The Sunset Warrior - 01 by Eric Van Lustbader Read Free Book Online Page A

circumstances, I should think the Saardin would understand.’
    ‘You are defending him?’
    Careful. ‘He is quite harmless, Saardin. He is, after all, a Scholar.’
    The papers rustled. ‘One cannot be too careful,’ the Saardin said pedantically, ‘when it comes to Tradition. Such a disturbance at Sehna is cause for an investigation, I am sure you understand that. Order must be maintained at all costs—at any cost. Sehna is the time of obeisance to the Saardin and thus to the Freehold itself. Without the Freehold’s structure, we are nothing. Without Tradition, discipline, order, we become barbarians. You understand this clearly, sir?’ The hands separated, spread themselves upon the desktop, an implicit threat. ‘I am aware that you are without affiliation. Is that one of the principles you were taught Upshaft?’ The eye winked out for a moment, shone again. ‘One wonders, sir, what the Salamander would think of one of his pupils—pardon me—ex-pupils who was involved in a disturbance at Sehna.’ His tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth.
    His head turned then, just enough so that Ronin could see that he was smiling. ‘I am most apologetic at having to disturb you so early, but’—he shrugged—‘the routines of Security must be maintained.’ The white eye winked out as he looked down again. He moved papers off to the side, seemed to be studying something.
    ‘You forgot your sword,’ he said.
    Ronin almost said something then, but understanding came just in time. He stood very still and stared at the shiny cap of the Saardin’s hair. Far off a door slammed, and nearer, booted feet tramped down a hallway, setting a cadence.
    ‘There’s a good boy,’ said the Saardin. And Ronin knew he was angry, felt some small satisfaction. The sounds of the boots faded, and the silence came again. His shoulder ached.
    ‘That is your own business.’ The Saardin’s head came up, flash of white light. ‘Other things are my business.’ His voice took on a pedantic tone again. ‘Do you know why Security was created, sir? For two reasons. One: to protect the Freehold from invasion from the Outside. Two: to protect the Freehold from those within who would seek to destroy it.’ His hands steepled before him, fingers interlaced like white blades. ‘Now we are the last. The earth above us is frozen solid and no one can survive there. All other Freeholds perished long ago. Perished because they forsook the Traditions. Perished because they lacked our discipline, sir.
    ‘And so we are the last. And by the Chill, I shall ensure that we remain and flourish.’ The hands came apart. ‘While there is no one from Above who can harm us, there are still members of the Freehold, hiding among us, who wish us ill.’ The hands came down hard on the desktop. ‘That I will not tolerate! Do you understand me, sir?’ Ronin nodded. ‘Good. Very good.’
    He turned suddenly in his chair and pointed behind him at a wall hanging. ‘You see this? A fine piece of work. Excellent. Better than anything we can do. How old do you estimate it is? Hmm? Two hundred years, three? A millennium. At least. What do you think of that? And we do not have the faintest idea who made it. What kind of people, even. Could have been our forefathers. Perhaps not. No records. Very mysterious, yes?’ He turned back. ‘There are many mysteries within the Freehold. Most people do not know about them. No time. Would not care about them, if they did. Then there are those few people who cannot resist poking around things they have no business being near. They get hurt that way.’
    A small silence built itself in the room and the air seemed to get thick and difficult to breathe. ‘I trust you have good sense.’
    The white eye went out once more as Freidal returned to his papers. The scratching of the quill had ceased. After a time, the Saardin said, without looking up, ‘Sir, I believe you are late for Combat practice.’
    Extend the leg twist