The Sword of Bheleu by Lawrence Watt-Evans Read Free Book Online Page B

of the Sword of Bheleu was red once more and flickering with a fitful, uneven glow. He felt a moment of horror as the familiar suffocating blur of anger and confusion closed on him; the horror faded with the death of the mental clarity sufficient to recall what he had lost.

Chapter Four
    Saram was the first to speak after the Forgotten King’s abrupt departure. “What was that all about?” he asked.
    â€œI don’t know,” Garth replied. His thoughts seemed muddy and vague and laced with a lingering annoyance.
    â€œWhat happens now?” Frima asked.
    The overman had been staring at the steps the old man had just ascended; at the sound of the girl’s voice he turned to face her.
    â€œIt would seem,” he said, “that you’re free now. As I told you, I have no use for you; I brought you here only because the old man told me to bring whatever I found on the altars, and you were on Sai’s altar. I thought that my taking him literally might convince him to be less cryptic in the future. It appears it hasn’t quite worked—but that’s not your concern. I delivered you to him, and he rejected you, so I have no further need for you. You’re free to do as you please.”
    â€œWill you take me back to Dûsarra, then?”
    â€œI hadn’t planned to.”
    â€œOh, but you have to! I can’t go back myself; it’s not safe, and I don’t know the way!”
    â€œDo you really want to go back? When we left, there was a plague loose in the city.”
    â€œOh.” She was immediately less enthusiastic. “That’s right, the White Death was in the marketplace, and the city was on fire. Maybe I don’t want to go back. What should I do, then?”
    â€œThat’s up to you.” Garth rose. “I have affairs of my own to attend to, and I want to get out of here before the Baron sends his soldiers after me—if he hasn’t done so already.”
    â€œYou can’t leave me all alone in a strange town!”
    Garth hesitated. “I can’t very well take you to a military camp, either. How would I explain a human’s presence? Besides, I can’t keep looking after you forever. At least here in Skelleth you’re among your own species.”
    Saram interjected, “I could look after her for a while, I suppose.”
    The overman was startled. “It is not necessary; she’s not your concern.”
    â€œI don’t mind.”
    Garth looked from Saram to Frima and back. Was he missing something here? Had the former guardsman taken some sort of interest in the girl? He had noticed them speaking to each other, though he had not heard what had been said.
    What sort of an interest could it be, though? He knew that he didn’t understand humans very well, but what sort of attachment could have been formed so quickly? No, more likely the man was just curious about the Dûsarran, or wanted to do Garth a favor, doubtless expecting the debt to be repaid later. There was nothing wrong with that; Garth already felt he owed Saram something, as the man had been of assistance in the past.
    â€œVery well, then. Perhaps you can find her some more suitable clothing; she’s been complaining about what I gave her, and I would like to have my tunic back.”
    â€œDon’t worry; I’ll take good care of her.” There was something odd about the man’s smile, Garth thought, but he dismissed it.
    The sword and other items were still strewn across the table; though he was eager to be on his way to straighten out the mess Kyrith and Galt seemed to have gotten themselves into, Garth paused to gather them up. It would not do to leave magical objects lying around where any casual tavern patron might pick them up. He knew from personal experience that the white stone and the sword were dangerous, and the black stone might be as well. The rest the King had dismissed as junk, but gold was gold, and not to