Eric Van Lustbader - The Sunset Warrior - SW1

Eric Van Lustbader

Sw1 Sunset Warrior

Volume 1 of the Sunset Warrior Sequence

PART ONE

Echoes To survive is not enough. - Bujun saying

Ronin was dying and he did not know it.

He lay quite still and completely naked on the centre of an elliptical stoneslab which occupied roughly the centre of a square, cold chamber. Despite this,tiny beads of sweat glinted in the bristles of his short, black hair. His finefeatures held no expression whatsoever.

Standing over him, bent, eyes intent, was Stahlig, the Medicine Man.Ronin tried to relax, thinking, This is all a waste of time, as Stahlig'sfingers probed and pushed at his chest, moving slowly down towards his ribs onthe left side. He tried not to think of it but his muscles had a will of theirown and they betrayed him, jumping in pain under the thick fingers.

'Uhm,' Stahlig grunted. 'Very recent'.

Ronin stared at the ceiling; at nothing. What was bothering him? It wasmerely a fight.

Merely? His lips curled in distaste. A brawl; rolling in the Corridorlike a common - abruptly remembrance blossomed.

His bare arms slick with sweat, his thick sword just sheathed, heavy athis side, his hands light after almost a full Spell of Combat practice. Walkingalone and distracted out of the Hall of Combat into a knot of people, all atonce surrounded by loud voices disclaiming hotly, stupidly, and he paid noattention. Something pushed against him and a voice cut through the din.

'And where are you going?' It was cold and affected and belonged to atall, thin, blond man who wore the obliquely striped chest bands of theChondrin. Black and gold: Ronin did not recognize the colours. Behind the blondman on either side stood five or six Bladesmen wearing the same colours.Apparently they had stopped a cluster of Students on their way from practice.

He could not think why.

'Answer, Student!' the Chondrin commanded. His thin face was verywhite, dominated by a waxy nose. His high cheeks were pocked and a scar randown like a tear from the corner of one eye so that it appeared lower than theother one.

Ronin was momentarily amused. He was a Bladesman and thereforepractised with other Bladesmen. But these days he did not have much to do andboredom had led him to practice with the Students also. When he did that, asnow, he wore plain clothes and those who did not know him took him for aStudent.

'Where I go and what I do is my own affair' Ronin said blandly.'What isyour business with these Students?' The Chondrin goggled at him, stretching hisneck forward like a reptile about to strike, and two spots of colour appearedhigh on his cheeks, accentuating the whiteness of the pockmarks.

'Where are your manners, Student?' he said menacingly. 'Speak withdeference to your betters.

Now answer the question.' Ronin's hand strayed to the hilt of his swordbut he said nothing.

'Well,' sneered the Chondrin, 'it appears this Student is in need of alesson.' As if the words were a signal, the Bladesmen rushed at Ronin. Too latehe realized that he could not draw his sword rapidly within the confines of thecrowd. Then they were piling into him, the sheer force of their combined weightbearing him to the ground, and he thought, I do not believe this is happening.Instinctively he kicked out as he was borne under, and had the satisfaction offeeling his boot smash into flesh that gave way. Almost at the same moment, ablow along the side of his head disrupted his enjoyment. Adrenalin spurted andhe punched up and out, and even though he was on his back and the leverage wasnot there, he felt his fist connect as it split open skin, cracked into bone.He heard a brief wail.

Then the boot caught him in the side and a thick gauze came down overhis brain. He tried to hit again, could not, struggled with an enormous weighton his chest. His lungs were on fire and he felt ashamed. When the boot hit himagain, he passed out.

The wave of pain came again but this time he had it under control andthere was only the slightest movement. He looked at the wide head bent over himwith its shaggy brows, rheumy eyes, and creased forehead.

'Ach!' exclaimed the Medicine Man, as much to himself as to Ronin.'What have you been up to, ah?' He shook his head and, without looking atRonin, turned and put a dark, furry cloth against the mouth of an opaquewhite-glass bottle, and turned it upside down. He applied the cloth to Ronin'sside. It was cold and the pain subsided.

'So. Dress and come inside.' He threw the cloth over the back of a hardchair and disappeared through a doorway. Ronin sat up, his side stiff but nowwithout pain, pulled on his leggings and shirt, then his low leather boots. Hestood to strap on his sword, then followed in the wake of Stahlig's body into awarmly lighted cubicle in sharp contrast to the starkly geometrical surgeryoutside.

Here all was a jumble. Shelves of bound papers and tablets rose likewild ivy from floor to ceiling along three walls. Occasionally gaps appeared inthe contents of the shelves, or markers stuck out at odd angles. Stahlig's deskwas set close to the far wall, and it was covered completely by mounds ofpapers and tablets, as were the two small chairs set before the desk.

Behind the Medicine Man lay glass cases filled with phials and boxes.

Stahlig did not look up from his work as Ronin entered but he reachedout behind him and got a clear bottle of amber wine, and from somewhereproduced two metal cups, which he blew into perfunctorily before filling themhalfway. He looked up then as he held one out. Ronin took it, and Stahlig satback and waved an arm expansively.

'Sit,'he said.

Ronin had to set his cup down in order to clear away the masses oftablets from the chair. He hesitated with them in his arms.

'Oh, drop them anywhere,' said Stahlig with a flick of his thick hand.

Ronin sat and sipped, felt the sweet wine unroll its carpet of warmthalong his throat and into his stomach. He took a long swallow.

Stahlig leaned forward, elbows on the masses of tablets, fingerssteepled, his thumbs tapping absently at his upper lip. He said: 'Tell me whathappened.' Ronin, swirling the wine slowly in his cup, said nothing. He satvery straight because of his side.

The Medicine Man dropped his eyes, crumpled a sheet of paper, and threwit into a corner apparently without caring where it landed. 'So.' He sighedaudibly, and when he spoke again his voice had softened perceptibly. 'You donot wish to speak of it, yet I know something troubles you.' Ronin looked up.'Oh, yes, the old man still sees and feels.' He hunched forward over the deskagain.

He stared at Ronin. 'Tell me, how long do we know each other?' Hisfingers moved along the desktop. 'Since you were very young, since before yoursister dis - ' He stopped abruptly and colour came to his worn cheeks. 'I - 'Ronin shook his head. 'You will not hurt me if you say it,' he said softly. 'Iam beyond that.' Stahlig said quickly, 'Since before her disappearance,' as if,even in speech, it was a terrible thing to linger over. 'A long time we knoweach other. Yet you will not speak to me of what troubles you.' His hands cametogether again. 'You will leave here and go and talk to Nirren' - his voice hadacquired a hard edge - 'your friend. Ha! He is a Chondrin, Estrille's Chondrin,and what is his first concern? You are without affiliation - you have noSaardin to order you or protect you. He is without feelings, that one. Hepretends friendship, for information. That is after all one of his functions.'Ronin put down his cup. Another time he might have been angry with Stahlig.But, he thought, he truly likes me, watches out for me, he does not realize -yet I must remember that he fears many things, some justly, others not. He iswrong about Nirren.

'No one knows better than I the deviousness of Chondrin,' he said. 'Youknow this. If Nirren seeks information from me, he is welcome to it.' 'Ach!'Stahlig's fingers flailed the air. 'You are not a political animal.' Roninlaughed. 'True,' he said. 'Oh, how very true.' The Medicine Man frowned. 'I donot believe you realize the precariousness of the situation.