The Sword Bearer by John White Read Free Book Online

a moment nothing happened. Then his legs doubled from a hard blow to the backs of his knees. A heavy mass struck his chest and with a startled yell he crashed backward to the ground, the breath knocked out of him by his fall and by the ponderous weight on top of him. Hands seized his arms and legs, and course ropes bound them painfully together. He could hear the heavy breathing of more than one assailant and struggled fiercely at the feel of the ropes. But his struggles were useless. With surprising efficiency his captors quickly trussed him into helpless inactivity.
    "Light the lamp!" a gruff voice ordered. There was the sharp sound of a flint being struck Then a second or two later the soft yellow light of an oil lantern lit the long beards and the rugged faces of two Matmon. They stared at him from above, John on his back, and the Matmon standing beside him, one of them holding the lamp high.
    Bildreth knelt beside John, fumbling with John's belt and pulling belt, scabbard and sword from him. John's lips were pressed tightly together. He was both frightened and enraged. He never knew what made him say it, but suddenly the words came with surprising firmness and clarity, "The Sword Bearer and his sword cannot be separated for long. And those who try to separate them meet an ugly fate!"
    Bildreth struck him sharply across the mouth, glaring hatred. Strange as it may seem, the blow drove John's fear away. Though he was bound and helpless, he felt a burning rage. He licked his lips, tasting blood that had already begun to trickle from the side of his mouth. Again he found himself talking, wondering where the impressive words came from. "He who strikes the Sword Bearer will encounter the wrath of the Changer."
    Bildreth's arm shot skyward to strike him again, but before the blow could descend, the lantern bearer seized his wrist. "He is bound, Bildreth. And he is the Sword Bearer. Beware lest wrath overtake us. It is enough that we have bound him and taken his sword. Those were our orders. Beware that we meddle not with the great powers. The Lord Lunacy wishes only to speak with him."
    Bildreth snatched his wrist from his companion. But he made no further attempt to strike John. Placing his fingers in his mouth, he whistled piercingly. "Folly!" he cried, "come hither!"
    John stared at his captors. He could not remember seeing either of them in his dreams. The lamplight shone on their yellow leather jerkins and their bottle-green stockings. Their hair and beards were dark Bildreth was lean and his mouth, twisted and cruel. The lantern bearer was heavy, his stomach ballooning ahead of him. It was the lantern bearer's weight that had pinned John to the ground.
    The sound of trotting hooves drew nearer and suddenly a donkey's gray muzzle loomed over John's head. The donkey eyed him with a mournful expression. "I must not presume to question the judgment of the Lord Gutreth," it said in deep and fruity tones, turning to the Matmon with the lantern, "but discretion—ah, I mean—ah—mistakes, as it were—if you take my meaning. No offense?"
    "You do what we say and you ask no questions, King Folly," said Gutreth the lantern bearer with a smile. "Pick him up, Bildreth, and place him gently on Folly's back."
    With surprising ease Bildreth lifted him, dumping him face downward across the donkey's back His face pressed on the buckle of one of the donkey's saddlebags. He felt both uncomfortable and desperately unsafe. It was hard to breathe and he had the sensation that he would slide to the ground any minute. It was frightening to have no hands with which to hold on.
    The donkey repeated endlessly, "Quite so. Quite so. We must respect authority. I know that it is foolish of me even to mention the matter. But we must not put our heads into a noose, must we? Yes, yes, I know. Who am I to make suggestions? Ah, well. Such is life. Young heads on old shoulders. A stitch in time. It's an ill wind, etc., etc., etc."
    At any other time John