Swords: 09 - The Sixth Book Of Lost Swords - Mindsword's Story by Fred Saberhagen Read Free Book Online Page A

worship in the men’s voices, someone just arriving on the scene might have thought that they were mocking the silent man in their midst. But he, who had experience of the Swords, knew better.
           It was Carlo, his adoring son, who shouted out his title—Crown Prince of Culm—and then with huge pride claimed the Crown Prince as his father.
           A disproportionately loud cheer arose from the small group.
           “See?” one of the thieves demanded triumphantly of his fellows. “I knew it all along! Real nobility!”
           “The greatest!”
           With a quick, reluctant salute Murat acknowledged the newest round of cheers. He felt weary. He needed time to think. “Very well, you may come with me, for the time being.”
           Renewed cheering answered him. The Crown Prince was thinking that this was certainly the quickest way out of the situation, and such an escort ought at least to discourage other bandits from attacking. The presence of this gang would reduce his chances of having to go through this all over again.
           While he thought of it, he sternly ordered his recruits to protect, obey, and honor his son as well.
           “He shall be second only to yourself, sir.”
           “And,” Murat reiterated, “there must be no more robbery and murder. Not while you serve me.”
           Still the men raised no objection, though now several of them looked thoughtful. Murat could imagine their concern: if robbery was now forbidden them, what were they to do from now on, how were they to survive?
           One man cried out—it was not an objection but a plea for help—that they faced an immediate food shortage.
           Murat and Carlo exchanged looks. Together, their two packs did not contain enough surplus food to provide more than one meal for so many.
           “Enough!” Murat shouted into a fresh murmuring, and once more obtained instant silence.
           “I have changed my mind,” he said. “I order you to go on about your business. Depart from my son and me. Obtain food as best you can, but kill no one for it.” It seemed to him a reasonable compromise, under the circumstances.
           He ought to have known better, but the reaction caught him completely by surprise. Stricken faces turned toward him. One howled to know why they were being so hideously punished. One or two others swore that they must kill themselves if their sublime master disowned them in this way.
           Others, Gauranga among them, objected more rationally: “Go about our business? But Lord, you have forbidden us our business!”
           Murat looked at Carlo. Carlo looked back at him, waiting in happy expectancy, ready to be delighted with whatever his glorious Father should decide.
           The Crown Prince closed his eyes for a moment, feeling a great weariness. In time, he repeated to himself, people tended to recover from what the Mindsword did to them. At least they recovered if they wanted to recover, if they were not exposed to the Sword’s continued influence, if other pressures were in place to have some contrary effect on them.
           He had no intention of ever drawing this particular damned Blade again. That being the case, he relented.
           “Very well, those of you who want to follow me may do so, for the time being. But sooner or later you must all go your own ways. I do not need your services.”
           Gauranga and his men looked sad on hearing this. Sad but determined, Murat decided. Some of them at least were certain to try to prove their worth as followers. And at least an immediate mass excommunication had been avoided.
     
     

 
    Chapter Four
     
           Murat and his son, attended by their new retinue of ragged but faithful followers, continued their cross-country progress at a somewhat slower pace. As the hours passed, and time came to stop for the night,