The Doomfarers of Coramonde Read Online Free PDF Page B

biting memory of his earlier failure of
Hightower tore at him, but immediate danger preempted any bold or defiant words
and his survival instinct prodded him to dissemble and say anything, anything
to live.
    Eliatim cut him
short, words curdling with contempt. “You know better than that, boy. We can’t
afford to have you wander off, even if you mean what you say; it wouldn’t be
long before you were located and exploited by some troublemaker or other. One
of the Southern Warlords, or that heretic deCourteney, possibly? Now, look how
easy it was for me, Your Grace. When I returned and found you gone, I had
little problem surmising what had happened. Is it of any interest to you that
the stableboy is dead? I thought so. I had to interrogate him in some haste.
And we’ll hoist that damned slacker Brodur, too, when we find him.
    “You must have
taken a roundabout way to the Brass Lion Gate, but I had the guards pass me
through and I knew that we would meet here one last time.”
    Later,
Springbuck promised himself, he would think about poor Micko, how they’d played
and joked together, later remember how Micko could sleep between the legs of
the most spirited horse in its stall, since he was that close to animals, and
how he could never lie well, it being foreign to him to twist things or dress
his words up. The Prince must grieve later because now he was poised for the
one chance he might get to elude death.
    The appalling
idea struck him that Eliatim was reading his every thought and intention when
the other said, “Come down off your high horse, and I will explain some facts
which, I confess, have been kept from you.”
    Springbuck
groped in vain for some reply that would permit him to stay mounted, but
complied.
    The
master-of-arms’ eyes were glazed with strong drink or drug. While his tone was
almost amiable, the arrow leveled at the Prince’s heart was not. Springbuck
stood near the roncin and watched the bowstring as if hypnotized, but Eliatim
showed no doubt about his weapon’s effectiveness. The older man’s body was
limber and relaxed, hand steady, and the string seemed taut.
    As Springbuck
shuffled his booted feet on the hard, tractive surface of the Western Tangent,
Eliatim smiled through his stiffly waxed mustache and suddenly lowered the bow,
easing tension on the string. “How is it,” he asked huskily, “that you never
sensed how I anticipated this moment? Long and long I’ve waited to put you to
death, and send my star into the ascendant.”
    At this the
Prince’s stomach knotted with fear and the fist with which he held his reins
balled even more tightly. His fleeting impulse to leap back onto his horse was
cut short at Eliatim’s next statement.
    “If you try to
run I can cut you down before you have both feet in the stirrups. But I do
thank you for saving me a long and tiring chase on horseback, for I fear that
my bow cord became rather wet as I waited for you. I’m grateful that you follow
instructions so well and that you quailed at the sight of my arrow. Now, you
see, we can test whether the years I’ve spent teaching you the policies of combat
were wasted. Let us now weigh your prowess with the sword.”
    So saying, he
hurled the bow and arrow aside and took from its scabbard his long, heavy
cavalry rapier. Springbuck tried to moisten his lips with a dry tongue. A vault
to the saddle was out of the question. He let fall his reins and took his cloak
from his shoulders and draped it over his horse’s croup. He reluctantly
unsheathed Bar, whose grip did not feel slick despite the rain and his clammy
palm. Eliatim’s eyes narrowed at Bar’s bright aspect.
    “That hanger is
unknown to me,” he said. “From whence does it come? Ah, let it pass. I shall
have a chance to inspect it at my leisure, presently.”
    He grinned
wickedly. “And while I think to tell you, your ill treatment of the Lady
Duskwind was unwarranted. She was no part of our alliance against you. How you
found out that