The Iron Lance Read Online Free PDF Page A

horses, and Murdo used the opportunity to loosen the cinch strap on the abbot’s saddle—not enough so that the churchman should fall, but enough to make the saddle sway uneasily from side to side.
    Back in the yard once more, the abbot accepted the reins from Murdo’s hand and, without so much as a word of thanks, swung himself onto his mount. “Pax vobiscum,” he intoned sourly.
    â€œPax vobiscum,” answered Ranulf, whereupon the abbot wheeled his horse and rode from the yard, followed by his three silent companions.
    After supper the Lord of Dýrness and his lady wife exchanged sharp words. Late into the night their voices could be heard beyond the thick walls of their chamber. The servingmen had vanished just after clearing the supper board, lest they come foul of their lord’s displeasure, and none were to be found anywhere. Murdo, sitting alone at the hearth, could not hear what they said, but the meaning was clear enough. Even the lord’s gray wolfhound remained curled in a corner of the hearth, jowls resting on his great paws.
    â€œWhat ails you, Jötun?” muttered Murdo, flicking a peat clod at the dog. “It’s me that has been forsaken.”
    Murdo did not go to his bed that night; he was discouraged enough already without listening to the smug chatter of his brothers and cousin. Instead, he stalked the hill behind the house cursing his luck and railing against his untimely birth. He demanded of the heavens to know why he had been born last, but neither the stars, nor the pale half moon deigned to answer. They never did.

TWO
    â€œYour horse has been saddled, basileus,” announced Nicetas. From his camp chair in the center of the tent, Alexius Comnenus, Emperor of All Christendom, God’s Co-Regent on Earth, Supreme Commander of the Imperial Army, rose and lifted his arms. Two young armor-bearers darted forward, one of them clutching the imperial sword, and the other the wide silver belt.
    Together the two buckled the sword and then backed silently away while old Gerontius, Magister of the Chamber, shuffled forward holding the emperor’s golden circlet on a small cushion of purple silk. Alexius lifted the circlet and placed it on his head, and then turned to his aging servant. “Are we ready, Gerontius?”
    â€œThe basileus is ready,” replied Gerontius with a bow.
    â€œCome then, Nicetas,” said the emperor, stepping quickly to the door. “We would not have the enemy believe we are cowering in our tent. We shall let them see us at the head of our troops, and they shall know Alexius fears nothing.”
    The two men emerged from the imperial tent, and the emperor stepped onto the mounting block where his favorite stallion waited. Alexius raised his foot to the stirrup and swung easily into the saddle; he took up the reins and, with Nicetas, Captain of the Excubitori, the palace guard, mounted beside him, made his way slowly through the camp to the chorusedshouts of acclaim from rank upon rank of soldiers.
    â€œListen to them, Nicetas. They are eager for the fight,” Alexius observed. “That is good. We will whet their appetite a little more, so that tomorrow they will feast without restraint.”
    â€œThe blood of the enemy will be a rich sacrifice for God and his Holy Church,” the captain of the guard replied. “Amen.”
    â€œAmen.”
    Upon reaching the edge of the camp, the two rode on, following a trail which led to a nearby hill where three men on horseback waited. “Hail and welcome, basileus!” called the foremost of them, riding forward to greet his sovereign with a kiss. The other two offered the imperial salute and waited to be addressed.
    â€œWhat have you to show us, Dalassenus?” the emperor asked. He rubbed his hands in anticipation, and regarded his kinsman fondly.
    â€œThis way, if you will, basileus,” replied Dalassenus, Grand Drungarius, Supreme Commander of the