Green, Sharon - Lady Blade, Lord Fighter.htm

by Lady Blade, Lord Fighter

  "Tisah, I really am getting tired of repeating myself," Kylin said, the annoyance sharp in his voice. "We've been over this and over it, but you still refuse to accept it like an adult. You won't be going back north to your Company, you'll be staying in the south and getting married. To me. Whether you admit it or not, that's the way it will be."

  "What has the marriage got to do with anything?" I asked, leaning forward to look over the selection of small cakes standing on the table not far from me. "I may not have any choice about going through with it, but it's come to me that that makes no real difference at all. If I have to go through with the marriage I will, and then 1*11 just go back to my Company. That way no one can throw any fits."

  Having mentioned fits, I couldn't help noticing that the man who was so anxious to marry me was about to have one of his own. His skin darkened as his fist closed tight around the copper goblet he held, and his words broke through the change of subject Indris had been hastily trying to make.

  "The hell you'll be going back to your Company after the wedding," he growled, his light eyes darkening even as he stared at me. "I don't believe in absentee wives, especially not when it's a war they plan on being absent seeing to. You'll stay with your husband, just the way a wife is supposed to."

  "Says who?" I countered, laughing at him over the rim of my cup. "If I'm not mistaken, the Law has nothing at all to say on the point so that means I can do as I please. Anyone trying to stop me will have only one way of doing it, and I think we all know how that anyone feels about the one way. I'm a Blade and I intend acting like one—any time 1 feel like ft."

  "The Law doesn't have to say anything about what a wife

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  does," he countered, his left hand closed around the smaller bandage that now replaced the one I'd put on him the day before. "All wives do the same, which is what she and her husband decide she'll do. If you expect me to decide to let you ride off wherever you please, you'll find the fault in your reasoning when all that wine you've been swallowing wears off."

  "It takes a lot more wine than this to get me drunk," I said, still purposely finding the conversation extremely amusing. "1 know because I've been drunk, just as I've been a lot of other things Blades tend to be. If the Law says I have to marry you then I will, but after that the choice is mine. You won't have any trouble making the proper excuses, will you?"

  The small, half-hidden smile ! gave him added fuel to the fire just the way I expected it to, already digging away at the attraction he felt for the helpless little female he was so concerned about. If I killed the attraction and concern together I knew I'd have what I wanted and needed, but I had to be sure not to notice the hurt and confusion shadowed behind his annoyance and irritation. He was nothing but an enemy, and enemies deserved to be hurt and confused.

  "I think it's time I showed our guests my study," VesHn said to Indris before my bristling antagonist could decide on what to argue about next, rising from his chair with his wine cup still in his hand. "You'll rejoin us later, of course."

  "Certainly, father, as soon as I'm through with what needs taking care of," Indris answered with pleasantness and a nod, also rising from her chair. "No, no, Sofaitis, I won't hear of your helping me, especially since I know how much you'll enjoy seeing my father's study. You go along with the others, and I'M join you,all later when I'm ready."

  I hadn't wanted to go anywhere the argument would be able to continue, but the single delaying tactic I'd found it possible to think of had been shot down like a solitary, low-flying bird. It was either be rude to my hosts by simply walking out of the room and ignoring where they wanted me to go, or staying with it and bracing against the time I'd need to launch another attack. From Kylin's expression I knew beyond doubt that we would be into it again sooner or later, but I also knew that no matter how distasteful I found the

  situation, I had to stay with it. Walking away would probably ruin everything I'd done until then, and 1 had even less stomach for starting over.

  "Well, if you're sure you don't need the help," I said to Indris, then turned to VesHn with a smile as I got to my feet. "I think my curiosity is aroused. Is your study the place this house's weapons are kept? 1 couldn't help noticing that for an armorer's house that a priest of Evon now lives in, there isn't much in the way of steel showing."

  "My daughter and I have our personal weapons, but we've lost the habit of wearing them," Veslin answered, putting a hand out to me before beginning to lead the way out of the room. "Aside from that, whatever Javin completed before he died has long since been sold. Indris and 1 both felt that to keep his final efforts as some sort of tribute to his memory would have been not only unnecessary, but totally against that very same memory. No one who knew Javin will ever forget him, most especially not the woman who loved him and whom he loved, and his work was meant to be used, not hung on a wall somewhere like things that have no other, more important purpose. His weapons will save lives that inferior weapons would have lost, and that's the only tribute to his memory he would have wanted."

  As I followed Veslin toward the back of the house I nodded in agreement with what he'd said, but couldn't help feeling a good deal of disappointment. If I wanted to solve my problem of being unarmed, it looked like rifling the rooms of my hosts was the only way I was going to do it.

  We walked through a narrow hall that was lit only by a small lamp at its far end, the dimness making it seem that the hall dead-ended at the lamp without giving access to anything other than that lamp and the wall it hung on. We were nearly at the end and I was about to say something, when Veslin moved to the left and opened a door I hadn't been able to see sooner. Once I was on top of it I could see it easily enough, and then I forgot everything else in favor of what it opened on.

  "This is my study," Veslin announced unnecessarily, stepping completely aside so as not to block sight of any part of the room. It wasn't very large, but as I moved through the doorway I could see that almost every inch of wall space was

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  taken up by shields, shields of every size and description, of every color of every House, of countries I recognized and those I didn't. The floor was polished wood and black leather chairs stood around with an occasional table or two, but nothing else was in the way to distract someone from all those beautiful shields. I turned in a slow circle, trying to take it in all at once, and then Kylin mentioned the point I'd noticed almost immediately.

  "They're all broken," he said, turning slowly the way I was doing, just as captured as I was. "They must all have come from different battlefields. How many of their owners lived through whatever broke their shields?"

  "Unfortunately, not many," Veslin answered, his voice sounding sad. "In some countries, no gentleman enters battle without a shield showing his device, and after a while, when his reputation has begun growing, that brings him those who will search out known fighters in a battle. The more well-known his device, the greater the number who will seek him, and after a certain amount of time the numbers have to go against even the best."

  "I've heard of the custom," I said, looking at one long shield that had obviously taken a lance or spear in its center. The device was a wild cat of some sort, golden on a bar of red, but the weapon that had entered it had obliterated the head and face of the cat. "I've never considered it a very smart custom, not when the boast of who you are can quickly make it become who you were."

  "Even the most cautious fighter tends to suffer from the same blind spot," Veslin said with a sadness-banishing chuckle. "If you're a Blade, then I have gold to wager on the fact that you wore your Company's medallion right out where everyone could see it, especially if you happen to be a member of a Fist. Do you need to be told that the stone indicating a Fist draws as many challengers as almost any device you might see here?"

  "No," I admitted with a chuckle of my own,
glancing around to share the amusement showing in his light, piercing eyes. "I am a member of a Fist, so I'd be a fool to take your bet. The ones who were almost sure they could take one of us went after Jak or Foist or Ham, while the ones who were utterly convinced went after RulJ. I usually got the ones who

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  were a little less than almost sure, the ones who thought they were playing it safe just in case. It never occurred to them that if I couldn't handle it, someone would have proved that long before they got there."

  An odd sound came from the third person in the room, and Veslin and 1 looked around to see that Kylin had turned his attention from the shields and was walking slowly back and forth across the floor. It was almost as if he were forcing himself to walk slowly and calmly, forcing himself to let go of very great anger, and I couldn't imagine what was wrong with him. Veslin's eyes suddenly filled with half-amused compassion as he rubbed at his face with two fingers, and then he turned toward the part of the room that was to the far left of the door we'd entered by.

  "Why don't you two come over here, and I'll pour us all some wine I don't share with just anyone," he said, moving to a large, round table surrounded by chairs, "I also have something rather special to show you, and since a story goes along with it the wine can be considered a necessity."

  There were five well-stuffed black leather chairs around the table, but what was on the table did more to take one's attention than the prospect of sitting comfortably. Aside from a crystal pitcher and half a dozen crystal goblets, the table beld a black leather box trimmed heavily with silver. The box wasn't quite long enough to take a decent-sized dagger, but it was about eight inches high or more, and the top of it was hinged as if it were a miniature trunk. The keyhole in its front, just below where the top of it met the body, seemed more ornate than most keyholes tend to be, leading an observer to wonder what sort of key it took to open the box.

  "Now, that's what I call interesting," Kylin said as he joined us at the table, letting his eyes move over the box. Whatever had been bothering him a minute ago seemed to be gone now, and I couldn't help noticing that he was very close on my right. If I hadn't been alert for a move like that he might have boxed me in, but his version of tactics did nothing more than accomplish his own outflanking. When he accepted a cup of wine from Veslin and sat down in the chair right beside me, he looked up to see that I'd moved to my left before accepting a cup, and was therefore taking my own seat with an empty chair between us. He then had the choice of

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  making himself look foolish by moving, or staying where he was. A moment of thought convinced him to stay where he was, but the lamplight reflected the darkening of his eyes.

  "Yes, interesting is what I thought too when I first saw the box," Veslin agreed with Kylin's comment, sitting to my left with his own silver-filled goblet. The crystal of the cup let the color of the wine show through, making it sparkle and flow as though we held cupfuls of moonlight. "It came to me a number of years ago, from the man who had done most to put an edge on my battle skills—and who had also been a priest of Evon. It had been years since I'd seen him last, and startled is too mild a word to describe what 1 felt when he sent for me. I hadn't even known he was in Gerfid, the town near where my unit was fighting,"

  Veslin slid forward in his chair and reached to the box, using one finger to gently flip open its lid. The inside of the box was lined with black velvet, and when I also leaned forward just a little J could see the pure, shining silver of what lay on the velvet. For an instant it flamed so bright I could make out nothing but the fact of silver, and then the glow settled down to separate into—two silver bracers!

  "But they're not a pair," I said, feeling, even as I said the words, that the protest was incorrect. It somehow seemed that the two bracers, mismatched in size though they were, belonged not simply together but almost in the same volume of air. If they had both been the same size, I think I would have looked for the mirror reflecting the image of a single creation.

  "They may not be a pair, but they have an interesting story behind them," Veslin said, now sitting back and sipping at his wine. "They were the reason my friend had sent for me, knowing as he did that he was dying. Go ahead, the two of you. I don't mind if you try them."

  It came to me then that Kylin was also leaning forward in his chair, as taken by the sight of the bracers as I was. I didn't know about him, but it had been all I could do to keep my hand from reaching out to the glowing beauty of what the box contained, as though I were a small child entranced by the glory of a flower or butterfly. I put down the goblet of my untasted wine and wiped my palms on the skirt of my dress, knowing I ought to be assuring Veslin that I didn't have to touch something that beautiful to appreciate it. I knew I

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  should refuse that outrageous a liberty even though it was so freely offered, but I found that 1 couldn't. I licked dry lips and tried to make the words come out, but simply couldn't. I had to touch that silver glory, I simply had to.

  I couldn't swear that my hand wasn't trembling as I reached down toward the box, and was only faintly aware of the fact that another hand was reaching at the same time from my right. I'd thought at first that the box wasn't large enough to accommodate two hands reaching into it, but 1 had slid my fingers inside the smaller bracer and was lifting it out when I realized that the same was being done with the other. For the briefest instant I was aware of that, and then I was aware of nothing but the silver magnificence 1 held.

  Whoever had made that bracer had to be as much of an artisan as an armorer. It was engraved with the most complex design I had ever seen, a pattern that sent my gaze deep into its intricacies and lost it there, forcing it to retreat in confusion rather than letting it find its way out. The bracer itself was thick, a good quarter inch of weight my fingers hadn't been expecting, worth a small fortune in coin if it was silver through and through, worth a good deal less to a fighter if it was. Silver is too soft a metal to stand up well in the place it would be needed, especially as a bracer, doubly especially with anyone who had been trained to use a bracer in place of a shield. I could imagine it breaking along with the arm it clung to at the first heavy blow it was asked to stop, but then the image flickered and disappeared. Something about the bracer said it would not fail, no matter how hard a blow came to it, and its beauty would not let me disbelieve.

  It was the fingers of my right hand that held it up while I inspected it closely, but it was the fingers of my left dial began working their way through the bracer's curving sides, pulling my wrist and arm after them. For a moment I was upset that I was slipping it on, feeling barely worthy enough to be allowed to look at it, but then I remembered that Veslin had said I could try it. The metal was cool and as smooth as fine silk, not a burr or a rough spot that my skin could detect, and once it was on it felt a lot lighter than it had when I'd simply been holding it. It wasn't terribly big, stretching no more than six inches or so up my arm, but its curving sides held it tightly in place, almost as though it were deliberately

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  wrapping itself all around and holding on. When 1 turned my arm over there was almost no skin showing between the curve of its edges, which for some reason was faintly surprising.

  "They seem to fit you two rather well, don't they?" Veslin said, and it came to me that those were the first words he'd said in quite some time. I glanced up to see that Kylin had also put on the bracer he'd taken from the box, and that he looked as though he'd just awakened from sleep. "They aren't silver, of course, only made to look like it, and the cost is the least of it. Who would want to go into battle wearing silver bracers?"

  "No one I know," Kytin said with a small laugh, looking down again at the bracer on his arm. I couldn't help doing the same, and then I laughed too. The bracer was beautiful, all right, but now that I looked at it more closel
y, I could see that silver was the last thing it was.

  "These bracers came to my friend as part of a legend," Veslin said, sipping with enjoyment at his wine. "While he was in full health he never believed any part of the legend, but once he began ailing it seemed to prey on his mind. He'd been given the box by an old friend of his many years earlier, just before that old friend had died. That's when he first heard the story, and by the time 1 reached him he was burningiy desperate to pass both story and box along to me. Please drink up, I think you'll find this wine worth the lasting."

  I saw I wasn't alone in having put my glass of wine down, and smiled to myself over how absurdly eager I'd been to try on a bracer that was pretending to be silver. The wine was silver, a silver classer from the eastern mountains, and once I'd retrieved my cup and tasted it saw that Veslin was right. It was worth a good deai more than a single sip, and possibly even more than a bracer that fit too well to be real silver.

  "It seems that the story involved is one you may have heard before," Veslin said, smiling at the very positive reactions to his special wine. "Most people have heard the legend of the time the gods battled, one or two of them trying to establish supremacy over the rest. Even men were caught up in that war, either as innocent victims of the forces unleashed by the terrible meetings, or as tools of the god or gods they followed. Those were the times whole forests went up in

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  flames, flowing rivers suddenly went dry, and entire sections of the eastern mountains were thrown shattered to the ground."

  "1 doubt if there's anyone alive who wasn't raised hearing those stories," Kylin said with a grin, the reaction of most educated people of our time who spoke of the legend. "I've heard it said that most of those things really did happen, but not for the reason the old storytellers insist."

  "The storytellers also insist that belief in the war has been taken away from men, so that it can be started up again some day," Veslin said, matching Kylin's grin. "Whatever the truth, the legend goes on to say that Evon was involved in that war in some way, and came down to our world to live among men for a time. While he was here he made a very special panoply, weapons and armor meant to be used against the spreading of evil, forging the lot and Grafting it only partly in the way of men. Every bit of it was made of silver, but certainly not of ordinary silver, and when the last piece of it was done he called a selected number of his followers to him. These followers he named his priests, and into the care of each he gave a different part of the panoply, instructing them to carry the parts out into the world, to find those who were worthy of bearing those parts into battle against the evil which threatened men and gods alike."