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

"And I do not plan to visit Plo, in spite of its women."
The swordsman's fists were clenched. Wallie prepared to intervene. It was fun, but very dangerous fun.
"Your insolence becomes tiresome. Swordsmen serve the Goddess and are owed your help. Do not provoke me further!"
"Get off my ship—before I call on my friends!"
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Incredibly, Polini still did not draw, although the First was staring up at him in stunned fury.
"Which friends, Captain?" Polini asked contemptuously, glancing at the other sailors.
"That one for a start." Tomiyano nodded at Wallie. The First wheeled around. The Fifth, suspecting a trap, did not.
The Fust squeaked, "Mentor!" and then Polini turned. He gaped in horror—blue kilt, seven sword facemarks... and a bigger man than himself, which must be a rare surprise for him.
For a moment no one spoke. Wallie was enjoying the effect, but also feeling rather ashamed of himself. Polini was obviously noting his battered boots, his shoddy kilt, and the contrast of the magnificently crafted harness. Then the Fifth recovered and saluted.
Wallie made the response. It was his privilege to speak first, and the captain would expect him to send this impudent interloper off promptly with his tail down; but Wallie was now very curious, and not without admiration. Polini had a craggy, honest-looking face. The First was being impassive, but he blinked and Wallie caught a glimpse of his eyelids. Aha!
"My congratulations, master," Wallie said with a smile. "Not many swordsmen keep their tempers when dealing with Sailor Tbmiyano."
"Your lordship is gracious," Polini replied stiffly. "I see that I unwittingly erred in choosing this vessel. Obviously it is bound for Casr." He would be thinking of Tomiyano's imputation of cowardice, probably suffering a thousand deaths at the thought of a Seventh having heard it and likely agreeing. "With your permission, my lord, I shall depart."
Wallie was not going to let him escape without an explanation, but first he must get in character for a Seventh. "No, master," he said. "You will share some ale with me. I owe you mat much for playing tricks on you. Sailor—three tankards of the mild!"
Tomiyano's jaw dropped at die tone, and he lost his smirk.
Wallie gestured to the aft end of the deck. "Come, Master Polini," he said. "And bring bis Highness along, also."
14 THE DESTINY OF THE SWORD
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The minstrels of the World sang ballads and epics of brave heroes and virtuous maidens, of monsters and sorcerers, of generous gods and just kings. Nnanji loved the heroic ones and could quote them endlessly, but one hero was conspicuously absent: Sherlock Holmes. Wallie's remark almost caused Polini to draw. Tomiyano made the sign of the Goddess, then relaxed when he saw that Lord Shonsu was merely up to his tricks again. The boy paled.
"No, no sorcery, Master Polini!" Wallie said hastily. "Just a good swordsman's eye—observation."
Polini glanced suspiciously over his prot6g6 and back to mis strange Seventh.
"Observation, my lord?"
Wallie smiled. "Few mentors would dress a First so well. Fewer Fifths would even take a First as prote'ge', and you yourself are obviously garbed as a man of high station. But I can go further: I note that his facemark has healed, yet he is so young that his swearing must have been recent. His hair is long enough to make a good ponytail, so his induction to the craft was decided at least a year ago, and only swordsmen's sons can normally count on becoming swordsmen. Yet his parent-marks show that he is the son of a priest. Elementary, Master Polini."
Royal houses were usually founded by swordsmen, but kingship was a dangerous trade. No swordsman could refuse a challenge, whereas a priest was sacrosanct. Kings' sons were mostly sworn to the priesthood.
Polini considered this and bowed his head in agreement. He caught his protegees eye and said, "Learn!" The boy nodded and regarded the Seventh with awe.
Confidence having now returned, Wallie directed them smoothly to the far side of the deck, which was marginally farther from the hubbub of the dock. The aft hatch cover was still open, and die planks had been stacked in a neat pile, a low wall
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that would suffice as a bench. But before he sat down... "Present him, master."
"Lord Shonsu, I am honored to present to you my proteg6, Arganari of the First."
Where, Wallie wondered, had he heard that name before?
The boy reached for his sword, remembered that he was on a ship, and turned the gesture into the start of the civilian salute. His voice was childish and curiously unmusical, making the statement a question, "... any of your noble purposes?"
Wallie solemnly assured him that he was honored to accept his gracious service. He bade his guests be seated, placing himself on a fire bucket beside the steps up to the poop. That way he was facing them and could also keep an eye on the plank. Above him, a tine of youngsters peered down curiously.
The boy was even younger than he had seemed earlier. Wallie thought of the other two swordsman Firsts he knew. Matarro was one of the crew of Sapphire, a water-rat swordsman, and hence a sailor in all but name. Yet he took his craft very seriously, truly believing that to be a swordsman was a great honor. Then mere was nipper Katanji, whose skeptical cynicism would have suited a man four times his age. This lad had neither of those qualities. He must surely be excited, for the Goddess had moved him halfway around the World, from far south to far north, and he was very near to the first tryst in centuries. Yet he was displaying only a solemn wariness, un-sirited to his years.
The visitors sat stiffly on the planks, awaiting the Seventh's pleasure.
"You have a problem, Master Polini," Wallie said. "Perhaps I can help you with it?"
"It is a trivial matter, Lord Shonsu, but near to my honor." I'm not going to talk about it.
"Then I shall guess!" Nosiness was a prerogative of Sevenths. "You have come from the temple?"
Polini half rose, again almost reaching for his sword. He sank back uneasily, staring.
Wallie smiled cheerfully. "You are right to suspect sorcery. The sorcerers can change facemarks, so any man or woman may be a sorcerer. I, however, am not." He wondered if they
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THE DESTINY OF THE SWORD
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had noticed the damnable feather mothermark that the god had placed on his left eyelid. That was going to be a serious problem. "I was merely speculating what a man of honor would do in what I suspect to be your situation." Polini had an honest face. He had been chosen as the most suitable member of the palace guard to be mentor to a prince—a strong tribute to his character. The lad's worshipful attitude seemed genuine. "For some reason you had cause to embark on a ship. You would have many swordsmen in your entourage if you were guarding a prince. The Goddess wanted them for Her tryst, so here you are."
Polini and Arganari both nodded, speechless at such acuity in a swordsman, making Wallie feel smug.
"So you find yourself hi a dilemma of honor—your duty to the Holiest and your duty to the prince. Your decision was to send the rest of the swordsmen on to the tryst and seek to take the boy home. In that situation I would go to the temple and beseech Her to let me return him safely, making solemn pledge that I myself would come back here immediately afterward, I should throw in a promise to enlist more swordsmen, I think."
Polini looked down at the boy, and then they both smiled.
"A kill!" the Fifth said.