A Mankind Witch by Dave Freer Read Free Book Online

had made no effort to get to his feet again. "However, I hope I have stripped some from between his ears. In future, Ritter, try thinking before you speak."

    "He taught me that lesson the hard way, too," said Manfred with a guffaw. "Now," he said to the crowd as he handed the sitting knight his sword again. "Are you all going to watch us or do any of you care to try one of these . . ." he held up a rapier, " . . . willow wands."

    There was a long silence. Then one of the knights—the one who had been drilling the squires earlier, stepped forward. "I believe I would."

    He was a broad-faced fellow with a square chin and a somewhat crooked nose. Unlike most of the blond Ritters, his hair was an indeterminate brown. There was something about the set of his chin that said that this one was no loudmouth pushover. Von Mell had accompanied them from Lödöse. This was a knight of the local chapter house. Here was someone posted to a border chapter house—and he had been drilling squires—never a popular task. Von Mell had stood close to the proctor-general's confidence. This knight was from the opposite extreme. Erik regarded him carefully. He had potential.

    "Certainly, Ritter," Manfred said easily. "I'll give you a hand getting out of that breastplate, if you like. The quilted jacket will save you from getting more than a bruising."

    The knight shook his head. "Perhaps tomorrow I will try that. What I would like to see is more of that work with the point. I noted that you, Ritter, used the point a great deal. Is it really effective against armored men?"

    Erik nodded. "When used with precision, yes. But you must remember that by and large it is not our foes who are heavily armored, and that firearms—aye, and even crossbow quarrels—render armor an expensive, heavy ornament."

    There were faint gasps at what amounted to near sacrilege to the knights. But the broad-faced one acknowledged this with a serious nod. "But in mass combat there is little time or place for precision. And our foes here mostly use throwing axes, spears, and greatswords." He felt the balance of the rapier Manfred had handed him.

    Erik liked the lad more and more by the minute. He'd often wondered whether the physical effort of carrying all that steel robbed the brain of needed nourishment. The knights were long on honor, generally long on piety, and a little short on mental flexibility. "True. Although there is always a place for precision, even with a battle-axe. But the foes of the Church we are sworn to defend . . . will not always be the foes you stand against now. This new weapon hones and broadens the skills of a knight. Hold it thus. Posture is somewhat different, too. See."

    They worked at it until the vespers bell. And this knight showed no sign of exhaustion. He handed back the rapier. "Perhaps again tomorrow, Ritters," he said, hopefully. "Do you make a long stay here? Have you been stationed here?"

    So the run-of-the-mill knights of the local chapter house knew nothing of who they were—or why they had come. Well, even the proctor-general of Skåne didn't know all of it, although he might well guess, as he had chosen to accompany them. "We're on a sort of tour," said Manfred easily. The locals would suspect that they were no ordinary knights anyway, by the very fact that the proctor-general had ventured out into the cold.

     

CHAPTER 4

Kingshall, Telemark

    Cair was sweeping. Yard sweeping was normally a thrall's way of passing time "constructively" engaged so that he would not be sent to do something that required more energy. Cair regarded it as a necessary evil to be completed as quickly as possible. He'd found that, in his case, few people would come looking for him in his makeshift 'workshop' in the smelly shed behind the hide store. He had several other matters he wished to attend to, today. He had been gathering some old hooves and broken horn pieces, and he wanted to make some spirits of hartshorn. Hartshorn was