A Dragon's Ascension - Ed Greenwood [13]
"We could be so great & land!" he roared suddenly, startling the nearest dutiful page, standing by the door beside an impassive guard. "Peace, and a few good harvests, and we'd be awash in coins and folk eager to better their lot…"
His voice trailed off as he strode angrily over to the map again. And I could go hunting, he added silently, his eyes wandering over the painted likenesses of the Windfangs and thinking on how poorly the map showed all the little hidden dells and back trails, and that he'd have to do something about that soon… if peace permitted. Hunting traitors and outlaws and rogue mages, who are all become an overnumerous curse on this fair land.
Blackgult's lips curled as he turned away from the map. As if that was anything new.
"I understand," the warlord in full, gleaming armor said from the towering height of his high-cantled saddle, "that a veteran warrior by the name of Belth Ardurgan dwells here. Do I understand correctly?"
The slack-jawed boy stared up at him, eyes dark and wide, then stammered something inarticulate but affirmative.
Bloodblade smiled encouragingly, and said, "Will you take me to him, please?"
Vigorous nods were added to the incoherency. Bloodblade smiled again and swung himself down from the saddle, landing with a clank. He looked even taller when standing on the ground, somehow. His guide, now mute with excitement, beckoned him in through a dark doorway.
He ducked his head, peered within-and found himself looking into the calm eyes of a scarred man who held a bent bow in his hands, the arrow pointing straight at Bloodblade's throat.
"Fair day," the warlord told the bowman without pause. "I come in peace, desiring to do business with Belth Ardurgan. Have I found him?"
"You have," was the calm reply. "Your business, Goodman Nameless?"
The tall man in armor smiled.
"My name is Sendrith Duthjack; men call me Bloodblade. I have for years been a hiresword of some success."
Belth Ardurgan nodded. "I, too, once rode to war for coins. Once. When I was younger."
Bloodblade nodded. "I also grow old-and I find myself increasingly hungry for peace. Peace for all Aglirta."
The bowman snorted. "Those are words I've heard before." He lowered his bow and turned the arrow aside, just a trifle. "And so?"
"And so I need swordcaptains, and I'm told you're one of the best. I need swordcaptains because I find myself now Baron of Glarond-and have no desire to be one more baron among the endlessly squabbling barons of Aglirta, with their raids and their wizards and their knifings in Sirl alleys. I want peace. I want a new king for this Kingless Land-a real king, who'll keep order and justice throughout the land… for all Aglirtans, not just those with coins and castles."
"A new king," Ardurgan said slowly, as if tasting the words. "And this 'real king' would be you, I take it?"
Bloodblade bowed his head. "If the Three Above grant so."
The old warrior lifted his bow again. "I'm tired of swords and blood and hard riding. Very tired. I could end all your dreams right now, you know-just by letting go of this bowstring."
Duthjack nodded. "So you could." He spread his hands, showing that his fingers were nowhere near his own weapons, and asked quietly, "Is that what you want for Aglirta?"
"No," Belth Ardurgan said slowly. "No, it's not." He lowered his bow and cleared his throat. "Hiring swordcaptains, you said?"
"At twice the usual coin," Bloodblade said flatly. "I want good officers everywhere in the realm after I'm on the throne-not just men to the valiantly getting me there."
"Just." Ardurgan said, shook his head-and then grinned suddenly, stepped forward, and held out his hand. "I believe, Lord Baron and king soon to be, we have a deal. For Aglirta!"
"For Aglirta," Bloodblade replied, clasping forearms with the old bowman, as warriors do. "For a