The Secular Wizard - Wis in Rhyme - 4 Read Online Free PDF Page A

and came charging after.
    They careened into the monstrosity before it could take two steps. it screamed and lashed out at them with steel-sha@ claws; its rider bellowed rage in a voice that shook the village, and swung his sword.
    Sir Sticchi shouted in pain as the blade cut through his armor and
    into his shoulder, but he struck anyway, his sword thrusting into the monster's chest. It screamed in agony and anger, blasting him with breath that blackened and pitted his helmet. His horse screamed in fright, but the knight held it in place, hewing and hacking and madly singing a battle hymn. Sir Tchalico joined in, striking from the other side, and beast and rider alike howled in pain and rage. Sword and tooth and talon struck, and struck again. Sir Sticchi fell, blood found-taming from a torn throat; his horse screamed and ran. Sir Tchalico howled in agony as flame enveloped him; then he fell, and the monster stamped down, through his armor, through his chest, and the horse neighed in terror and wheeled to run. But the twisting sword cut it down, and the monster stepped over the bodies, reaching out for the king.
    "Ego te absolvo!" the priest cried an instant before a huge battle-axe flashed before his face, and the king fell headless to the ground. A second later, the priest's head rolled beside it in the dust. The monster screamed in terrible pain, and its rider howled in frustration-for the king was dead, as was the priest who had shriven him, but three souls had gone to Heaven, and one to Purgatory in-stead of Hell. Satan was cheated, and his minion suffered far more than the victims had. Fire exploded around them, and monster and rider were gone-but the peasants did not come out to bury the hod-ies until the smell of brimstone had faded away.
    "So good to see you again, Lord Chancellor!" Garchi raised a hand to pound the chancellor on the back, then remembered and withdrew the slap. "Your lad does well, very well indeed."
    "You have followed my instructions, then?"
    "We have-but alas, it did no good," Garchi said with a sigh.
    "Oh, the lad can wench and swill with the best of them-but he doesn't. Not all that often, at least. He'll only bed one wench a night, and not even every night, at that. I've never heard one of them complain of his treatment, though."
    Rebozo thought that he might be more reassured if the women had complained-but he had enough tact not to say so. "I regret to hear it; a boy his age ought to enjoy the leisure to play while he can. Should have, I should say-I fear that time is at an end."
    "Oh?" Garchi looked up, alert, but neither sad nor glad.
    "You're taking him from us, then?"
    "I fear so-he must begin his work in this world. Send him to me, Lord Garchi."

"When he's done with ... the matter at hand, of course."
    "Of course."
    Garchi didn't mention that the task at hand was a book in Latin, about the lives of the old emperors. He wasn't sure Rebozo would be happy about it.
    Consequently, Rebozo was rather surprised when the servant announced Sir Boncorro only fifteen minutes later. Rebozo did not have to rise, since he was still pacing. The prince came in right behind. "Your pardon for not dressing more elaborately, Lord Chancellor, but I did not wish to keep you waiting ... What means this?"
    The chancellor had sunk to one knee, bowing his head. "Long live the king!"
    For a minute Boncorro stood frozen, as the meaning of the salutation sank in and he adjusted his mind to it. He seemed to stand a lit-tie taller, even straighter than he had. "So it has happened. The Devil has tired of my grandfather, has withdrawn the sorcery that kept him alive, and the king is dead."
    "Long live the king," Rebozo returned.
    Boncorro stood still a moment longer, to let the shock and numbness pass-and then came the first fierce elation of triumph. Grand-father was dead, and Boncorro was still alive!
    Then he stepped forward to clasp Rebozo by the shoulders and lift him to his feet. "You must not kneel to me, old