Duncan, Dave - The Seventh Sword - 3 - The Destiny Of The S_1

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This book is
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE: A TRYST HAS BEEN CALLED
BOOK ONE: HOW THE SWORDSMAN WEPT
BOOK TWO: HOW THE SWORDSMAN MET HIS 65 MATCH
BOOK THREE: HOW THE BEST SWORD WON 127
BOOK FOUR: HOW THE SWORDSMAN TOOK 193 COMMAND
BOOK FIVE: HOW THE SWORDSMAN RETURNED THE SWORD
248
EPILOGUE: THE LAST MIRACLE
329
First your brother you must chain. And from another wisdom gain. When the mighty
has been spurned, An army earned, a circle turned, So the lesson may be learned.
Finally return that sword And to its destiny accord.
The riddle of the demigod— his instructions to Lord Shonsu
PROLOGUE:
A TRYST HAS BEEN CALLED
A tryst had been called in Casr and the Goddess had blessed it. Now any boat or
ship that carried a swordsman might find itself arriving at Casr.
The swordsmen would then disembarked and went in search of glory. The vessels
would then be returned by Her Hand to their home waters, where the crews and
passengers spread the word: A tryst had been called.
In the villages, the cities, and the palaces of the World, Her swordsmen heard
the summons. They heard it in the steamy jungles of Aro and on the windy plains
of Grin; among the orchards of Altia and the paddies of Az. They heard it in
sandy Ib Man and under the glacier peaks of Zor.
Garrison swordsmen heard it in corridors or busy streets. Free swords heard it
on hillsides or on shabby village jetties. They sharpened their blades, they
oiled men- boots and harnesses—and they headed down to the River.
Garrisons were hi turmoil as excited juniors sought out their mentors, demanding
to be led to Casr or released from their oaths. The seniors had then to
decide—to stay with their comforts, their sinecures, and their families, or to
heed the ball of honor and the entreaties of their proteges. Some chose honor
and others contempt.
The wandering bands of free swords had no such problem, for they were on Her
service at all times. In many cases they did not
1
2 THE DESTINY OF THE SWORD
even discuss the matter—they merely rose to their feet and went.
Yet the Goddess could take but few of Her swordsmen, or She would have left Her
world without law and without order. Many an eager company embarked, and sailed,
and soon found the light changing, the weather altered, the scenery shifted, and
Casr coming up ahead. Others no less eager, and apparently no less worthy,
embarked and sailed and were disappointed—the River did not change for them. No
true swordsman would believe that he was undeserving... There was argument.
Argument led to recrimination, recrimination to quarrel, quarrel to insult,
insult to challenge, and challenge to bloodshed. The wounded went to the
healers, the dead to the River. The survivors disembarked, reformed in other
groupings, and tried again in other ships.
Not only swordsmen heard the call. Behind them came their wives, their slaves,
their concubines, and often their children. Came, too, the heralds and the
armorers, the minstrels and the healers, and also moneylenders and cobblers and
hostlers and cooks and whores. The youth of the World followed the swordsmen
onto the ships and waited to see where the great River would bear them. Not for
centuries had the Goddess summoned Her swordsmen to a tryst. Such confusion and
disruption of the social order were unknown in the memory of the People.
On reaching Casr every swordsman asked the same question: Why had this tryst
been called, who was the enemy?
And the answer to that was—sorcerers*.
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BOOK ONE:
HOW THE SWORDSMAN WEPT
For a swordsman of the seventh rank to hide—from anyone or anything—was
unthinkable. Nevertheless, WaUie was being deliberately inconspicuous, to say
the least.
He had spent the morning on deck, leaning on the gunwale and witnessing the
tumult and bustle of the docks at Tau, but he had undipped his swordsman
ponytail, letting his thick black hair fall free to his shoulders. He had
removed his harness and sword and laid them on the deck at his feet. The side of
the ship concealed his blue Seventh's kilt and his swordsman boots. Passersby
would therefore see only a very large young man with unusually long hair, unless
they came close enough to note the seven swords on his brow. The dock was low hi
Tau; it would take good eyes to do mat.
Two weeks of uninterrupted sailing from Ov had left Sapphire with stores
depleted and much unfinished business. Mothers had herded children off to seek
dentists. Old Lina had tottered down the plank to haggle with hawkers for meat
and fruit and vegetables, and also flour and spices and salt. Nnanji had taken
his brother to find a healer and have the cast on his arm replaced. Jja had gone
shopping with Lae. Young Sinboro, having been judged to have reached manhood,
had strutted off with his parents in search of a facemarker—there would be a
party on board that evening.
Normally Brota sold the cargo and Tomiyano scouted for
4 THE DESTINY OF THE SWORD
another, but now the sailors were fretting about ballast and trim, so the roles
were reversed. Big fat Brota strapped on her sword, took Mata along to wield it
if necessary, and waddled away in search of profit. Tomiyano ordered two bronze
ingots laid at the foot of the plank, stood young Matarro beside them, and
headed back on board to attend to other business.
He was not left long in peace—traders arrived and Matarro fetched the captain.
As a bargainer, Tomiyano was very nearly as shrewd as his mother. Wallie
eavesdropped happily from his post on the rail while the discussion raged below
him. Eventually the price range was narrowed, and the traders came on board to
inspect the main cargo in the hold. Wallie turned his attention back to the dock
life.
Tau was Wallie's favorite among all the cities of the Regi-Vul loop, although to
call Tau a city was to stretch the term to its limit. As in most towns and
cities, the dock road was too narrow for its duties, cramped between the
bollards, gangplanks, and piles of unloaded cargoes on one side and the traders*
warehouses on the other. The sun was unusually warm for a day in fall and it
shone on a scene of loud and colorful disorder. Wagons rumbled and clanked,
pedestrians milled, slave gangs sweated, hawkers pulled carts and shouted their
wares. There were no rules—traffic went wherever it could find a space. The
clamor of wheels mingled with oaths and insults and abuse. Yet the People were a
good-natured race, and in the main the tumult was without rancor. The air
smelled of horses and dust and people.
Wallie enjoyed watching the horses of the World. They seemed so mythological—the
head of a camel and body of a basset hound. They smelled Earthlike enough,
though. During fee morning he had observed a herd of goats being unloaded. He
had been amused to learn that goats had antlers, not horns. Goats smelled very
earthy.
The backdrop for all this noisy confusion was a facade of two-story warehouses
that fascinated him—dark oak woodwork and beige parqueting like a movie set of
Merrie England; diamond-paned windows and beetling roofs of fuzzy thatch. Yet,
however medieval or Tudor the architecture might seem to him, there were no
farthingaled damsels or beruffed Elizabe-
DAVE DUNCAN 5
than gallants strutting this stage. The dress of the People was simple and
plain—kilts or loincloths on the men and wraps for the women, with the elders of
both sexes decently concealed in robes. Youngsters ran naked. They were a
brown-skinned, brown-haired folk, lithe and merry, and brown also was tine
dominant shade of their garb, the color worn by Thirds, qualified artisans of
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the three hundred and forty-three crafts of the World. The yellow of Seconds and
the white of Firsts brightened the texture, with the rarer orange and red and
green of higher ranks scattered around in the surging, scurrying throng.
A skinny youth in a white loincloth ran past Wallie and dashed down the plank to
go racing and dodging off through the crowd, narrowly avoiding death under the
wheels of a two-horse wagon. He was one of the traders' juniors, so he had
undoubtedly been sent to fetch help. That meant that Tomiyano had made a sale.
In a few minutes the captain emerged on deck and saw his visitors off. The smile
that he then allowed himself told Wallie that the price had been more man
satisfactory.
Tomiyano was an effective young man, aggressive and muscular, weathered to a
dark chestnut, with hair approaching red, although not as red as Nnanji's. He
wore only a skimpy brown breechclout, plus a belt and dagger to show mat he was
captain. Craftmarks of three ships were marked on his forehead, but he was a
very competent sailor, who could have qualified for much higher rank had he
wished. The scar on his face had been made by a sorcerer, and Wallie now knew
that it was an acid bum.
Yet Tomiyano was a mere stripling alongside Wallie. Swordsmen were rarely big,
but Shonsu had been an exception —very big. The sailor had to tilt his head back
to meet Wallie's eyes. He did that now, and his face was full of astonishment.
"Hiding?" he demanded.
Wallie shrugged and smiled. "Being cautious."
The captain's eyes narrowed. "Is that how swordsmen behaved in your dream world,
Shonsu?"
It was only within the last couple of weeks that Wallie had taken the crew of
Sapphire totally into his confidence, explaining
6 THE DESTINY OF THE SWORD
that he was not the original Shonsu, swordsman of the seventh rank; that his
soul had been brought from another world and been given die body of Shonsu, his
skill with a sword, and his unaccomplished mission for the gods- Tomiyano was a
skeptical man. He had learned to trust Lord Shonsu—learned with difficulty, for
the crew of Sapphire had little liking for swordsmen—but he still had trouble
accepting so incredible a story. And tact was not the captain's most conspicuous
trait.
Wallie sighed, thinking of plainclothes detectives and unmarked patrol cars.
"Yes," he admitted. "They did this quite a lot."
Tomiyano snorted in disgust. "And last time we came to Tau you were screaming
because you couldn't find a swordsman. Now the place is full of them."
"Exactly," Wallie said.
That was what he had been studying—swordsmen. Their ponytails and sword hilts
made them conspicuous as they strode through the crowds, and sane civilians made
way for swordsmen. They walked in twos or threes, sometimes fours or fives.
Brown kilts were the most common, of course, but Wallie had seen several
Fourths, two Fifths, and even—surprisingly—one Sixth. He had counted forty-two
swordsmen in die last hour. Tau indeed was full of mem.
Tomiyano looked down at the busy street for a while and then said, "Why?"
Wallie leaned his elbows on the rail and attempted to put his concern into
words. "Work it out, Captain. Suppose you're a swordsman. The Goddess has
brought you to Tau and you're on your way to Casr. You have a prot6g6 or two
with you. You're a Third, or a Fourth, maybe. There must be hundreds of
swordsmen in Casr now... What's the first thing a swordsman will want when he
gets there?"
Tomiyano spat over the side. "Women!"
Wallie chuckled. "Of course. Anything else?"
The sailor nodded, understanding. "A mentor?"
"Right! They're going to start banding together. Every one of them will be
looking out for a good senior to swear to."
"And you don't want an army?" Tomiyano asked.
Wallie grinned at him. "Have you room on board?" There
DAVE DUNCAN
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7
would be few Sevenths around, and some of those would be getting old, for only
rarely could a swordsman reach seventh rank before he was thirty and already at
his peak, although Shonsu had obviously done so—Wallie had frequently studied
his face in a mirror and decided he must be somewhere in his middle twenties. He
was young, therefore. He was big and steely-eyed. If he were to stand at the top
of the gangplank with his blue kilt visible, he would be fighting off would-be
recruits in no time.
"No!" the captain said firmly. The thought of a few dozen swordsmen on his
beloved Sapphire would be enough to loosen his teeth. He smiled faintly and
muttered, "Considerate of you!"
And that, Wallie thought, was almost another miracle in itself.
"Look there!" he said.
The swordsman Sixth was returning and now he marched at the head of a column of
ten. A Fifth leading two Thirds passed mem, and sunbeams streaked from blades as
salutes were exchanged. Civilians dodged, doubtless cursing under their breath.
Tomiyano grunted and went off to attend to business, while Wallie mused that his
explanation to the captain had been less man half the truth. The juniors would
be seeking mentors, true, but the seniors would be even more actively recruiting
protege's. Followers brought status. Status would be a much sought-after
commodity in Casr now.
Which raised the possibility that perhaps he ought to be recruiting an army. He
bore the Goddess' own sword, he was Her champion... maybe he was supposed to
arrive at the tryst with some status of his own. It would not be difficult. He
could accost that Sixth and take him over, together with his ten flunkies. If he
balked, Wallie could challenge—no Sixth had a hope against Shonsu. Afterward the
man could be bandaged and sent out to round up more.
Might that explain why the Goddess had delivered these particular swordsmen to
Tau instead of directly to Casr?
The thought held no appeal for Wallie. The whole tryst held no appeal. He still
had not decided whether he was going to collaborate or not. So he let the
green-kilted Napoleon continue
8
THE DESTINY OF THE SWORD
his parade along the docks unmolested. If the gods wanted that man to swear to
Lord Shonsu, then neither of them would be able to leave Tau until they
cooperated. Their ships would merely return to Tau instead of going on to Casr.
Casr was a monstrous thundercloud on Wallie's horizon. He did not know what he
wanted to do there, or what might be awaiting him. He knew that the original
Shonsu had been castellan of the swordsmen's lodge in Casr, so Wallie must
expect to be recognized when he arrived. He might find family or friends — or
enemies. Nnanji, for one, was convinced that Shonsu was destined to become
leader of the tryst. That might be the case, for certainly he knew more about
the sorcerers and their un-Worldly abilities than any other swordsman. But he
also knew enough to believe that the tryst was a horrible error. He was almost
more inclined to try to block it than to lead it.
Tomiyano had rounded up his men. Holiyi, Maloli, Linihyo, and Oligarro — two
cousins and two cousins by marriage. They were taking off the hatch covers and
stacking the planks out of the way. Up on the poop deck the remaining children
were playing loudly under the watchful eye of Fia, who wielded the unarguable
authority of a twelve-year-old.
A wagon drew up alongside and unloaded a slave gang. The trader, a plump Fifth,
began shouting unnecessary orders hi a squeaky voice, and the derrick was swung
out and put to use. Wallie watched as the bronze ingots from Gi were borne away.
He wondered idly which one of those ingots had saved his life from the
sorcerers' muskets hi Ov,
Slaves wore black and little of it, for no one wasted cloth on a slave. They
were a cowed and smelly bunch, that slave gang — skinny men in skimpy
loincloths, working like fiends, streaming sweat while their bony rib cages
pumped. Their backs were scarred. They ran, not daring to walk. They strained at
the windlass handles until their eyes popped. Wallie could hardly bear to watch,
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for it was slavery more than anything else that brought home to him the faults
of this barbaric, iron-age World. The thatched warehouses might teem with rats
and the people with fleas, the alleys smell of urine and the streets of garbage
. . . those he could tolerate, but slavery tested his resolve. The slave boss on
die wagon brought out a whip and cracked it a few times to
DAVE DUNCAN 9
increase the pace. He did not recongize the danger looming above him at the
ship's rail. Had he made one serious stroke—just one—he would have found himself
lying on the cobbles, being mercilessly flogged... but he did not know that and
he did not find out.
The wagon was filled and departed. Another took its place. Some members of
Sapphire's crew came wandering back from their explorations and paused to talk
with the big man in the blue kilt. Tau was a turbulent place, they reported. Two
hundred swordsmen had passed through on their way to the tryst, plus several
times that many followers. Tau was a small town. The natives were restless.
Tomiyano went down to the dock and began weighing the traders' gold. Wallie
continued to survey the scene, noting that the swordsmen were bunching as he had
predicted. Couples were very rare now. A Fifth had collected seven, and later
the triumphant Sixth paraded past again with fifteen.
Then Katanji returned, a snowy new cast on his damaged arm outshining his white
kilt. He seemed smaller than ever, his face a paler brown than usual, and his
wide, dark eyes not as sparkly— perhaps the healers had hammered a little too
hard when removing the old plaster. His hair was beginning to reach a more
respectable length for a swordsman's, but it curled up in a tiny bun instead of
making a ponytail. He wore no sword, of course. Barring a miracle, he would
never use that arm again—but miracles were not uncommon around Shonsu.
He managed an approximation of his normal pert smile, white teeth gleaming in
dark face, while his eyes noted with surprise Wallie's unarmed, undressed state.
"Where's your brother?" Wallie demanded.
Katanji's wan smile became a smirk. "I left him to it, my lord."
He need say no more. Nnanji was still in a state of witless infatuation over the
lithesome Thana, but it was four weeks since be had been ashore for recreation.
"The girls have been busy, I imagine?" Wallie inquired.
Katanji rolled his eyes. "The poor things are worn out, they told me." He
scowled. "And they've raised their prices!"
Innocent little Katanji, of course, had seduced Diwa, Mei, and
10
THE DESTINY OF THE SWORD
DAVE DUNCAN
11
lately possibly Hana on the ship, and his need would not have been as great as
his brother's. It would take more than a woman to make Katanji lose his head.
Wallie nodded and went back to his spectatiog. His mind began to wander,
reverting to its ever-present worries about Casr and the troubles that must
await him.
Tomiyano came striding back on deck, swinging a leather bag. He grinned happily
at Wallie, jingled the bag gloatingly, and then went to peer down into the
forward hatch and hold a shouted conversation with Oligarro and Holiyi, who had
gone below to inspect ballast. The slaves had completed their work and were
dragging their feet back down the gangplank.
Then...
Damn!
Wallie forgot sailors and slaves. Two swordsmen were striding across the road,
obviously heading for Sapphire. The vacation was over! With a muffled curse, he
ducked down out of sight and scrabbled for his sword. He was still on his knees
and frantically fastening harness buckles when boots drummed on the gangplank.
The two swordsmen came on deck and marched right by him.
Tomiyano spun around as if he had been kicked. In two fast strides he moved to
accost the newcomers, feet apart, arms akimbo, and face thrust forward
aggressively, his anger showing like a warning beacon.
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file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/Dave%20Duncan%20-%2...th%20Swo d%20-%203%20-%20The%20Destiny%20Of%20The%20Sword.txtThisbookisCONTENTSPROLOGUE:ATRYSTHASBEENCALLEDBOOKONE:HOWTHESWORDSMANWEPTBOOKTWO:HOWTHESWORDSMANMETHIS65MATCHBOOKTHREE:HOWTHEBESTSWORDWON127BOOKFOUR:HOWTHESWORDSMANTOOK193COM...

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