The Dark Glory War Read Online Free PDF Page A

down the table, bending to sniff the various vintages. Rounce stood with him and Leigh would announce a district and year for each wine offered, with Rounce confirming each judgment. This continued until Leigh bumped into someone on his right and, without even looking at the person, snapped at him in a rather imperious tone.
    “Give way, sir, for my mission is most urgent.”
    “While most take their wine through the mouth, looks as if you sniff it up, ay?”
    Leigh’s head turned slightly in the speaker’s direction, and I knew he caught a glimpse of the man’s black homespun trousers and polished but well-worn boots. Unfortunately, bent over as he was, Leigh wasn’t in a good position to judge just how big this man was. “I said, give way, good fellow.”
    “Not ‘sir’ no more?”
    ILeigh turned and straightened up, then was forced to crane his neck back to look up past the man’s heavily muscled chest and shoulders to his face. A thick shock of red hair capped the man’s head, and freckles could be seen spreading over his cheeks below the moonmask. Green eyes glittered emeraldlike in the mask, and I spotted a trident below the right eye. The man wore a black linen tunic, with a band of white cloth tied around his left biceps. An evil grin split his face.
    “Perhaps,good fellow” Leigh persisted, “I should acquaint you with the manners prized in society.”
    The man raised his right hand and curled it into a fist that would have filled a fair-sized mixing bowl. “Perhaps I should acquaint you with my fist.”
    “Easy, friend, easy.” I stepped forward and wedged myself between him and Leigh. “You’ve been lucky enough to be chosen to be here tonight. Stretch that luck and avoid a fight.”
    “I ain’t your friend.”
    “No, but weall are marked by Kedyn. That must count for something.” I grinned up at him and offered him my right hand. “I am Tarrant Hawkins.”
    The larger man nodded his head slowly, then opened his right hand and engulfed mine in his grip. “Naysmith Carver, armorer’s apprentice. Have a mind to be using what I made, not be making more.” A smile slowly followed his words and I shook his hand heartily.
    Freeing my hand from his, I turned, forcing Leigh and Rounce back a bit. “Bosleigh Norrington you have met. This is Rounce Playfair.”
    “Pleased,” Rounce offered.
    “As well.” Naysmith glanced down at Leigh. “The wine to the end is the best, if you be continuing down that way.”
    Leigh blinked, then nodded. A smile grew on his face as he slipped round me and past Naysmith. “Say, Nay—oh, my, that rhymes—say, Nay, how went your day?” He laughed to himself. “So lyrical, that.”
    Naysmith’s eyes narrowed.
    I held a hand up. “Forgive him, please, Naysmith. He’s just excited and gets like that. Mid-Summer’s Eve and all.”
    “A good slap will fix that, ay?”
    Leigh plucked a goblet of wine from the table and turned back toward us. “But only the finest slap for me.”
    Naysmith’s right hand flexed, and I had no doubt his best shot would spin Leigh’s head around like a weathercock in a gale.
    I sought to distract the big man. “What company were you hoping to join, Naysmith?”
    “I answer to Nay—too many Smiths about.” Nay shrugged. “Home Guards, if I must. The Norrington Foot Guards is best. See more than Valsina.”
    “Not the Frontier Lancers, or the Oriosan Scouts?” Leigh regarded us with a broad smile on his face. “The Heavy Dragoons could use someone like you, though I doubt there’s a horse that would carry you.”
    “Some do, some don’t.” Nay tossed off the rest of his wine and started to wipe his mouth on his sleeve, but thought better of it. “Riders worry about sticking and stabbing. Been laboring for years with a hammer. Bashing and laying about with a maul is for me.”
    “Your strength will serve you well in war.” Leigh finished his wine and returned the goblet to the table. “How will you fare at a ball, though? The watchers have seen we can drink, so shall we thrill some of these