Ravenheart Read Online Free PDF Page A

to his frame and strength to his arm, Mulgrave knew.
    Toward the end of the session Mulgrave allowed the young noble to score a partial hit. He did not want the lad to become discouraged.
    “Enough!” said the master, offering a bow to his opponent. Gaise returned it, then swept the mask from his face, tossing it to the grass. His golden hair was sweat-streaked, his face red from his exertions—except for the star-shaped scar upon his cheekbone, which remained bone-white. Mulgrave removed his face guard and placed it on the ground.
    “By the Sacrifice, you are not even warm, sir,” Gaise said with a sudden smile.
    Mulgrave gave the young noble a warning look, and the smile faded. Gaise unbuckled his quilted chest guard and glanced up at the house. A silver-haired figure dressed all in black was standing at the balcony rail, looking down on them. Then he was gone.
    The fencing master saw the look of sadness that came to the young man’s face. There was nothing Mulgrave could say or do. “You are moving well, my lord,” he told the young man. “You almost had me in trouble twice.”
    “I think that he hates me,” said Gaise.
    Mulgrave took a deep, slow breath. “Your history teacher is due soon, sir. You should get out of those sweat-drenchedclothes and towel yourself down. This is the weather for chills to take hold.”
    “Aye, ’tis a chilly house,” Gaise Macon said sadly.
    Mulgrave wanted to throw his arm around the young man’s shoulder and say something to cheer him, but he guessed that the Moidart would be watching them from behind a curtain at one of the upper windows. It saddened Mulgrave to think that Gaise had every reason to believe his father disliked him. They rarely spoke unless it was for the Moidart to criticize some aspect of the youth’s behavior, and often Gaise carried bruises on his face or arms that Mulgrave guessed came from beatings.
    Mulgrave had been bodyguard to the Moidart as well as martial instructor to Gaise Macon for three years now and in that time had seen much of the Moidart’s cruelty.
    “This afternoon we will try out the new pistols,” said Mulgrave. “They are beautifully balanced.”
    “I will look forward to it,” answered Gaise.
    How can the Moidart dislike the lad so? wondered Mulgrave. He is considerate and kind, deferential in all his dealings with his father, and has shown great dedication in learning the martial skills of riding, fencing, and shooting.
    Mulgrave looked into the youth’s odd-colored eyes, one green and one tawny gold. “You did well, sir,” he said. “I’m proud of you.”
    “That means a great deal to me,” answered Gaise. “I shall go and change my clothes. Would you make my apologies to Mr. Shaddler and tell him I will be with him presently?”
    “Of course, sir.”
    Mulgrave watched the youth run lightly up the steps to the side doors. Just then the tall, spidery figure of Alterith Shaddler came into view. Mulgrave removed his chest guard and offered the teacher a short bow. “Good day to you, sir teacher,” said the swordsman.
    “And to you, Master Mulgrave. I trust that you are well.”
    “I am, sir. Lord Gaise has asked me to convey his apologiesfor lateness. Our practice was delayed, and he is changing his clothing.”
    “The martial skills are always considered ahead of the cerebral,” Alterith said without bitterness.
    “Sadly, sir, I must agree with you. A true student of history would learn of the endless stupidity war brings out in men.”
    “And the nobility, Master Mulgrave,” admonished the teacher. “That, too.”
    “Indeed. Nobility is found in great quantities among warriors. It is notably lacking, I find, in those who send them to war.”
    Alterith Shaddler blinked and licked his lips. “I must have misunderstood you, sir, for your words could be seen as a criticism of the king.”
    Mulgrave smiled. “We were talking of matters historical, sir. Not political. For example, one could read the essays on