Dave Duncan - Seventh Sword 1, Reluctant Swordsman

Murderous noon; the birds were silent in the trees, the gardening slaves moved listlessly, staying out of the light, and even insects were silent. The line of pilgrims kneeling on the temple steps melted and groaned under the lash of a sadistic sun. Only the River continued to move and make noise as the World endured, praying for evening.

The parade ground was deserted and hot as a griddle. Three people came around the corner of the barracks, past the fencing area. With every man in the guard now searching for Lord Shonsu, there was no one there to notice the trio. They marched unseen across the parade ground toward the jail, floating on their shadows in the white glare.

The man in front was a swordsman of the Fourth, resplendent in a very new orange kilt. His ponytail was inky black. So was the expression on his face. He had very nearly mutinied against his sworn liege lord and had spoken not a word since the slaves had smeared his hair with lampblack and grease.

The man at the back was a short, dark-haired First. With awkward gait, sword tilted, facemark swollen, kilt sparkling white, and much-too-short hair, he was an obvious scratcher. Even the stunned look in his dark eyes proclaimed that. He clutched a rope, whose other end was knotted about the neck of the captive being brought in. She was huge and very ugly for a woman. Her black hair was much too long for a slavesloosely flopping curls, still smelling of hot iron. Her black, all-enveloping garment might have belonged to the infamous Wild Ani, and, it bulged oddly, as though the wearer were deformed.

The heat inside the pillows was incredible. It was dangerous, Wallie knew. Even if he did not collapse from heat prostration, he was weakening steadily. He could hardly see for the sweat running into his eyes and he dared not wipe them, because he must pretend that his hands were tied behind him. No sane swordsman would ever expect Lord Shonsu of the Seventh to dress like that. He had refrained from faking a facemark, partly out of consideration for Nnanjis feelings, but also because if anyone got that close to him, the pretense would be over. Apart from his size, though, he could pass as a slave at a distance. He kept his stride short, he crouchedand he sweltered.

Before the jail had been fitted with a new roof, it might have been possible to rescue a prisoner without the guards knowing, but now the only entrance was through the door, and that led into the guard room. The door was open. The newcomers marched straight through.

Briu of the Fourth was playing dice at a table with two Seconds. Three slaves were sitting on the floor in a corner, picking lice out of clothes. They looked up and saw swordsmen bringing in a new prisoner.

Katanji, in his so-brief career, had been taught only one piece of swordsmanship. This was a maneuver that no other swordsman had ever been taught. He performed it now, twirling around and kneeling down with his head bent. The female slave pulled the sword from his scabbard, and put the point at Brius throat before he could draw.

It would have to be you, wouldnt it? Wallie said. Keep your hands on the table and order your men to do the same.

Brius impassive face hardly changed expression. He glanced over Wallie, took in Nnanji with a hint of surprise, and then placed his hands on the table. The Seconds followed suit without being ordered; they looked stunned.

Why is it always you that I damage? Wallie demanded. I had no quarrel with you, yet every time I do anything I mess up Adept Briu. You are Tarrus vassal?

I refuse to answer that question.

Hes hunting me down. He plans to torture me to make me tell him where the sword is. Do you deny it?

No. Nor do I confirm it.

How does a man of honor feel about this?

Brius eyes narrowed. What makes you think I am a man of honor?

Nnanji said so, about two minutes before you challenged him that first morning.

He was lying.

I dont think he was.

Briu shrugged. Any crime committed by a vassal is laid to the account of his liege. If I am Tarrus vassal as you claim, then I am sworn to absolute obedience, and my honor is of no account.

Why would you swear that oath to such a man? inquired Nnanjis soft voice from behind Wallies shoulder. He sounded bitter.

I might ask you the same question, adept, Briu said.

Nnanji made a choking sound, then said, You saw Shonsu go into the water. You, better than any, know that his sword was a miracle!

Briu stared at him stoically. I did not do a good job of instructing you in the third oath when I was your mentor, adept. Let us see how I did otherwise. If a commander is corrupt, whose duty is it to do something about it?

After a moment, Nnanji whispered, His deputys.

How? What should he do?

Challenge, if he is good enough. Else go and find a stronger force. It was a quotation. He sounded like Briu as he said it.

Briu nodded. Yet your Lord Shonsu let Tarru live, when he was obviously guilty.

That, Wallie knew, had been his first error. The god had told him that harsh measures would be necessary. At their very first meeting, he had warned that an honorable swordsman would feel it his duty to kill Hardduju and to restore the honor of the craft. He had even dropped a broad hint when he mentioned Napoleon, for Napoleon had been king of Elba, briefly. By sparing Tarru, Wallie had betrayed the honest men in the guard. He should have killed Tarru out of hand, taken charge, and put the Fifths on trial right there, calling for denunciations... but he had not.

I admit the error, Wallie said. Nnanji almost pointed it out to me right afterward, on the temple steps. But since then I have been Tarrus guest.

Briu ran contempt over him like a blowtorch. You had plenty of chances, and excuses. He swore Gorramini and Ghaniri by the third oath, and set them on Nnanji. Then he went to work on the Fifths. Did you not know?

A Seventh should not take this from a Fourth, but Wallie was feeling too guilty to be assertive. I suspected.

So? Briu demanded. If you had done something and called for help, do you think the rest of us would have stood idly by? We wanted leadership! We wanted our honor back! None of us was perfect, but... He paused, and then looked down at the table. There was one. If the rest of us had been half as honorable as he, we would have mutinied years ago.

Wallies excuse would never pass a swordsmanhe had been trying to prevent bloodshed. He had spared Tarru, one man. When Nnanji had mentioned the stables, he had recoiled from the thought of killing three men. Yet every delay had raised the price. If somehow he could escape now, then the cost in lives must be much higher.

Before he could speak, Briu looked up again, redfaced and glaring. Even this morning! Gorramini was betrayed! Yet you did nothing !

I am doing something now, Wallie said firmly.

Briu looked again at the slave costume and spat.

Shonsus temper flamed. Wallie suppressed it with difficulty. You have a priest here, and I am going to take him. Then I am leaving. How? The Goddess will attend to the honor of Her guard. It was not the task She gave me.

Briu shrugged and went back to brooding over his hands on the table.

Why did you swear the third oath to Tarru? Nnanji asked again.

My wife had just given birth to twin sons, adept, Briu said. She needs to eat, and so do they. When you are older, you will understand.

Swordsmen were addicted to fearsome oaths, but they were human.

Briu, Wallie said, my story is too long to explain here. But I admit my error. If I get a chance to correct it, then I shall. I do have a task for the Goddess. I need honest men to help. Is your wife well enough to travel?