The Shadows of God - J. Gregory Keyes [60]
Sterne watched him for a moment, then whispered to his second.
“Your Majesty,” Sterne's second said, “my master is in need of a rapier, of the older sort. Is one to be found?”
“Indeed,” the king replied. He signed, and a few moments later a servant returned with several. Sterne tried them, one by one, finally settling on one somewhat longer and heavier than the Apalachee's weapon.
A murmur went up at the unusual choice. Though some still wore such old-style rapiers, few still fought with them, preferring the lighter, nimbler smallsword, for good reason: while a man with a rapier made one thrust, the bearer of a smallsword could parry and riposte twice, despite the difference in length. Don Pedro's Spanish weapon was almost as light as a smallsword, and so could be fenced with in the usual manner. The weapon Sterne had chosen must weigh three pounds.
“Will you use a main gauche, sir?” Don Pedro asked.
“I suppose,” Sterne replied.
It was then that Franklin remembered something about warlocks. They were very, very strong.
“Uh-oh,” Franklin heard Robert mumble.
Franklin's belly clenched again, and he quickly made his way to Don Pedro's side just as Robert was handing him the dagger he would use in his left hand.
“He is not a normal man, Don Pedro,” Franklin whispered. “He can wield that rapier like a smallsword.”
“An interesting thing to learn, now,” Don Pedro said solemnly. Then he laughed, and slapped Franklin on the back.
“I regret our bargain, Don Pedro. Call this off.”
“Nonsense. It isn't the sword that wins or loses, or even the strength of the arm—it is the man and the God he worships. That man is an agent of Lucifer. God will give me the victory. If he does not, I am not worthy to live anyway.” He held out his hand for Franklin to shake, then took his place in the cleared space on the floor.
If I have seen further it is by standing on the shoulders of giants.
—Isaac Newton
Minko Chito stared off at the West, straining to see what no mere mortal eyes could discern.
“It is out there, this army?”
“It is,” Red Shoes assured him.
Minko Chito nodded absently. “I have killed many men,” he said. “I once went amongst the Chickasaw, into Long Town itself, and came out with two scalps. I ran for half a month to fight the Big Hill people, and half a month back, chased by them the whole way, and I laughed. But this—this is different. These enemies come from the West, from the Nightland, where the accursed live.”
“Some say we came from there,” Red Shoes reminded him. “Do not fear them. They have accursed beings, yes. But you have me, and I have never failed you.”
“I failed you,” Minko Chito remarked contritely.
“No. The Bone Men were right. You had to know. You can't be trusting when you deal with the other world. What seems helpful can easily become terrible.” He clapped the chief on the back. “Tell your warriors to strike with their arrows and muskets, with their ball-headed war clubs and their steel-toothed axes. Leave the accursed beings for me to fight.”
“Else we perish, as I saw in my visions,” Minko Chito muttered. “Our bones gnawed by dogs, never picked smooth and bundled into the House of Warriors. Yes, I know we must fight. I know the vision was true. But I am not too proud to say I fear the spirits, as I fear no man. No one can fault me for it.”
“No one does,” Red Shoes told him. “But as you fear no man, I fear no spirit. I have defeated the Long Black Being. I have defeated the Snake Crawfish, the Antler Serpent. I will defeat this child of the witches.”
Minko Chito nodded. “When?”
“Soon they will try to cross the river. We must stop them.”
“How, if they have ships that fly? What will the river mean to them?”
“They have too many men and horses, too few ships. I think they will try to build a bridge. If they use the flying ships, I shall deal with them.”
“I'm going to shoot a lot of them,” a young voice said. It was Chula.
“Hello, younger cousin,” Red Shoes said.
“Hello, elder cousin,” the boy replied. “In a few days,