Terrible Swift Sword by William R. Forstchen Read Free Book Online

south, was shipwrecked on the eastern coast, and there taken by the Merki as they rode out from Cartha. Now, twenty-one years later, I am back."
    He sighed, as if realizing the folly of dreams.
    "You know that we have no one who has ridden with the Merki for a full circling," Andrew said, carefully watching Yuri's reactions, "no one who has seen them as you have."
    "They usually kill their pets at three moments," Yuri replied, his voice distant. "All but the most cherished are destroyed when the sacred mountains of Barkth Nom are first sighted. Next, if there is the death of a Qar Qarth."
    "And all but the most trusted when one's home land is again near," Andrew interjected.
    Yuri nodded.
    "Only the most trusted."
    "Were you trusted?"
    "I served Tamuka, shield-bearer to Zan Qarth Vuka, heir to Qar Qarth Jubadi va Ulga of the Merki Hordes," Yuri announced, and there was a note of pride in his voice. "I fashioned for him the gorget of gold that even now he wears, and the bindings of the sacred writings of names. I taught Tamuka, Shield-Bearer of the White Clan, the language of the Rus.
    "Yes, I was trusted. I was shown with pride as speaker of a dozen tongues, master of the fashioning of precious gold; I was allowed to wear the gold collar of the pet of the shield-bearer," and he absently touched his neck, ringed by a faint line of calluses.
    "There are some who say that you were sent here to mislead us, to spy, to learn what would be needed it this land was to be taken."
    "I came with word of the meeting of the three Qar Qarths."
    "We would have found out soon enough without your help."
    Yuri laughed softly.
    "Then kill me," he whispered. "I have seen my home again, though all turn their faces from me. My wife dead, my sons grown to manhood only to die in your wars."
    He paused for a moment, looking straight at Andrew. He looked down at a gold ring on his finger and absently ran his thumb over it, then looked hack up at Andrew with cold eyes.
    How many parents look at me thus? Andrew suddenly wondered. Yuri's eyes cut into him, and he felt an uneasiness. This one had a power to him, a coolness and self-assurance that he could not quite grasp. How could one who had lived on the edge of the pits, had seen the horrors and lived thus as a slave, be so inwardly calm?
    "I offer all I know, Andrew Lawrence Keane of Yankee Maine. If I betrayed my people the day I look their flesh, it is easy to betray those who made me thus."
    The two were silent, the clock ticking, its voice again loud, filling the void.
    Yuri looked over at it.
    "The voice of time," he said with a chuckle. "A curious machine. You know, you don't have much time left, and when they come it will be like a storm out of hell."
    Andrew nodded, still uncommitted.
    "Believe me, Jubadi has spent countless hours learning of you. He has the traitor Hinsen, and those few Yankee sailors of the great ship who are still prisoners and have traded their honor for their lives. Jubadi spends much time creeping into your mind, you have no means of learning his."
    Andrew looked up at the mention of Hinsen's name. It carried now as much dark meaning as the name Benedict Arnold, a name to be spit out with disgust. He was the only one who could have told them how to make hydrogen for their machines, and much more.
    "Did you see Hinsen?"
    Yuri nodded.
    "Many times. Groveling before Jubadi, promising much, telling him all of your means of fighting, the formations used, the way you think, the way you lead."
    "And the others?"
    "Most of the Yankee sailors, the Suzdalian sailors, are dead, some refused to help, others tried to run. But there are still a handful who remain. There are the other sailors, the ones who spoke your language and were from the southern sea. They took one of your steam land machines back to Cartha, but when word came of your victory they slipped away."
    He chuckled softly.
    "They stole one of the iron ships that Cromwell was making but was not ready for the war. Several