Bloodstone (4 page)

"Haltingly," Lord Dribeck acknowledged. "I've taken instruction in the six great languages. I'm grateful, Kane--this is an unanticipated treasure! Laharbyn I know chiefly through Ak-Commen's plagarized On Rule. This will make a useful addition to my library."

Aware that he was in the midst of the games, Dribeck collected himself and instructed Asbraln to see that the book was placed in his chambers. His guests would not look favorably upon any show of dilettantism in this setting. Signing for Kane to accompany him, he resumed his jostled circuit along the field, his thoughts on the stranger. This was an odd gift to come from a man of Kane's profession. Possibly Kane was merely an individual of rare discernment and taste--not all wandering mercenaries were unlettered barbarians. But in view of his own political position in Selonari, Dribeck considered Kane's gift of the classic treatise on Realpolitik to imply broader meaning. The afternoon. was proving more interesting than he had imagined.

"You intrigue me, Kane," Dribeck admitted. In step beside him the stranger nodded with a bland smile. "You've obviously taken some pains to achieve this meeting, and I wonder why. Any of my officers would have paid well for your sword, though I doubt your ambitions are that straightforward. Asbraln tells me you hinted of some means to strengthen my army..."

"Your astuteness has not been exaggerated," Kane remarked. He spoke the aboriginal language of the Southern Lands without a trace of accent, although the precise, almost pedantic, phrasing suggested it was not his native speech. "May I reflect your interest by stating that Selonari and its ruler intrigue me. As you've observed, I live by my sword--and by my wits. At present, I'm on my own and close to having exhausted the gains of my last venture, although in the past I've fought under the banners of the greatest lords--and under my own a time or two, as well.

"I set a high price on my services, a value judged from many years and many campaigns--experience that wins battles in the field and in the palace. It's a game that I love, and I choose carefully to whom I offer my sword. In brief, I seek out those battles where the adventure races to overshadow the rewards. Adventure to ease my boredom, reward to soothe my ambition... to the lord who can satisfy these motivations, I pledge my sword and the wisdom of countless battles that tempers its edge. And I feel certain that I converse with such a lord.

"It's well known in the circles I travel that Lord Dribeck of Selonari desires to add fighting men to his army, ostensibly to guard against invasion across the northern frontier by Breimen. A reasonable enough motive, since Lord Malchion of Breimen also is paying well for mercenary swords, and it's no secret that the men of Wollendan desire to extend their power all across the Southern Lands and into the Cold Forests. Then again, men say, that Selonari must first conquer Selonari, before you can look toward Breimen. Selonari's ruler is young--he ascended his brother's throne before he reached maturity. And under the regency that followed his brother's untimely death, the shaky foundations of central power in the city-state crumbled yet further. Selonari's nobility are strong, and the Temple of Shenan longs to reassert itself as the center of authority. Or so men speculate in taverns and barracks all across the Southern Lands.

"All in all, men say Lord Dribeck's position is desperate, if not untenable--particularly since rumor hints he means to establish himself as absolute power in Selonari, despite the contrary wishes of certain powerful houses and of the Temple of Shenan."

"If you consider my position untenable, why have you come here?" queried Dribeck, with a note of anger.

"But I don't," Kane rushed to reply. "I only repeat rumors as they must have been reported, to you. I admire a man who would rule by his wits more than by his soldiers. And I like the odds. There's no adventure in fighting for a lord whose victory is all but assured beforehand--and no profit. The lord whose hold on power is precarious... he pays well for the strength he needs to swing the balance to his favor. And will you dispute this logic which led me to Selonari?"

"I won't deny the truth of much you've observed," said Dribeck, after he had walked awhile in thought. "But it seems you set a very high value on your services, Kane. Your name is unknown to me; you come without credentials other than a bold front and a polished tongue. And I'm still in the dark both as to what you propose to accomplish and what its cost will be."

Kane's reply was interrupted as Dribeck halted to watch the archers. The match was nearing conclusion. The targets--life-sized human outlines painted on planks--were moved back to well over a hundred yards' distance, and only a few of the many challengers remained in the contest. Scoring was based on a traditional set of values assigned various anatomical areas, higher points designated to the more vital regions, highest being the heart and eyes. There being no entrance restrictions, a great number of archers had begun the match--most participating only for sport and small bets with one another. But after eliminations progressed, only the most skilled marksmen remained to compete for the generous purse, and betting paced the mounting excitement.

"Are you an archer, Kane?" Dribeck asked suddenly. "I can hold my own," he answered, offhand.

"That's my cousin Crempra there--third from the left, in brown with the high boots." Dribeck pointed toward a slender youth with no apparent familial resemblance. Crempra, who could not be as young as he looked, was stepping away from the mark in disgust. "Cousin just cost me some money with that last arrow. I was playing a long shot that he'd finish in the top five--should have tried for top ten, but Crempra told me he felt lucky. Out of his league, anyway, but the odds were nice. Look, can you handle his bow any better, Kane?"

Kane spoke cautiously, wondering where this was leading. "With a bow that I'm accustomed to, I could stand up against this field. With an unfamiliar one..."

"Crempra's is an excellent weapon," Dribeck pronounced, and waved for his cousin to join them. "You can have some free arrows to get the feel of it. You're unknown here, and there's a fine chance to set up side bets... unless you aren't sure you can--"

"Hell, what's the bet?" Kane inquired, recognizing that backing down was not among the choices.

"That you can match the score of the five finalists--that's on a set of ten arrows at full range. Can't run through the whole series, but against the last set we can find a lot of takers who'll give us odds. Are you game?"

"Why not?" assented Kane as Crempra joined them. While Dribeck explained things to his cousin, Kane examined his bow. It was a fine instrument, he judged, a heavy weapon of moderate length after the style favored across the Southern Lands. Here in the forests its power suited it to hunting or battle, although the bow would be too cumbersome for cavalry use.

Crempra was openly dubious but nonchalant. At Dribeck's urging he and Asbraln mingled with the throng taking bets, while the former gave orders concerning the arrangements. Dribeck seemed enthusiastic--he risked relatively little gold in the wager. If Kane won, the prestige would be Dribeck's as his backer. Should he lose, Kane would be at a disadvantage in striking a bargain with Dribeck.

Satisfied with preparations, Dribeck settled back to watch events unfold, angular jaw raised confidently, beer mug loosely held at waist level. The archery match was at last reaching an end, the final two marksmen loosing their last shafts. A wave of cheers signaled the winner--a Wollendann captain in Ovstal's service--but already word of Dribeck's wager was drawing attention to the new diversion. Various of his acquaintances sauntered away from the crowd that milled about the winners to question Dribeck regarding the stranger.

Judges quickly computed the minimum score needed to fulfill the wager; the match had been well contested, and the top five scores were high. Interest concentrated on Dribeck's proposal as the crowd waited for the other matches to begin.

It was going well. More reckless than he customarily allowed himself to be, Lord Dribeck became caught up in the general spirit. With mysterious allusions, he evaded questions concerning Kane and somehow created the simultaneous impression that the wager was both a sudden whim and a calculated ploy. It was not a day for sober deliberation. Dribeck was a consummate gambler, this had long been known. Betting grew spirited.

A disregarded thought told him that more money was riding on Kane's untested ability than he had intended, that he had somehow implied far more knowledge of the stranger than he had any claim to. This awareness was now beside the point. Still, a shadow of unease whispered to Dribeck as he watched Kane's trial shots. The stranger had removed his sword to give full freedom to his movements. His stance was firm; Crempra's bow bent easily enough under the pull of his brawny shoulders. But his arrows were widely spaced, striking the target haphazardly, half flying wide or falling short.

Dribeck optimistically told himself that Kane was settling on a point of aim, familiarizing himself with the bow. Then the judges announced that the series would begin, and Kane chose ten arrows. Bets hastily concluded as the men concentrated on the archer and his distant target.

Kane's first arrow struck the center of the silhouette's chest. The next two feathered the heart. A fourth protruded from the throat. Two more shafts bit into each eye. Another squarely between. Then again to the heart. Before the tenth arrow was released, the only dispute that remained was whether the arrow to the crotch had been intentional or not. Kane's tally was almost twice that of the high score for the set.

A raucous outburst followed his last arrow. Outrageous handfuls of coins glittered and jingled from reluctant purse to eager hand. Awestricken applause mingled with clamors of protest, while older spectators argued over legendary contests that reputedly had attracted archers of greater skill.

"This really is a fine bow," Kane remarked, returning it to Crempra. "Should you decide to sell it, I'd be interested in talking with you." Crempra accepted the weapon with a bitter smile; he had bet against Kane.

"Brilliant marksmanship!" Dribeck congratulated, watching from the corner of his eye as Asbraln swept together a mounting heap of coins. "I was wondering how this might end after seeing your warm-up."

"No point in scaring off bets," Kane explained, which was not entirely true.

The uproar gradually dissipated as the games progressed to new events. Targets were rearranged for spear and knife competitions; elsewhere preparations began for bare-handed combat. Other fights took place which had not been planned, but none of them reached the stage of serious injury. It was a splendid afternoon, and Dribeck felt unaccustomed exhilaration as he downed another mug of beer. He was going to be drunk on his ass by nightfall, but he would not be alone, and it was a glorious afternoon.

"Well, Kane, if you have other talents that sparkle like your aim, I'll pay well to enlist them," Dribeck exclaimed between toasts. "Just what do you have in mind? Obviously a position of leadership. Granted. Shall I give you command over a company? Readily done--new mercenary troops are coming into Selonari every day, and I need experienced officers. There'll be a good chance to move to higher rank if you prove to be up to your own recommendation. I look for ability in my staff, and you'll find me as quick to recognize it as to reward it."

"Your offer is generous enough," Kane said smoothly, his manner implying his acceptance would be a personal favor. "But as I have hinted, I hope to discuss something more than military commissions--matters of far greater portent to your rule."

"Oh?" Dribeck had recognized that Kane's interest was more complex than simple pursuit of office. "Back to the mystery plan to make my army irresistible in battle? I had assumed you were grandstanding with Asbraln."

"This doesn't need to reach the public ear." Kane gestured toward the entourage.

Dribeck had already discarded the idea that Kane might be an assassin. He signed to his guard, who drew back. Withdrawing somewhat from the elbowing crowd, he propped himself against an overturned beer keg and looked inquiringly at the stranger.

"I'm a man of considerable learning," Kane began.

"So you've taken great pains to impress upon me."

"It was my intention to establish the validity of what I'll propose to you," Kane explained with a slight frown. "You're intelligent... a scholar of note. I'd only be wasting my, time unless I've convinced you that my ideas are founded on careful study--on learning, rather than on ignorant superstitions."

Now completely baked as to Kane's intent, Dribeck shrugged. "All right, I'll grant that you're well informed. But come to the point."

"I've spent a great deal of time in Carsultyal," Kane went on. "Her days of glory are long past, it's true, but that land was the center of man's exploration of elder knowledge. Most of the 'discoveries' that mankind built a civilization upon after the fall of the Golden Age were actually rediscoveries of alien science, pickings gleaned from the scrapheaps of vanished prehuman civilizations."

"Truth that has already all but passed from the popular mind," Dribeck nodded. "Man knows that he sprang forth on the Earth full grown, but in his conceit he has forgotten the reasons for his short infancy. Yes, I know the great works of Carsultyal. I've read of the fantastic discoveries of those early men--the giants who fathomed the secrets of elder Earth to build a civilization overnight upon the prehuman ruins. I even have two volumes of Kethrid in my library, including the launching of Yhosal-Monyr and his voyages to explore the ancient Earth. It's a tragedy that the entire tale of that first great exploration is unknown to history."

"Tragedy? But then Kethrid lived for the poetry of the mysterious," mused Kane.

Withdrawing his thoughts from another path, he continued. "Good! Then you're familiar with much that I'm going to disclose to you. Do you know Alorri-Zrokros's Book of the Elders?"

"I know of it," Dribeck acknowledged, "though I've never seen a copy--nor spoken with one who has. Alorri-Zrokros's grand design of compiling a history of prehuman Earth was a brilliant conception. The zeal with which he pursued his researches bore unhallowed results, as his contemporaries record. Following that, little effort was made to preserve his work for those who might follow him."