Medieval 03 - Enchanted

slamming shut.
    “Just as well,” Simon said into the
uncomfortable silence. “I have no love of
witchery.”
    “And Learning?” Erik challenged softly.
“What of it?”
    “The Disputed Lands are welcome to their
Learning. I will put my faith in this.”
    Simon drew his sword with startling speed. The
somber length of the blade gleamed in the daylight.
    “Ah, your black sword,” Erik
murmured.
    He looked at the weapon with open curiosity. It was
the first time he had seen it closely, for Simon used a different,
blunter weapon for mock battles.
    There was something about the black sword that
intrigued Erik. It was as though a pattern had once existed, then
been erased.
    Holding out his hand, Erik said, “May
I?”
    However much the Learned sorcerer might irritate
Simon on occasion, he had no doubt of Erik’s
trust-worthiness. With a deft movement of his hands, Simon reversed
the sword and held it out pommel first.
    The pommel was as black as the blade, and as
austere. It lacked decoration of any kind. Erik grasped the heavy
blade carefully and held the pommel up to the light. As he turned
the blade, sunshine poured over the dark metal of the pommel,
revealing that it had been reworked.
    “As I thought,” Erik said. “It
held jewels once. Gold inlay, too, I would guess.”
    “Aye,” Simon said.
    Something in Simon’s voice made Erik look up
from his study of the sword.
    “Spoils of war?” Erik asked
blandly.
    “Aye.”
    “A pity the pommel has been
ruined.”
    “Ruined?” Simon laughed curtly.
“It affects the blade’s balance and edge not one whit.
In any case, Dominic’s life was worth far more than the
handful of gems I pried out of the pommel.”
    “Ransom?” asked Erik.
    “Yes.”
    “An ancient Saracen custom.”
    “So is treachery,” Simon retorted.
    Erik’s smile was as cruel as the curve of a
falcon’s beak. “Treachery knows no single people. Like
Original Sin, it is a common heritage of Man.”
    Simon’s answering smile was a replica of
Erik’s.
    “In the end, we freed Dominic by
force,” Simon said. “Then we tore down the
sultan’s palace stone by stone and scattered it across the
desert.”
    With a smooth, swift motion, Simon sheathed the
sword.
    “They are coming,” Erik said.
    Together Simon and Erik turned as Amber and Duncan
hurried across the bailey’s cobblestones to bid their guests
Godspeed.
    Duncan’s appearance had been a signal for one
of his grooms. The young man came from the stable area at a trot,
leading two horses. The first was the stout mare that had been
Ariane’s mount while at Stone Ring Keep. The second was a
filly with the same muscular build and clear, steady eye.
    “The dark mare is no racer,” Duncan
said to Simon, “but she has the unflinching heart of a
war-horse. So does her daughter. Take them, breed them to your
stallion, and let their sons carry your sons into battle and safely
home again.”
    “Lord Duncan…” Simon began
formally. His voice died. “You are too generous. Already you
have given me enough to furnish a keep, yet I have no keep to my
name.”
    “I could give you all I have and still be in
your debt,” Duncan said simply. “If you had not taken
my place next to Ariane, there would have been bloody chaos and
death where there now is peace and life.”
    Duncan gave Simon a quick, hard hug while their
wives exchanged farewells.
    “I will miss you, Simon the Loyal,”
Duncan said quietly.
    “And I you,” Simon said, returning the
hug.
    As Simon stepped back, he smiled wryly at
Duncan.
    “To think,” Simon said, “that I
first met you at my brother’s wedding, when I held my knife
between your thighs to assure your good behavior.”
    Duncan gave a crack of laughter.
    “Glad I am that you have a steady
hand,” Duncan said.
    “So am I,” Amber said dryly.
    Smiling, Simon turned to Ariane and held out his
hand.
    “Allow me to assist you,” he said.
“We must be on our way before more clouds gather.”
    Before Ariane could agree or disagree, Simon swept
her up in his arms and deposited her on the back ofhis long-legged hunting horse. The animal snorted and
sidestepped, sending shod hooves ringing against stone.
    Ariane curbed the spirited beast with an ease that
made Simon smile. He turned to his own war stallion and vaulted
into the saddle.
    Amid cries of Godspeed, the clatter of hooves, and
the eager barking of Erik’s wolfhounds, Simon, Ariane, Erik,
and their retainers set off for Stone Ring Keep.