"Duncan, Dave - Seventh Sword - 03 - Destiny Of The Sword" - читать интересную книгу автора (Duncan Dave)

This book is
dedicated
by a grateful protege
to a peerless mentor
VERONICA CHAPMAN
editor of the seventh rank.
A Del Key Book
Published by Ballantine Books
Copyright © 1988 by D. J. Duncan
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the United States of America by Ballantine Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York, and simultaneously in Canada by Random House of Canada Limited, Toronto.
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number; 88-91967
ISBN 0-345-35293-9
Manufactured in the United States of America
First Edition: December 1988
Cover Art by Romas

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*.

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.