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"Any faster, need armor." Harald handed the sword back to Hen, turned to go.
"Show us more."
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He turned back, looked at the faces most eager reached out for the sword.
Mikel felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Know folk would pay good silver to watch those two at practice."
He turned, recognized Stephen, behind him the King, both watching the two figures in the ring.
"My lord." He stopped, hesitated.
"Yes." He turned back to watch.
Later, Harald met Leonora emerging from the bath house, hair dripping.
"Fun; should do it more often."
She nodded. Hen joined them.
"That was wonderful. Father says you re riding south to the city. Can I come? I could help with the
horses."
"Up to Yosef. Doesn t need you, glad of the company. Friend I d like you to meet."
The next morning they were on the road Harald, James, Hen and a decade of cats.
By the end of the second day Hen had lost his awe of the King, discovered a subject of common interest.
The next morning they fell to the back of the line of horsemen to discuss it out of his earshot. Hen was
halfway through the fight by Willow Creek when the King s horse shied to one side.
Hen shouted "  Ware ambush," wheeled his horse, charged at the men coming out of the forest edge. The
King s horse bolted down the road. By the time he had it back under control everything was over. Most of
the cats, mounted, were clustered around Hen. A moment later two more came out of the woods.
"Ran."
"Too late to catch them now. Knute, help James with the horse arrow in the left rump. Hen?"
"Is the King all right?"
"King s fine. His horse has an arrow in it. What about you?"
Hen looked down.
"Oh."
One arrow was standing out of his side, a second in his left shoulder.
"Let me get you down. Gently, lady mine."
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The gray mare stepped daintily sideways, next to Hen s gelding. Harald lifted the boy out of the saddle,
handed him down to one of the two on foot, then dismounted.
"Was I right? You said about archers. I knew, but . . ."
"But they didn t. You were right. Why they ran." As he spoke, Harald was reaching into his saddlebag. A
moment later he was kneeling by the boy.
Half an hour later the arrows were out, Hen still, eyes closed, breathing. Harald looked up. Knute gestured
at the two horses, the litter between them.
"Safe to move?"
"Think so rib stopped it. Inn s not that far."
Harald listened a moment to the noise of voices in the street outside, poured a last dipper of warm water
over himself, climbed out of the wooden tub, dumped in his discarded clothing, stretched. A few minutes
of stirring got rid of most of the river mud. He wrung out tunic and drawers, hung them over the back of
the bench, pulled on dry clothes, went out into the inn courtyard, damp garments over one arm.
Waiting for him were two familiar faces. He looked at one, spoke to the other.
"What are you doing here? Should have him back to Forest Keep by now."
Knute shrugged. "Not my kid; said he wanted to come south."
Harald turned to Hen, waited.
"James . . . His Majesty . . . said to visit. Never seen the city, almost there. Besides, you had a friend you
wanted me to meet. Keep s boring."
"Dying is worse. Let me see."
He led the boy back into the privacy of the bath house, helped him pull off his tunic, looked over the
wounds in side and shoulder.
"Not bad, should still take it easy."
"I walked the horse all the way Knute said."
"All the way home too. Dinner, good night s rest here; I m too old to go scrambling over rocks. Tomorrow
visit your friend James, couple of ladies. Head back, stop by some friends of mine, take care of an errand,
back north. Walking."
A day and a half later, rested and fed, they rode out of the King s castle headed west, Hen quieter than
usual. After a while he spoke.
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"It felt like home."
"Save a man s life, womenfolk are apt to appreciate you."
"Didn t."
"He had sense enough to wear mail not like some I could mention. Arrow can still go through it."
"Elen was nice." He looked down a moment. "Like Mother when I was little."
"Good lady. No children of her own."
"The little girl was sweet."
Knute snorted. "Visits the most beautiful lady in the kingdom, all he notices is the baby."
"Is she?" Hen looked frankly curious; Harald answered.
"Beautiful. Brave. More sense than most. Better than James deserves anyone else I can think of. Pretty
baby too takes after her mother." They rode on in comfortable silence.
By late afternoon they had left the river valley, following a path that climbed north. On their right a small
river, sometimes near, sometimes out of sight. At last Harald stopped, motioned Knute back, rode forward
with Hen beside him. On their right the forest fell back, plowed land, meadow. A small house, a barn, a [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]