The Destiny of the Sword by Dave Duncan Read Free Book Online Page A

see the end of it. The gods knew what they were doing and they knew why, even if mortals did not. And they could be cruel.
    Sometimes they could even appear to be ungrateful.
    A sudden ripple of change swept over the ship. Two of the women came chattering down from the poop and headed for the companionway in the fo’c’sle. The men abandoned their fishing at the same moment and went into the deckhouse, muttering about a game of dice. Apprentice Thana, tired of sutras, rose and stretched deUciously. Honakura sighed... If the Goddess sent him back at once, then in twenty years or less he would be after someone like Thana. Unless he came back as a woman, of course, in which case he would be looking for a Shonsu.
    Adept Nnanji twisted bis head round and shouted for his brother. Katanji pulled a face, left off bis storytelling, and came down to join the sutra session. Nnanji could continue indefinitely. Despite his youth, he was the most single,minded person Honakura had ever met and he certainly possessed the finest memory.
    That made him an incomparable learner. It had been entertaining to watch Shonsu struggle to make himself more of a swordsman—meaning in effect more like Nnanji, who was a swordsman born—while Nnanji strove to be more like his hero, Shonsu. There was no doubt which of the two had more thoroughly succeeded. Adept,and,soon,to,be,Master Nnanji was unrecognizable as the brash, wide,eyed juvenile who had trailed behind Shonsu that first day in the temple, after the death of Hardduju. Yet neither man could ever really succeed. They were as unlike as the lion and the eagle that made up the griffon on the seventh sword.
    One lion plus one eagle did not make two griffons.
    Then stillness inexplicably returned and motion ceased. The ship lay in its cocoon of golden haze, the silence broken only by a quiet drone of sutras.
     
    Thana had wandered to the aft end of the deck and was sitting on the steps to the poop. There seemed to be something missing about Apprentice Thana. Honakura needed a moment to work it out—she was not wearing the pearls that Nnanji had given her. He decided, then, that he had not seen them for some days.
    She was studying Shonsu and frowning, deep in thought.
    Mm?
    Of course Shonsu was worth studying from her point of view: huge, muscular—masculinity personified—and a swordsman of the seventh rank, a man of ultimate power among the People.
    Brota and Tomiyano were incomparable pursuers of gold, but in Thana that family trait was subtly changed. She saw farther. Thana knew that gold was only a means, and the end was power. For most people gold was the surest means to that end, but power was largely a male attribute in the World, and there was a faster road to it for nubile young maidens.
    Honakura rose and wandered across and joined her on the steps. She scowled.
    Even at his age, it was pleasant to sit next to a Thana.
    “When beautiful young ladies frown, they must have troubles,” he said. ‘Troubles are my business.”
    “Beggars have no business.”
    He stared up at her until she averted her eyes.
    “Pardon, holy one,” she muttered.
    They had all guessed that he was a priest, of course. His way of speaking would have told them that.
    “Not a holy one at the moment,” he said gently. “But I am on Her business. Now, what ails?”
    “Just puzzled,” she said. “Something Nnanji told me.”
    Honakura waited. He had a million times more patience than Apprentice Thana.
    “He quoted something Lord Shonsu had said,” she explained at last, “the first time he was in Tau. He talked of being reeve there. Well! A minnow town like that? This is after his mission is over, you understand? It just seemed odd. That’s all.”
    “It doesn’t seem odd to me, apprentice.”
    She glanced at him in surprise. “Why not? A Seventh? In a scruffy little hole like Tau?”
    Honakura shook his head. “Shonsu never asked to be a Seventh. He did not even want to be a swordsman. The gods