The Complete Legends of the Riftwar Trilogy: Honoured Enemy, Murder in Lamut, Jimmy the Hand

‘Why? That gives you the advantage. Let’s do it in the woods instead.’

‘And give you the advantage?’ Asayaga replied with a laugh. ‘We agreed to an open challenge, blade on blade.’

‘I don’t quite remember it that way.’

‘Are you calling me a liar?’ Asayaga barked, and he stood up, reaching to his side, but his sword was back in the long house, with all the rest.

Dennis shook his head. ‘No, I am not calling you a liar, Asayaga.’ He motioned for the Tsurani to sit back down. ‘We have to settle how this will be fought.’

‘Our pledge is binding, it is to be a duel in the open.’

‘All right then,’ Dennis replied wearily, ‘let it be swords, in the open, witnessed by all our men.’

Asayaga, gave an angry grunt. He watched as Dennis effortlessly gutted the animal. ‘You’ve lived all your life in the woods, haven’t you?’ he asked at last.

Dennis nodded, saying nothing.

Asayaga leaned back, looking past him. It had been clear for over a week and there was even a hint of warmth in the afternoon air, sunlight sparkling though the trees, catching the snow still clinging to the branches so that it seemed as if the trees were garlanded with baskets of diamonds. ‘Where I lived the woods were dank jungle. I always hated them, they seemed so dangerous, foreboding. The sunlight never shone there, and deadly serpents and stalkers lurked within.’

‘Stalkers lurk here too,’ said Dennis.

‘Such as you.’

‘Yes.’

Asayaga nodded. ‘Yes, but it’s different. If there was no war, this would be a good place. Sheltered in winter, the fields look fertile, the game is rich. It could be a good life here.’

‘If there was no war …’ Dennis hesitated. ‘Yes, it could be.’

‘Was your home like this before the war?’

‘Don’t ask me about my home, Asayaga.’

‘Sorry. I did not mean to bring the return of unpleasant memories.’

There was silence for several minutes as Dennis finished his job, putting the heart and liver back inside the hollowed-out carcass, then washed his blade and hands with snow. ‘It was like this place,’ he said softly, almost as if speaking to himself. ‘Our valley had good land, by midsummer the grain stood waist-high and there was more than enough for all: even the poorest of my father’s tenants ate well, had a dry roof over his head, and a warm fire in the winter.’ He sat back, absently wiping his hands on his stained trousers. ‘The great forest was thick with game. My father – and when he still was able, my grandfather as well – we would go hunting together and when we returned there would be a feast and all in the keep joined us. The feasting would last for days, especially the great Midwinter festival like the one we celebrated two weeks ago. My grandfather had an old retainer named Jocomo who would dress up as Father Winter and come riding into the courtyard with a bag of sweets for the children.’ With a faint smile Dennis added, ‘He always said that the wolves who pulled his sleigh were ill, which is why he had to borrow one of grandfather’s horses and each year when I was a child I would believe him. Anyone who came to our door was given a place at our table and my grandfather would insist that before we of title ate, those who served or were visitors must eat first.’

‘Your people loved him, then?’

‘Who could not?’ Dennis said wistfully. ‘He always distrusted the high nobles in the great halls to the east, far away in Rillanon and Salador, where it was safe, saying that they had forgotten why we existed, that our duty was first and foremost to protect those in our charge, and not the other way around.’

Asayaga sat silent, saying nothing, and after a while Dennis went on.

‘Yes, he was loved. I remember when I was a boy, maybe eight summers old. I told a stable boy to polish the silver trim on my saddle and came out to find him asleep, the silver still unpolished and in my childlike rage I struck him.’ Dennis shook his head. ‘My grandfather saw this.’

‘And he beat you?’

‘No,’ and Dennis. ‘He said nothing, but the following morning, hours before dawn, he dragged me out of my bed, pushed me down the stairs and threw me into the stable and told me to muck it out.

‘How I cried bitter tears, with him standing there glaring at me, not saying a word. After I mucked out the stables, I fed all the horses, then had to walk them, then oil the harnesses, before I could eat breakfast. Then I had to groom every horse, help the blacksmith with shodding, then help to bring in the hay; and thus I worked the whole day, and every day like that for a week. I ate in the stables and collapsed into exhausted sleep in the stables. The humiliation was the hardest part to bear, for all in the keep knew, and all treated me no longer as if I was the grandson of the Baron, but was just a common stable boy.’ He smiled. ‘The boy I struck secretly helped me in spite of my grandfather’s orders for him to take the time off and go hunting and use my horse. Lars was his name and he became one of my closest friends after that.’

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.