The Destiny of the Sword

by David Duncan

  Swordsmen! She ground her teeth. She still had all her teeth.

  Swordsmen in sixes. Swordsmen in dozens. They postured and they marched, they bullied and they lechered. She dodged angrily as a sword whistled-a Fifth leading ten men was saluting a Sixth with five. No one was safe anymore!

  Daily the victims appealed to the temple-men mutilated or beaten, girls ravished, householders impoverished and driven out. The priests could give them little but solace. Daily, Priestess Huli gave thanks to the Holiest that, being a woman of the cloth, she was sacrosanct and safe from molestation. Of course those young debauchers normally preyed on less mature women than she, so that was another protection.

  The tryst had turned the city sideways. Even her own humble existence... she had been giving very serious thought to accepting a proposal of marriage-from Jinjino of the Fourth, a most respected draper, a dignified and prosperous widower, father of three children who dearly needed a loving mother to teach them some manners. She had almost decided to accept. He had made most solemn promises that his demands on her person would be moderate and discreet. And now he had fled town, taking his children with him. That was something of a disappointment. The eldest was only twelve and even these sword-waving boors did not descend to that.

  She scowled at the sight of three swordsmen encircling a young female, leering and bantering. Lewd humor, no doubt! She wondered if she could find the courage to intervene. They were only juvenile Seconds, but they were very large, rough-looking types. She paused in her progress, irresolute. Then she noticed with horror that the woman was obviously enjoying the attention-wanton! Huli continued on her way, frowning in disgust.

  The wide plaza was always busy, but it was so vast that in ordinary times it could handle its traffic easily and still seem comparatively peaceful. On a normal day there might be a dozen ships tied up along the front, loading and unloading. Now there must be fifty, an almost continuous line of them, and the crowds swarmed everywhere. It was not only swordsmen who had invaded Casr, but their followers, also, from babes in arms to whores and cutthroats. Madhouse!

  The problem was in knowing who to blame. The most holy Lord Kadywinsi, high priest of Casr, was the obvious culprit, but she could hardly bring herself to pass judgment on a man so revered and venerable, even if he was, just perhaps, maybe, a tiny bit... senile? Be charitable, she told herself as she detoured around a wagon to avoid a group of pedestrian-baiting young swordsmen, the holy lord is not the man he was when you were a novice, but he is still worthy of your respect.

  A blue ship, she had been told, by the double statue. There was a small blue ship visible in the distance now.

  And if Kadywinsi of the Seventh was not at fault, it was certainly not Priestess Hull's place to criticize the Goddess.

  She had been unsuspecting and excited that day two weeks back, when word had flashed around the temple that the castellan, the charming and handsome Lord Tivanixi, had ridden in with his men and had persuaded the high priest to join with him in calling a tryst. A tryst! It would be the first in centuries, if the Holiest heard their plea, and of course the risk involved was so terrifying! She had thought she might faint with horror as she had watched the ceremony. Forty-nine bullocks, poor things, the water scarlet and foaming, and the two valiant lords actually wading into the River behind them! She still perspired with horror at the thought.

  Such faith! And so wonderfully blessed by the Most High! It had been less than an hour before the ships had begun arriving with swordsmen on board.

  The blame, then, must be laid to Lord Tivanixi, for failing to control the swordsmen when they had come. But he was so handsome!

  Suddenly she heard boots running. "Challenge!" shouted male voices. Swordsmen went running by her, and all the unattached swordsmen in the area took off after them, vanishing up a side street. Well! That certainly cleared this area for a while. She wondered if there would shortly be one less swordsman around to bully the innocent civilians, then reproved herself for an uncharitable thought. They were still arriving much faster than they were killing one another off.

  Now she had reached the two bronze statues, so corroded that it was impossible to tell whether they represented men or women. There was the blue ship, as she had been told. She squared her shoulders and marched up the plank, then paused to look around the deck. She had never been on a ship before. It was not a large ship, but it was clean and smelled pleasantly of leather. Two or three sailors were sitting around and one of them rose and came over. He wore a knife, so he must be in charge. A Third, like herself... but she had been instructed to make the salute to a superior-a shameful concession from a priestess! His manner was not very respectful, but he responded smartly.

  "I have a message for 'a swordsman of high rank,' Captain."

  Rudely, the sailor jerked his head toward a door at the rear. With a sniff, Huli marched over to it and went in, finding a big, bright, almost bare room. A young slave woman was kneeling in the corner, entertaining three or four small children. A man rose from a large wooden chest where he had been sitting. A Seventh! And huge! His head and sword hilt almost touched the ceiling. Most of the swordsmen who had invaded Casr were slim, wiry men, but this one was a giant. A fine figure of a man, she admitted, and discovered to her astonishment that he was giving her a friendly smile, and that she was returning it. This was certainly the highrank she had been sent to find, so she saluted.

  He responded.

  Shonsu!

  Of course! She had seen him many times in the distance-but he was supposed to have died! She staggered and then recovered herself with an effort. The infamous Shonsu come back! But...

  He had noticed her reaction and his smile had gone. She did not like what had replaced it.

  "In what way may I serve you, holy lady?"

  Huli pulled her wits together. No wonder she had been warned not to discuss this. "I have a message for you, my lord, from a priest of the seventh rank." That was an odd way to describe Lord Kadywinsi, but it was what she had been told to say. There were no other priests of that rank in Casr, so who else could it be from?

  "Come out of the closet at last, has he?"

  "My lord?"

  The swordsman laughed. "Forgive me, priestess. The message, if you please?"

  Huli took a deep breath and repeated the words she had been given. " 'The person of whom you inquired was born far off, arrived two years ago, and is unmarried, but has children. He held the office we understood and departed at the time we thought. He was believed dead, but there have recently been rumors. I shall remain at the temple until tomorrow.' "

  It was demeaning for a priestess of her rank to be used as a common herald, and not to be told what it was all about, either, but she served the Goddess as her superiors decided. Now she had completed this trivial errand and could get back to... thought to have died... came two years ago? That message could apply to Shonsu himself!

  "I thank you, priestess. There will be no reply, I think." The swordsman was studying her carefully, almost as if he could read her thoughts. "May we offer you refreshment before you depart?"

  Huli stuttered a refusal. Shonsu! She wanted to get away by herself and think. What rumors? Shonsu was supposed to have been killed by sorcerers. Had not this terrible tryst been called to avenge him?

  She made her formal farewell, hurried along the deck without a glance at the sailors, and almost ran down the plank. Shonsu come back? Casr had been well rid of Shonsu...

  Angry and upset, Priestess Huli marched off across the sun-bright plaza, with the wind whipping and tugging at her brown robe. She barely noticed the lanky, red-haired swordsman of the Fourth who strode past her, wearing an expression of black despair.

  ††

  Most cities presented a façade of warehouses to the River, but not Casr. Ships tied up alongside a wide plaza that ran off endlessly in both directions along the waterfront. Behind it loomed tall buildings and the entrances to wide streets, yet the general effect was one of improvisat
ion. The buildings ranged through every architectural style imaginable-some old and some ancient, some smart and imposing, others crumbling and half in ruins. Arches and pillars and domes mingled at random among minarets and pilasters and arcades. Fragments of old walls jutted up in places, and the streets changed without warning from great avenues to narrow alleys like canyons, rolling up and down from one level to another as if the remains of a dozen cities had been shoveled out of a box. The only consistency was in color, for everything from the towers to the pavement was made of a shiny bronze stone like old gold, and even the scattered trees, those that had leaves remaining, glittered to match. Many of the windows sported bright-hued awnings, reds and blues and greens, like flashings of fire from a diamond.

  Casr was old. Its statues had weathered to shapeless monoliths; the stone bollards along the waterfront were worn into mushrooms by the windings of centuries.

  Wallie had sent his troops out to scout, while he spent the morning skulking in the deckhouse, almost as if Casr were a sorcerer city.

  The usual wagons and heaps of trade goods were in evidence, and the gangs of dock slaves labored in Casr as in all ports. The traders and hawkers and busy citizens roamed as always, yet there was much less crowding and jostling than elsewhere, because of the sheer vastness of the plaza. In Casr business proceeded with more decorum and much less noise. The only thing hurrying was the wind, sweeping leaves along as if impatient to clean up before winter, flapping awnings like dust rags.

  Everywhere were swordsmen. Not in one or twos, as at Tau, but in sixes or dozens, marching along with a senior in front, usually a green-kilted Sixth, rarely a red Fifth, and very rarely a blue Seventh. Browns were most common, of course, but there were absurd numbers of fresh-faced Firsts and Seconds, who would be more or less useless, mere errand boys and extra mouths to feed.

  Even from the ship Wallie could detect tension in Casr. Gangs of small children ran along behind the troops sometimes, shouting rudenesses, and they would be taking that attitude from their elders. Swordsmen expected cheering, not jeering. He thought he saw some unobtrusive fist-waving from adults and certainly he saw petty pilfering, girls being accosted, men being roughly shouldered aside or insulted. If such things were going on in public, what was happening behind the shutters?

  Free swords lived on charity, a primitive form of taxation. Such extortion was bearable for a night or two when a troop arrived in a town or village to clean up any crime that the garrison could not handle, to confirm that the resident swordsmen were themselves honest, to tumble the best-looking girls, and then to move on. A large city would hardly notice them, but even one as large as Casr would be reeling from this invasion. All these men must expect to eat regularly and sleep somewhere. And certainly not sleep alone, not swordsmen! Hundreds of active young men with nothing much to keep them occupied-who was in charge of this zoo? Who had been so brash as to call a tryst?

  Wallie had kept his sword on his back, prepared to run down and intervene if he noticed any serious disturbances, but that had not been necessary. Yet obviously the tryst was chaos in spades. He wanted nothing to do with it.

  Then came the message from Honakura, brought by a sour-faced priestess, and that was good news. To learn that Shonsu had no parents or other family in Casr gave Wallie a huge sense of relief. Lunch was almost due. He decided to celebrate with a tankard of beer and asked Jja to fetch it for him. Before he could drink, Nnanji's boots thumped on the deck, and he strode in, dusty and hot. His normal carefree cheerfulness had been replaced by an ominous angry scowl.

  Wallie held out the beer: "My goods are your goods," he said.

  Nnanji shook his bead. "No thank you, brother. I've been having that stuff thrust at me all morning."

  A Fourth would be a good catch, a very tall and unusually young Fourth. The recruiting was blatant and ferocious. As soon as Sapphire had docked and the port officer had gone ashore again, no less than eight swordsmen had tried to come aboard, hunting for newcomers. Brota had donned her sword and stood at the top of the plank and glared, huge and red and ugly, a swordsman's nightmare. She had kept them away, but obviously Nnanji would have run into the problem in the town.

  "How many times were you propositioned?" Wallie asked.

  His protégé scowled and counted on his fingers. "Thirteen!" He shook his head, changed his mind, took the tankard, and drained it. Yet obviously it was not the recruiting that had been worrying him. There was something else.

  "What did you say?" inquired Wallie, amused.

  "Just that I had a mentor already. Then they wanted to know who and what rank; I quoted one seventy-five at them! Acch!"

  Then Thana came in. Nnanji grabbed her to administer a long and doubtless beery kiss.

  Jja tactfully shepherded the children out. Wallie seated himself on the chest by the window, where he had spent the morning. Nnanji and Thana settled on the other, arms around each other, and Wallie told them of Honakura's message.

  Then Katanji strolled in, looking cheerful. He, also, had been scouting. His injured arm relieved him of the obligation to wear a sword, and probably that had been a big advantage for him, Wallie thought.

  "Take a seat, novice," he said jovially, waving at the floor. "I don't suppose the press-gangs bothered you much?"

  Katanji sank down cross-legged and grinned. "They did, my lord! Four times! Of course they could tell a good man when they saw one!"

  Wallie was startled. If a crippled First was in demand, then the battle for numbers was being carried beyond all reason.

  "Well, let's have the news," he said. "Novice?"

  Katanji looked pleased with himself. He reported as if he had been rehearsing: "Lord Shonsu was previous castellan of the lodge. He came from somewhere far away, and I don't think he was married. He left about half a year ago and never came back. The new castellan is more popular."

  "Where did you find this out?" Wallie asked.

  He smirked. "At the stews, my lord. I asked some other people. All of them just laughed and said to go there and ask. So I did. The girls all knew Shonsu. I said he was my uncle and the Goddess had brought me to Casr, and I was trying to find him. He was a frequent customer, my lord, although he usually didn't pay. But the girls..." The smirk became a leer. "They shed no tears over his departure, I fancy."

  Wallie knew of Shonsu's demonic sex drive and he had seen the petty pilfering going on at the hawkers' carts. Same principle.

  "Nobody seems to know where Shonsu went or why. He just disappeared. I think that's all, my lord."

  "Well done, novice," Wallie said. "Did you spend much on expenses?"

  Katanji hesitated and then regretfully said, "No, my lord. The elders have declared the brothels free for swordsmen."

  That was interesting. "Busy, are they?"

  Katanji chuckled. "They were pleased to have the chance to just talk, my lord!"

  He had probably done very well even to get the chance to talk to them, being only a First. "You just talked?" Wallie demanded disbelievingly.

  Katanji opened his eyes very wide "My mentor has frequently impressed upon me, Lord Shonsu, the need to uphold the honor of the craft!" Nnanji snarled at the impudence.

  Wallie laughed. "How about the other matter?"

  "I did some checking, my lord." Katanji studied Wallie with mingled admiration and perplexity. "Yes, prices have fallen. How did you guess?"

  "Prices of what?" Nnanji demanded.

  "Gems," Wallie said. "And Lina is screaming that the cost of food has gone up. I'll give you all a lecture on it tonight, if you're interested. What did you discover, brother?"

  Nnanji disengaged his arm from Thana and clasped his large hands on his knees. "Not much about Shonsu himself. The castellan before him was a Seventh named Narrinko. Shonsu came to town, fancied the job, and killed him."

  "Nasty! What did the elders say?"

  Nnanji rubbed his chin-and Wallie knew where he had picked up that gesture. "They don't seem to have any say, brother. This i
s a lodge city; it seems they're different. There is no garrison, no reeve. The castellan keeps order with whoever happens to be around."

  Then it was the present castellan's fault that the city was such a madhouse now.

  "The lodge is independent?" Thana said. "That's how the sorcerers' towers are, isn't it? At least I assume it is-the port officers always welcomed the ship on behalf of the elders and the wizard. In swordsmen towns they don't mention reeve. Curious!"

  That was the first time Wallie had ever heard anyone on the ship express an interest in politics, and he was suddenly filled with admiration for Honakura's acumen. Lady Macbeth!

  "Shonsu was a collector," Nnanji went on. He frowned in disapproval-and that was a surprise from Nnanji.

  "What's that, Nanj?" asked Katanji.

  "A killer," Nnanji said, too intent on his reporting to notice the informality. "Collects dead men's swords. It seems he organized an expedition against the sorcerers. It wasn't a tryst, of course. Fifty men, I heard, and somehow he did it in secret. One day they just vanished. None of them ever returned." Startled silence.

  The demigod had said that Shonsu had failed disastrously. Wallie shivered at the thought of fifty young men running into armed sorcerers and being mowed down. "But what city? Why did we never hear of this on the other bank?"

  Nnanji shrugged. "There are no swordsmen in town who knew Shonsu. He took them all. The guess is that he landed at some village jetty and set off to attack Vul itself."

  "Gods!" Wallie exclaimed. "He went for a kill! I wonder if that's what the tryst is planning?"

  Nnanji said he did not know. He was beginning to look very uneasy again, and Thana, sensing it, was studying him carefully.

  "Tell me the bad news then," Wallie said.

  Nnanji clenched his hands together once more and stared at them. "A few weeks later, early in summer, so I was told, the sorcerers in Aus paraded a swordsman through the streets." He stopped talking, but they all knew the rest-the swordsman had been crawling naked on his belly.