The Super Barbarians Read Online Free PDF Page A

voices raised in anger.
    I looked up, craning my neck, and saw a Vorrish noble come stamping down the stairs.
    Sheer reflex brought me to my feet when I recognized who it was. I had barely stood up when I was violently hauled back into my seat and my cloak was flung around my head suffocatingly.
    “What the hell do you think you’re playing at?” hissed Marijane’s voice from close to my ear. “You’re in the Acre. Hasn’t that dented your thick skull yet? When one of the perditious Vorra goes by, you
ignore
him, catch?”
    The heavy footsteps crashed across the hall and out of the door; I couldn’t see, but I heard perfectly because everything was done with the slam-bang lack of control stemming from pure rage.
    “All right, take him upstairs,” I heard someone say.
    When the cloak was dragged off my head again, I lookedabout me apologetically. “I didn’t mean to stand up,” I said. “I was just so shaken to see who it was.”
    “What do you mean?” Gustav demanded.
    “That was—uh—my employer. Pwill.”
    “Don’t hang around!” That was the hard-eyed man the guard had spoken to when I was brought in, leaning over the balustrade of the landing above the stairs. Ken and Gustav hustled me roughly forward.
    “His Honor Judge Olafsson,” Ken said to me out of the side of his mouth as I was escorted into the office. “He matters around here—not Pwill or anyone else.”
    Olafsson looked up from behind his rough wooden desk. He was a man of great height, even when sitting. I guessed him to be about sixty, but he wasn’t old. His face was firm and unlined, and his eyes were bright, the lids unwrinkled. He was going bald on top of his high forehead. When he spoke, he revealed a resonant baritone voice.
    “I gather this is a serf who’s come to the Acre for the first time—correct?’’
    “That’s right, your honor.” Ken and Gustav spoke together.
    “What’s your name?” Olafsson jabbed his index finger towards me.
    “Shaw,” I said. “Gareth Shaw—uh—your honor.”
    His expression didn’t change, but the tone of his voice did. ‘Whose service are you in?” he barked.
    “The House of Pwill,” I said, blinking.
    Olafsson’s frosty glare swept my companions. “Out!” he said. “And don’t mention this again, in the Acre or out of it. Understand?”
    Completely baffled, my escort stuttered objections. Olafsson cut them short.
    “Out!” he repeated crisply.
    When they had gone, leaving only myself, Olafsson, and the hard-eyed man who stood at Olafsson’s right and seemed like some kind of personal assistant, the judge indicated a chair. I sat down gratefully, because my flight from the mob, my fall over the barrel and my rough treatment at the hands of Ken and Gustav had left me aching all over.
    Tm sorry to have caused so much trouble, your honor,” I said. “I’ve never been to the Acre before, and I made the mistake—uh—of not taking off my house shield before—”
    “How long have you been on Qallavarra?” Olafsson didn’t appear to have heard what I just said.
    “Seven months, about,” I said, swallowing.
    Olafsson half-turned and cocked an eyebrow at the hard-eyed man. “What do you make of that, Sessions?” he said.
    The hard-eyed man shrugged fractionally.
    “Why is this the first time you’ve been to the Acre?” Olafsson went on, turning back to face me.
    I couldn’t think of an answer I wasn’t ashamed of. I said nothing.
    “Very well. Shaw. In service with Pwill. How did you manage to get this cushy post? I suppose it must be cushy, or we’d have seen you before.”
    I said, “I was—uh—back home I was tutor to Pwill Heir Apparent.”
    Sessions grunted. I didn’t like his expression at all.
    “I see. So yours is a pretty responsible post? A position of trust?” Olafsson folded his huge hands on his desk.
    “No, not very.” I was glad to seize the opportunity to explain. “You see, Pwill Heir Apparent was absolutely impossible to teach and