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who go about bare titted and see to the needs of fighting men. In Alb
they would be called whores and camp followers which I suppose they
are but I think they are more than that. I have heard that they sometimes
fight alongside the men. They tend the wounded and fix the food and bear wine
and beer to the thirsty and do other things as well, you will understand!"
Sylvo rolled his eyes suggestively and smacked his lips again. "Some of the
kyries have beauty, master. Sturdy and plump and well made for a strong man.
I "
"You," Blade said harshly, "will stay away from kyries. As you will also stay
clear of wine and beer. I
have made a plan and when it comes to the crux I may have need of you, sudden
and desperate need, and I will have you sober. In any case it will be
unhealthy for you to go sniffing around these kyries you will end up shorter
by a head. This is understood?"
Syivo looked worried again, but nodded vigorously. "It is well understood,
master, and also wise. I
had the same thoughts myself, not being a complete fool, and though one of the
kyries has already taken a fancy to me I paid her no attention. Ar, master, it
is not myself that I worry about."
Blade was donning the clothing laid out for him. There was a kilt instead of
breeches, a fine tunic with
a leather corselet to go over it, under-breeches and high-lacing sandals.
There was no helmet, a thing that
Blade understood. He had not yet been accepted as an equal by the corsairs,
even though he had earned the right in battle. Yet he was not discontent.
Aesculp, her bronze clean and shining, stood in a corner.
Blade finished dressing, deliberately prolonging the silence while Sylvo
mumbled and fidgeted.
Then: "You mean that it is me you worry about? You will explain that remark,
Sylvo!"
The man still fidgeted but his squint eyes met Blade's squarely. "Ar, master,
I will. You have treated me like a man, not a dog, and as a man I will speak.
I fear that you will go too far that is the plain truth of it. I know not your
plans, nor want to, but I am frightened all the same. I have come to know you
well, master, and I know how you dare things that would scare even Thunor. And
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since my fate is linked with yours, master I would not have it else I beseech
you to go gently and with caution. This Getorix, called Redbeard, is a great
warrior, though also a murderous one, and those who serve him well are
rewarded well. Have done, master. Leave off! This is our chance to live and to
make our fortunes."
Blade fetched him a buffet between the shoulders that nearly drove Sylvo to
his knees. He grinned hugely at the man. "You have cast your fortunes with
mine in this matter, Sylvo. If things go well I will make you a prince."
Sylvo, withdrawing a discreet pace or two, and rubbing his shoulder, smiled
wryly. "Ar, master, even as you made yourself a prince of London? Wherever
that is."
"Mind your tongue," said Blade. "I will keep my promise I will make you a
prince, though you will make a sorry one enough."
"And if things go badly, master?"
"You will share my fate," Blade told him grimly. "Whatever it may
be. Now enough of this prattle have you still the black pearls?"
"I have, master. Redbeard's men did not think me worth searching." Sylvo
fumbled in the waistband of his ragged breeches and brought out the leathern
pouch. He handed it to Blade.
"I thank you," Blade said. "More for your skill in picking pockets than for
the pearls. You are a most excellent thief."
When the nets had fallen and Blade had gone down under the blows of a dozen of
Queen Beata's men he had been immediately searched and the black pearls
taken. Later, in the oubliette, Sylvo explained.
"I was searched by the same bastard that took your pearls, master. Whilst he
took my purse I took the pearls from him. Later I also recovered my money, but
planted the purse on one of them. They fell out about it, each accusing the
other of thieving, and nearly fought. It was something to watch."
Blade spilled the luminous black pearls into his palm. He selected the largest
and tucked it into a fold of his tunic. "You say these sea robbers value
pearls?"
"Ar, master. So I have heard."
"We will see." He handed the pouch back to Sylvo. "Keep it well concealed. We
may have need of these others."
Jarl came and escorted Blade to the great hall. As they crossed the courtyard
the sounds of wassail smote their ears, a moving squall of furious noise.
"Getorix lets his dogs off the leash tonight," Jarl explained. "They have
fought well and have been much at sea. Take care, Blade, that you do
not fall foul of them, for you are not loved by the commonality.
You slew three of their brethren today."
"In fair fight, Jarl. Are they children, to nurse grudges?"
A block had been set up in the courtyard and Blade halted by it now,
professing an interest he did not feel. It was a talk with Jarl he wanted.
Jarl, who was brave tonight in a new cloak and a golden chain about his broad
shoulders, watched as
Blade picked up a headsman's axe from the block and hefted it.
"For the morning," he said. "Getorix means to give them the blood they cry
for. Which in part answers your question yes, they are children and as sulky
and unpredictable as such. They must be so treated. Even Getorix himself, at
times, is not so much "
Jarl broke off abruptly and looked away. Blade waited.
Had Jarl been about to say that Getorix himself was childish and
unpredictable? That would be an important thing to know.
Jarl shuffled impatiently in the mud. He was wearing high boots of soft
leather. There was a sliver of moon and the faint rays pricked glints from the
headsman's axe.
"We'd best go," Jarl said brusquely. "Getorix does not like to be kept
waiting."
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Blade placed the axe on the block and turned away. "You call him Getorix at
times. Others call him
Redbeard. Why is this?"
Jarl shrugged. "I call him what I like. I am his brother-in-law, married to
his own sister, Perdita, and I
have certain privilege. Which you do not have, Blade!"
They had halted at the entrance to the great hall. Jarl, ignoring the two
guards who stood nearby, big men in horned helmets and armed with shields and
spears, stared hard at Blade.
"I have a liking for you, Blade. Getorix does not like anyone, but he admires
courage and skill in battle, and more important, he needs good officers. These
scoundrels of ours fight well, but they must also be well led. I have had talk
with Getorix since I saw you last, and he means to make you a captain.
On trial, of course. But take some advice your status is not yet such as gives
you the right to ask questions. For myself, I do not care, but Getorix hates
and distrusts questions and those who ask them.
He wants only obedience and shut mouths. You do well to remember that."
Blade bowed slightly and touched his fingers to his forehead, a gesture he had
seen them use.
"My thanks, Jarl. I think we are going to be friends. And yet I will dare one
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