A Man Betrayed Read Online Free PDF Page B

he'd
decided that he looked like a legendary invader from beyond the Northern Ranges
and fancied that it added to his mystique.
    Borc, but he
needed a woman! Three weeks celibate! It was enough to drive a lesser man to
perversion. Not him, though. If he couldn't have a woman, then he preferred to
drink himself into oblivion each night. Unfortunately oblivion had its price.
His head felt dull and heavy from too much ale, and he. had to concentrate to
sit his stallion in the manner that befitted a lord.
    To add to his
troubles, the path they were traveling was steep and treacherous. He hated
riding downward. He preferred not to see the perils, just take them blindly.
However the way was so twisting and precarious that he was forced to bend all
his concentration to the task in hand.
    They had just come
upon a particularly hazardous trail, and were forced to ride one man at a time,
when Maybor felt his horse grow skittish. He pulled hard on the reins. This was
not the time for the creature to misbehave. He advanced a few feet farther and
then he felt the stallion tremble and lurch. The creature tossed its head and
tried to buck the lord from his back. Maybor was having none of this and pulled
on the reins with all his might. The horse became frantic and broke into a
gallop. Maybor could feel the wild pounding of its heart beneath his thighs.
Down the path it sprinted, forcing two other riders out of its way. Maybor was
becoming scared. He held on as the horse picked up speed.
    Then, suddenly, in
a scintilla of an instant, the horse dropped beneath him. Maybor was flung
forward by the force of his own momentum. He flew through the air and then down
the hillside. His body was thrown against rocks and stones. Pain burst into his
leg and back. Downward he careened toward a sheer drop.
    He saw it coming
and knew what it meant. He sped toward his end with a prayer on his lips. Then
he hit a rounded boulder. The rock bounced him like a ball and altered his
course. Instead of taking the drop, he landed, crash, in the middle of a growth
of thorny bushes.
    His head was
reeling, his leg splitting with pain. Thorns bit into his flesh, perilously
close to his vitals.
    Then the men were
upon him, helping him up and fussing and squawking. "Lord Maybor are you
all right?" said one sap-faced boy.
    "Of course
I'm not all right, you fool! I've just been hurled down a hillside!" And
then, as two others tried to pull him up, "Careful, you idiots. I am not a
wishbone to be pulled."
    "Is anything
broken, my lord?" ventured one of his captains.
    "How in
Borc's name would I know if anything is broken? Get me the surgeon."
    The captain
conferred with a junior for a moment. "The surgeon is awaiting your
pleasure where the ground is more stable."
    "You mean he
is too lily-livered to risk his neck by coming down here." Maybor slapped
hard at the man who was trying to free his leg from the bush. "Tell the
good surgeon that if he doesn't get down here this instant, I will personally
perform on him the only operation I know how to: castration!" Maybor made
sure his last word had enough strength to carry up the hillside.
    Eventually he was
freed from the bush and placed on a litter. Two soldiers carried him back to
the path. The party had halted and tents were being raised. The first tent up
was the surgeon's and Maybor was duly ushered in.
    "So tell me,
physician. Are there any bones a'broken?" Maybor was in considerable pain,
but was not about to betray that fact to anyone else.
    "Well, my
lord, these things are hard to ascertain-"
    "All you
damned physicians are the same," interrupted Maybor. "Mincing around
the facts. Never committing yourselves to anything more than a maybe.
Aagh!" The last syllable was uttered as the surgeon removed a long spiky
thorn from the lord's posterior. Maybor looked around in time to see a smug
expression quickly concealed. "Are they all out, then?"
    "Yes, my
lord."
    "Are you
quite sure you wouldn't like a conference to confirm