Hondo giving a great ululating howl behind him, as if the hunt was on. Another sound joined it, a great coughing roar that lent wings to Deeds’ feet as he raced back to camp. Behind him, the Shiang masters set off in pursuit.
12
Old Wounds
Deeds panted, the sound loud in his ears. At times, it felt like he was flying, barely in touch with the earth. The camp was actually closer than he had thought and he increased his pace now that he didn’t have to hold anything in reserve. Whatever game those Shiang maniacs were playing, Deeds was going to get his pistols, if he had to break through some ornate lacquer and a brass dragon to do it. To be chased through ferns and bracken like a damned deer was just about the end. Deeds clenched his fists as he ran. Once he had his guns, he’d blast his way out if he had to. They’d no right to keep him a prisoner! He’d agreed to guard the caravan for triple pay, not be a slave to foreign devils.
Whether he took a better route or whether he’d lost them, he did not know. There was no sign of Hondo or Bosin as Deeds barrelled past the rearmost carts, swerving around a fire-ring of stones and a kettle hissing steam on a stand. Someone called out, but it was still early and the ambassador would be exercising on a nearby hill, going through his patterns of Mazer steps while the sun rose.
Deeds saw one of the ambassador’s servants reach for a sword as he pelted past.
‘Is it thieves?’ the man called. ‘Are we under attack?’
Deeds ignored him. He reached the third cart in the row, the reins neatly tied and waiting to be reattached to the draught horses cropping turf alongside. Hondo’s personal chest was on that cart.
Sweat poured from him as he clambered up and ducked his head under a tarpaulin. It made a noise like cloth ripping as he pressed deeper in. Hondo’s trunk was black and polished to a high sheen, though it showed dents and scratches too. It had been made in Darien, though perhaps to Hondo’s specification, as it looked strange enough. Deeds cast around for something he could use to break the lock. He felt one of the tent pegs in his belt as he bent over it and grinned to himself.
He jammed the peg under the lip of the lid, wincing as the wood splintered. Well, they’d brought it on themselves, chasing him over the hillsides. Deeds flung back the lid and reached for the pair of guns he saw immediately inside. They were not his, but by the Goddess, they were better, with the mark of the Hart gun foundry on black-patterned hilts. They fitted his hand as well as his old ones and he rested the cool metal of one on his forehead and sighed, feeling whole again for the first time in an age.
As he stood taller, his head pressed into the canvas over the cart. He felt the lurch as someone leaped onto the driver’s seat. Deeds spun to face the threat, but the bulge he made in the canvas proved a fine target. Something struck him with a clang and Deeds folded unconscious across the shirts and guns.
Hondo arrived at the cart in time to see Chen bring a ferocious blow down on the lump that moved jerkily under the canvas. The sword saint skidded to a stop and held up his hand to halt Bosin in turn. For once, it worked.
‘He was stealing,’ Chen said. The ambassador’s servant could hardly disguise his glee at having been able to land a blow on the big ugly foreigner who scorned their ways and said foul things about Shiang food. It took a moment for Chen to realise he was not being congratulated.
‘Step down from there,’ Hondo said.
His voice was very calm and Chen sensed something was off. He clambered down quickly, standing with his head lowered and the mallet half-hidden behind his back. To his consternation, the ambassador himself approached them, drawn by the shouts.
‘What is going on?’ Xi-Hue demanded.
His servant chose the authority he knew best and answered.
‘This man Vic Deeds was stealing from the sword saint, ambassador. I saw him come running through the camp, then climb onto the cart. I heard the noise of damage and I acted quickly.’
‘I see. Where is this Vic Deeds now?’ Xi-Hue said, looking around.
Chen indicated the canvas-covered cart with the handle of his mallet.
‘I knocked him out, ambassador, before he could steal and escape, or do any more damage.’
‘And you, Masters Hondo and Bosin? What have you to say for yourselves?’
Hondo was experienced enough to know the ambassador was asking questions as he came up to speed. There was no real malice in the schoolmasterly tone. It rankled even so.
‘It is a private concern, ambassador, if you don’t mind,’ he replied. ‘You’ll notice Master Deeds was apprehended on my own cart. Injured, though my honour guaranteed his safety.’
Hondo said the last with a slight emphasis of disapproval and Chen dropped to one knee from instinct, though it was in part as his legs grew weak at the thought of offending a sword saint.
‘Master H-Hondo, I a-am … sorry. I thought h-he was …’
‘Enough, Chen,’ the ambassador said irritably. ‘Stand up.’
Xi-Hue had endured about enough foolishness. His morning patterns had been interrupted, which was unforgivable enough. His digestion would be disturbed for the rest of the day. Now he had to listen to some petty dispute? A ‘private concern’? He was a long way from a court, or anywhere else. In that place, addressing men of Shiang,
Xi-Hue was perhaps more himself than his usual mask.
‘You should all be ashamed of yourselves,’ Xi-Hue said. ‘Private concern? Private? I am of the fourth noble rank, plenipotentiary and ambassador of Shiang! Where is your respect?’
Xi-Hue was oblivious to the way Hondo watched him steadily, showing no sign of submissiveness to authority, as the ambassador might have expected. Bosin too stood like a wall. The servant, Chen, sensed catastrophe. He chose to lie flat, prostrating himself in trembling silence. At the same time, they all heard Vic Deeds groan as he came round on the cart.
‘I have said this is a private matter, Ambassador Xi-Hue,’ Hondo said. ‘Forgive me for any discomfort I may have caused. However, this is not your concern. Please. Do not let us take another moment of your time.’
His voice was deliberately calm, though there was tension in him. Ambassador Xi-Hue blinked in amazement at being so addressed. None of his usual tact and subtlety was in play. He was faced with disrespectful Shiang servants and his fury only mounted with each moment.
‘It is not your place to tell me what is my concern and what is not my concern, Master Hondo! You forget your rank – and mine! Or did you earn some noble title while you were away? It could not have been by succeeding in the task you were set!’
Hondo watched the ambassador grow red-faced, but he could not bring himself to show the obeisance clearly expected of him, flinging himself to the earth like Chen. Xi-Hue was a stranger and perhaps Hondo had seen enough of rank to know it was all a fiction to those who had it. He sighed, weary of games.
‘Ambassador, I have no wish to cause you distress. I ask you to withdraw and be ready to take to the road. I tell you for the third time – with respect to your rank – this is no concern of yours.’
‘I am the representative of the court in Shiang!’ the ambassador barked, refusing to back down. ‘On this road, I am that court. The authority of the jade throne stands in me, in this place – a throne you are pledged to serve. Or is your word and your honour worth nothing, sword saint?’
Hondo stared without blinking for what seemed an age.
‘You are … correct, ambassador,’ he said at last.
Xi-Hue raised his chin and clenched his jaw.
‘Then do not speak to me of “private concern”. This is my diplomatic retinue, Master Hondo – and I am of noble rank. Consider that, as you consider your response.’
Hondo decided to kneel, if it would allow the man to withdraw from the stand-off. Impatient as he was to examine the extraordinary awakening in Bosin, he understood the ambassador’s pride had to be salved before they could go on. The traditions of centuries and the first decades of his own life told him to kneel. In the same moment, he saw how little it meant, a revelation that surprised him in its force. He began to drop to one knee, but froze as Bosin put his hand on Hondo’s shoulder.
‘You are the sword saint, Master Hondo,’ Bosin said. ‘Who is this ink-stained tea-drinker?’
The enormous swordsman turned his gaze on the ambassador, who stood in horror at what he was hearing.
‘Leave us alone,’ Bosin said to him. ‘Go and compose a poem, or write a letter, but leave us.’
‘You are throwing away your life,’ the ambassador spluttered. His shock was great enough to abandon all caution and he went on. ‘Do you think this insolence will be forgotten? The moment Lord Hong is confirmed as king, he will sign your death warrants. Kneel and ask for forgiveness, or I will have you flogged – and executed on our return to Shiang.’
Bosin laughed, the first time Hondo had heard the sound in two years. The sword saint looked up at the big man in delight, seeing the spark he thought had gone for ever. In that moment, the ambassador was an irrelevance. The sword saint began to laugh as well, overcome in his relief.
The sheet over Hondo’s cart flew up in a crackle of canvas. Vic Deeds rose from amidst the cases and bags with a pistol in each hand. Hondo and Bosin reacted in the same instant, fading to the side before Deeds could sight and aim. The ambassador stood frozen as Deeds lowered his right gunsight to cover him, the other pointing straight up as he waited for a second target.
‘I will be taking my pay, and these guns – and a horse,’ Deeds snarled. ‘Or I swear to the Goddess, I will walk over your dead bodies and take it all anyway. I have had about enough of this. If I have to rob you, I’ll do that too. You can complain when you send someone back to Darien. For all the good that will do.’
Ambassador Xi-Hue had not been threatened in such a way since his days at the Mazer school. He could hardly believe the extraordinary events of the morning, but an attack on him merited the simplest response. He eyed the dark end of the iron pistol, with some awareness of what those diabolical weapons could do. His life hung in the balance, but that was nowhere near as important as another injury to his dignity, on top of all else he had suffered.
‘Master Hondo? Kill this man.’
Hondo sighed. He had moved around to the side, out of sight. He knew he could probably throw something at Deeds, perhaps a blade to kill him, or just to spoil his aim long enough to close. That was not the point. He was more than a little weary of the ambassador’s constant assumption of his service.
‘If you move, he dies,’ Deeds snapped.
The gun he held on the ambassador didn’t waver, but the other swung back and forth, looking for a target. Hondo wondered if Deeds was as good as he seemed to believe, especially with guns he had never shot before.
‘I have guaranteed this man’s safety, ambassador,’ Hondo said. Bosin was still grinning and he found himself smiling in response. Neither of them came closer to the furious man waving pistols around, however.
‘Nonetheless, I order it,’ Xi-Hue grated, without looking away from the madman threatening him.
‘Then I refuse,’ Hondo said, softly.
The words were significant enough for the ambassador to look around, despite the threat on his life. Hondo shrugged and went on.
‘Deeds, you have very little time before this man’s servants see that he is under threat and attack you.’
‘I can take them,’ Deeds growled back.
Hondo shook his head.
‘You could if I had left bullets in that chest, perhaps. As it is, you cannot.’
‘His guns cannot fire? He cannot shoot?’ Xi-Hue demanded. ‘Then what are you waiting for? Take them from him. Bind him for execution. You gave your first oath to the court of Shiang, Master Hondo. I am that court – and my honour has been undermined this morning. Weigh the conflict and respond to me. Now!’
Hondo closed his eyes for a moment. The ambassador was perfectly correct in his demand. There had been a thousand occasions in the history of Shiang where one oath had come into opposition with another. The most common was an oath of loyalty to a house lord who was then declared traitor. Every warrior had been brought up with those tales, as well as the mechanism and weighting to resolve the conflicts.
Hondo’s oath of service when he had been made sword saint pre-dated any arrangement with Deeds. If Ambassador Xi-Hue represented the royal court, he was right when he said the outrage to his honour outweighed any duty of care to Deeds. Hondo’s responsibility was clear. Instead, he turned to Bosin.
‘How would you feel about going back to Darien? I thought I’d be relieved at going home. I miss so many things. But now? I want to go back. I won’t leave you, though, Bosin. Whatever has happened to you, I will remain at your side. What do you think?’
‘I am starving,’ Bosin said slowly. ‘I feel as if I haven’t eaten for years. Do you remember the Friday hog roast at the Old Red Inn? All you can eat?’
‘Of course,’ Hondo said, chuckling.
‘I would like to see that again. I am too thin. There is nothing like that in Shiang.’
Hondo clapped the big man on the shoulder, feeling tears prickle in his eyes. He didn’t know how to react to Bosin. He was almost afraid he would say the wrong thing and watch the terrible coldness of the Canis Sto
ne return.
Hondo turned to Deeds then, watching them all with suspicion. Hondo noted how the guns had drooped. He hadn’t been certain, in fact. There had been bullets in the chest, though well wrapped and deeper in. He’d thought Deeds might not have found them, but he hadn’t wanted to bet his life on it. He breathed out slowly.
‘Master Deeds, you’ve expressed a desire to return to Darien. I believe Master Bosin and I will accompany you.’
‘With my pay and a horse and these guns,’ Deeds said immediately, ‘and bullets for them so I don’t have to bluff you maniacs again.’
Bosin snorted and Hondo shook his head.
‘You are the most irritating man I have ever met, Master Deeds. Thank you for that.’
‘You are welcome,’ Deeds said, though he had no idea what the sword saint was talking about.
Hondo turned to see the ambassador’s indignation and humiliation mingling in equal measures. The news had spread through the camp and the man’s personal guards had arrived in support. They did not look happy to find themselves on what appeared to be the opposite side of a sword saint. Hondo met the eyes of each man as they took position. He made a personal assessment as to whether any of them would draw a blade. He hoped not. They were loyal men, doing simple work. They did not deserve to die.
‘Ambassador,’ Hondo began, making his voice ring out. ‘I apologise for any dishonour. I have weighed my oaths – including those you have not heard, made to Tellius of Darien in the years that he was king. I choose to return home.’
The Sword Saint Page 14