The Magic of Recluce - L. E. Modesitt [186]
“The Sub-Commander of the Guard—a message from a…what are you?”
“A woodworker, among other things.” And I was, more of a woodworker than an order-master, when you got right down to it.
“A message from a woodworker?” The youth in the worked leather-and-brass vest shook his head in disbelief. “She wouldn’t even bother to look at you, fellow.”
The wooden beam framing the open door, the beam against which he leaned, scarcely looked able to support him, let alone the archway, what with the cracks and the age of the dusty structure. At the moment, I was tempted to dip into chaos and age him and the structure further, but…trusting in Justen and the book, I only sighed. “A wager, perhaps?”
“Ha! What would you have to wager, except your hide?”
“Say a couple of silvers that you can’t touch me with that fancy sword—my old staff against your new sword.”
I placed my hand on the staff.
He didn’t even seem to notice its appearance, so surprised was he with my suggestion. “That’s dangerous, fellow. I might take you up on it. It’s a crime to strike a member of the autarch’s guard.”
“Is it a crime to strike your weapon?”
“No.” He looked puzzled.
“Well, that might make it harder. Say a gold and you carry my message to the sub-commander.”
“And when I win?”
“You have at least some of my blood and a gold penny.”
“How do I know you’re honest?”
I sighed. “Because the penalty for being dishonest would likely be my head.”
“You don’t sound like a woodworker…”
The youngster was sharp, almost brilliant.
“I never said that’s all I was.”
His small eyes looked me over, and I could see the scheming beginning.
“I wouldn’t, if I were you. The sub-commander already knows where I’m from, and there’s not one of you that could best her blade.” The words didn’t come out quite right, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“How would you know?”
I managed to keep my face impassive. Sometimes, I actually can.
Then he swallowed. It took him a moment, but, like I said, the young man was almost brilliant, at least for a Candarian. “You put your staff against her blade?”
“That was some time ago. Doubtless she has improved.”
Improved or not, he suddenly realized how close he had come to disaster.
“I could just take your name…and leave the decision to her…”
I inclined my head to him. “That might be best. My name is Lerris.” Of course, that was all that I had ever wanted, but nothing anywhere was straightforward, and for whatever reason, I really hadn’t wanted to demand to see Krystal. Call it stiff-necked pride…whatever. I still had some.
Still shaking his head, the redheaded young trooper yelled into the barracks. “Bidek! Get on up here.”
As soon as another young buck, this one heavier, sloppier, and darker, as well as more disapproving, appeared, the nameless young guard marched across the open courtyard—one of the few in Candar that was actually paved with level and solid stones—and disappeared into a granite three-storied building.
While I waited, I made a few more mental measurements of the area around the doorway, mainly to test the age of the wood, since I had an idea for my defense that would not violate the rules of order, since it was strictly creative.
Using it wasn’t necessary, since three guards marched from the wing of the structure into which the young guard had disappeared. He followed behind them a moment later. All four stopped short of me.
The center guard, wearing clean green leather and a blade that radiated effectiveness, looked at the staff and nodded. “The sub-commander bids you welcome, order-master. Would you be so kind…you are most welcome…”
He definitely wasn’t used to inviting guests into the guard’s domain. I smiled pleasantly. “I appreciate your courtesy and would hope you would be so kind as to lead the way.”
“…order-master…oh, shit…” Both the nameless young guard and Bidek looked as white as the face of chaos as I saluted them with the staff and followed the three troopers into