The Prize in the Game Read Online Free PDF

heart, the bow given to a mighty warrior, not the bow given to a king.
    Conary laughed and looked distinctly pleased. "If you have to fight against them, use spears,"
    he advised.
    "Spears have the reach. Get the horse fast, and then they will be down on your level.
    Best of all, use a belly-spear." He reached out without looking and drew forward a spear with a wicked barbed head. "It twists on the way in and can't be drawn out straight, so it's almost sure to kill. I keep those for fighting against cavalry. Horse-warriors are a nuisance, but the good thing is that there are not very many of them. They cannot be everywhere at once, else raiding Demedia would be a foolish pastime indeed."
    Emer laughed, knowing that Oriel raided Demedia every summer they were not at war elsewhere.
    "You must be armed today," King Conary said, sounding much happier about it than he had earlier. He touched her elbow and then her wrist, then held his hands apart at that distance. "I know," he said and looked about him. Then he frowned. "Conal!"
    Conal was on the other side of the room with his father, looking desperately unhappy. He was wearing an armor coat, leather set with iron rings, and holding a spear. He and Amagien both looked up at Conary's call.
    As Conal looked up he smiled easily. Emer was surprised how at quickly he could do that.
    Inis, who was standing by the door turning a knife in his hands, also glanced over, then away.
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    "Conal, where are those Jarnish swords I said you could use for practice?"
    "If you have lost the king's swordsmdash" Amagien began.
    "Oh no, they are not lost," Conal said, with a smile like ice over deep water. "They are here with the sling I
    use." He took a few paces among the weapons, dodging Leary who was pulling on his armor coat, clearly entirely at home in the room, and took up a pair of long knives and handed them to Conary.
    "They are mine, and should not be kept with your father's weapons," Conary said, frowning.
    "Useless boy!" Amagien said. "Can't you do anything right?"
    "I am very sorry, sir," Conal said, looking at Conary.
    "Humph. They're not harmed by it. Have you outgrown them yet?"
    "The smaller, yes, but I am still using the longer." He turned to Emer. "I use them for practice. Using a weapon with an edge is different from using a wooden one, even when the weight is the same."
    King Conary measured Conal's arm the same way he had measured Emer's, and frowned.
    "This will be the summer he will grow," Amagien said grimly, as if he would personally make sure of it.
    "He is smaller than Darag but taller than Leary. He is not small for his age," Emer said, surprising herself.
    Conal gave her a swift frown and shook his head a little. Amagien looked furious.
    Conary laughed. "Does your charioteer defend you already?" he asked. "Well, so it should be.
    Emer ap Allel, take this sword. It is a Jarnish weapon. These were won in a sea-fight, years ago.
    When you grow taller and wish to change it, bring it back to me. Conal, you keep the other until you too, need a longer sword."
    Emer took the smaller of the pair and turned it over curiously. It was not quite like a sword sized for a sixteen-year-old. The shape was unusual, but the balance was good. Conary handed the other to Conal just as Nid's mother came up with an armor coat for Emer. She shrugged it on over her clothes. There would be time at the stables to take off her overdress. She belted up her shift and fixed the sword to her belt. Beside her, Conal was doing the same.
    "And a spear," Conary said. He touched Emer's head briefly and made for the wall where many spears were standing propped. He took up one without hesitation arid strode back to her with it. She hefted it for a moment. It was just the right length. She was glad to see he had chosen an ordinary throwing spear, not a barbed belly-spear.
    Conary went over to Leary then and after exchanging a few words found him a blade.
    "If we are done here, then to the stables," Conary