The Knight

He paused to look at his own. “Sometimes I’ve fought men who had never really learned it, and I’ve always known after the second breath. They go down fast.”

I swallowed. “Like I would have, if you’d had a real sword. That first cut to my ankle.”

“Right. Now we’re going to try something different. Switch your shield over to your right hand, and hold the sword in your left. I want you to think shield, sword, shield, sword. Understand?”

So I learned to fight left-handed. It sounds dumb, I know, but it was a good lesson. When the shield is on your right arm and the sword is in your left hand, you use the shield as much as the sword, and that is the way to win. Begi

But first of all speed. Which is what Garvaon stressed over and over. If you ca

Garvaon was a simple man, and it was that simplicity that made him hard to understand, although I am a simple man myself. He practiced with his men whenever he could, and he taught them to the best of his ability, which was great. He told me once that he was always afraid before the battle, but never afraid once battle was joined. That is the thing that makes men attack too soon, sometimes; but if it ever made Garvaon attack too soon, I never heard the story. When it was time to fight, he told them to follow him and waded into the thick of it. He took pride in his appearance, and in the appearance of his men. He did his duty as he saw it, saw that most men did not, and was a little contemptuous of them because of it. He was the kind of fighting man who sees to it that none of the horses has a loose shoe.

Chapter 56. Ashes In The Pass

For an hour I had been in sight of the pass as we toiled up the War Way. Now, abruptly, there was someone—no, two people—standing in the road there, crimson against the cloudy sky. I wanted to spur the stallion, but he had been working hard all morning, and whatever reserves he had might be needed that afternoon.

One of the figures was waving and pointing, hips thrown to counterbalance the graceful body; as it pointed I realized it was not that they were sunlit against the lowering clouds; but that they were in fact red.

And women.

“Uri! Baki! Is that you?”

Something bent and so dirty that it seemed to have been molded from the mud of the road rose from the ditch to catch my stirrup. “Master? Sar Able?

Master?”

Startled, I pulled up.

“Master! I found ya!”

I could only stare at the starved, grimy face.

“Ya was goin’ to take me. Ta give me a place, Master. Ya tolt Ma.”

“I’m sorry,” I said as gently as I could. “Do I know you?”

“Uns, Master. I’se Uns, ‘n I fought Org fer ya after he t’rue ya i

“The farmwife’s son.” I was thinking out loud. “The younger son.”

“Yessar. Yes, Master. Org’d a’ killed ya if it hadn’t been fer me.” His watery eyes were exactly like those of a wounded animal.

“He hurt you,” I said. “I thought you’d run.”

Uns nodded frantically. “Ma said. She said you was goin’ ta take me on on’y ya t’ought I’d run off. So I gone lookin’ fer ya. I can’t stand up straight, but I can walk pretty fast.” Something like pride crept into Uns’ soiled face. “Dey tolt me i

From the white stallion’s other side, Uri reached up to tap my thigh. “When you are through talking to that beggar, Lord, Baki and I have something of importance to show you.”

I looked around at her. “Is it urgent?”

“We think so.”

“I’m going up there, Uns.” I pointed as I spoke. “Meet me there. Or if I’ve gone before you arrive, follow me just as you’ve been doing. I’ll get you a horse as soon as I can manage it.”

Uri said, “May I sit behind, Lord? I ran down to you.”

I thought about how it would feel. “No, you can’t.” I dismounted. “But you may have the saddle to yourself. I’ll lead him.”

“I ca

“Then you must walk with Uns and me.”

“I will climb the rocks,” she decided, “there is shade there.” For a time we saw her slipping into crevices like a shadow or springing from point to point like a goat, dodging the sunlight whenever the sun broke through the clouds; soon it seemed that she had faded into the wind.

“Dat’s a Aelf, Master,” Uns declared. “Her ‘n her sister come snoopin’ round couple times wilst I’se on da road, on’y I woun’t tell ’em nothin’.”

“It would have done no harm,” I said. “I’m glad they didn’t hurt you.” Uns chortled. “Oh, dey done wat dey might, Master, on’y ’twasn’t much.”

“It’s good that you can make merry about it, Uns. I don’t think most people could.”

He gri

“If you’re going with us,” I said slowly, “things are sure to be far from all right with you. We are already on the marches of Jotunland.”

Uns looked frightened.

That evening we camped in the valley on the other side of the pass, in a place nearly level, where a tortuous path wound down a gorge to a foaming stream. I came to Beel’s pavilion there and found him conferring with Garvaon while Id

“Sit down,” Beel said when his servingman had fetched a folding stool. “Sir Garvaon and I have been discussing the dangers we face from this time forward. I was on the point of sending the sentry for you when he said you were waiting outside. You’re our best bowman, and that may mean a great deal.”

“But a poor swordsman.” I smiled wryly; I was tired, so tired that I was very grateful for the stool on which I sat and wished it had a back.

Garvaon shook his head. “Don’t you believe him, Your Lordship. He’s better with a sword than most, and improving every day. What about a little practice when we’re through here, Sir Able?”

“I’ll do my best.”

Id

“Needs the fire to wake him up. Then he’ll be at me like a lion.”

I cleared my throat. “I’m tired, I admit. But I’ve had bad news today.”

Beel asked what it had been.

“I told you I’d leave you when we reached the pass where my servant waited, Your Lordship. I’m sure you remember.”

Id

“Yet we’ve come beyond it, and I’m still here. I think I also told you that I’d sent Gylf ahead to let Pouk know I was coming.”

“Gylf’s your dog?” Beel inquired.

“Yes, My Lord.”

Id

I spread my hands. “I’d gladly lend him if I had him, My Lady. Though he left you, he hasn’t returned to me.”

Beel said, “And your dog?”

“My Lord has run ahead of me. Gylf hasn’t returned.”

Garvaon said, “You’d better tell us.”

“I’ll be as brief as I can. My man Pouk seems to have thought the pass back there a suitable place for me to take my stand as I had pledged myself to do. He camped there, apparently for several days. We found the remains of two fires, and even the spot where he’d pastured the horses.”