[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
on the visitor continued to hover in the vicinity of the injured man. Murat had the impression
that Metaxas managed to grope his way a little nearer, and again a little nearer, whenever a
likely opportunity arose. Drawing almost no attention to himself, and managing somehow to keep out
of everyone else's way, the blind man appeared determined to maintain his presence near Murat.
But Kristin, who arrived at Murat's tent at dawn to spend her time with the Crown Prince, trying
to do something for his wound, soon became irritated by what she considered the beggar's intrusive
presence, and told the fellow to take himself away.
Metaxas at once obediently arose, turned, and started to move off, tapping his way with a crude
cane someone had provided for him. But before he had gone half a dozen steps he turned back,
pleading.
"Your pardon, my lady. Pardon me, Great Lord. But in my youth I possessed some small skill in the
healing arts."
file:///F|/rah/Fred%20Saberhagen/Saberhagen,%2...Lost%20Swords%206%20-%20Mindswords%20Story.txt (53 of 115) [2/4/03 9:54:51 PM]
file:///F|/rah/Fred%20Saberhagen/Saberhagen,%20Fred%20-%20Lost%20Swords%206%20-%20Mindswords%20Story.txt
Murat and Kristin both looked at him doubtfully, then at each other. Nothing else was doing the
injury any good.
Evidently encouraged by silence, the beggar made the most of his chance. "With your permission, I
would like to try to alleviate Your Worship's pain, to make it sooner possible for Your Worship to
ride again, and lead us where you will."
"What manner of treatment do you have in mind?" Murat rasped at him, his voice half-suspicious,
half-contemptuous.
Metaxas launched into an excited plea. "Oh, the master need not be concerned! I will not ask for
hair, or fingernails, or any substance proceeding from the great lord's body. Not a scrap of his
clothing will I require, nor even a pinch of dirt from his footprint. It should be enough, with
your permission, for me to chant a few words from afar."
Murat stared doubtfully at the wretch for a few moments, then shrugged. "Chant, then," he agreed.
"Preferably from the greatest possible distance that will allow you to remain within the camp. Or
go farther, if you will; suit yourself about that."
The eyeless man bowed, muttering words of gratitude. By this time a pair of half-suspicious
Tasavaltan guards, taking their cue from their master's attitude and tone, had come to flank
Metaxas, and they guided him in his withdrawal to the other side of camp.
Murat engaged once more in conversation with Kristin, and promptly forgot about the former beggar.
But a few minutes later the Crown Prince, happening to move his leg, noted that the pain was much
diminished. The improvement had occurred with magical suddenness.
Soon he had to admit to himself that Metaxas had demonstrated his ability to work a minor healing
spell, even while not being allowed to touch the patient.
When Murat called Kristin's attention to this fact, she was delighted at the improvement, but at
first unwilling to give credit to the eyeless man. Murat, however, insisted that he knew the touch
of healing magic when he felt it, and the Princess was forced to admit that the great bruise on
his leg now looked better. The swelling in his thigh had clearly started to diminish, though the
leg was still too painful for him to consider riding except in the most immediate emergency.
Despite Kristin's continued antipathy to the begger, Murat had him summoned again and thanked him.
Then, in response to a pleading look from the Princess, he banished his benefactor once more to
the far side of camp.
Even had Murat been ready to ride at once, still there would have been delay in getting on the
road to Culm today. The men in charge of the riding-beasts and loadbeasts came to report a newly
discovered problem. A swarm of mice, which everyone was sure must have been produced or at least
mobilized by Karel's magic, had appeared overnight to devour and scatter much of the grain in
camp. Feed would have to be carried for the animals on a trip across the badlands. It would be
folly to trust to forage on the journey; there were certain to be long barren stretches where the
grazing was inadequate.
Nor were mice the only new difficulty. Harness kept breaking, every second or third time an animal
was saddled or loaded. And the sky to the south was leaden, shot through by flickers of distant
lightning, indicating that a savage storm was brewing.
Murat was well aware of Karel's reputation, and had had no wish to make an enemy of such a
powerful magician. But, as he reflected in conversation with Carlo and Kristin, events had swept
him along, and there had really been no alternative.
His listeners slavishly agreed.
The rest of the day passed fairly uneventfully. During the following night, Vilkata as usual [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl rafalstec.xlx.pl
on the visitor continued to hover in the vicinity of the injured man. Murat had the impression
that Metaxas managed to grope his way a little nearer, and again a little nearer, whenever a
likely opportunity arose. Drawing almost no attention to himself, and managing somehow to keep out
of everyone else's way, the blind man appeared determined to maintain his presence near Murat.
But Kristin, who arrived at Murat's tent at dawn to spend her time with the Crown Prince, trying
to do something for his wound, soon became irritated by what she considered the beggar's intrusive
presence, and told the fellow to take himself away.
Metaxas at once obediently arose, turned, and started to move off, tapping his way with a crude
cane someone had provided for him. But before he had gone half a dozen steps he turned back,
pleading.
"Your pardon, my lady. Pardon me, Great Lord. But in my youth I possessed some small skill in the
healing arts."
file:///F|/rah/Fred%20Saberhagen/Saberhagen,%2...Lost%20Swords%206%20-%20Mindswords%20Story.txt (53 of 115) [2/4/03 9:54:51 PM]
file:///F|/rah/Fred%20Saberhagen/Saberhagen,%20Fred%20-%20Lost%20Swords%206%20-%20Mindswords%20Story.txt
Murat and Kristin both looked at him doubtfully, then at each other. Nothing else was doing the
injury any good.
Evidently encouraged by silence, the beggar made the most of his chance. "With your permission, I
would like to try to alleviate Your Worship's pain, to make it sooner possible for Your Worship to
ride again, and lead us where you will."
"What manner of treatment do you have in mind?" Murat rasped at him, his voice half-suspicious,
half-contemptuous.
Metaxas launched into an excited plea. "Oh, the master need not be concerned! I will not ask for
hair, or fingernails, or any substance proceeding from the great lord's body. Not a scrap of his
clothing will I require, nor even a pinch of dirt from his footprint. It should be enough, with
your permission, for me to chant a few words from afar."
Murat stared doubtfully at the wretch for a few moments, then shrugged. "Chant, then," he agreed.
"Preferably from the greatest possible distance that will allow you to remain within the camp. Or
go farther, if you will; suit yourself about that."
The eyeless man bowed, muttering words of gratitude. By this time a pair of half-suspicious
Tasavaltan guards, taking their cue from their master's attitude and tone, had come to flank
Metaxas, and they guided him in his withdrawal to the other side of camp.
Murat engaged once more in conversation with Kristin, and promptly forgot about the former beggar.
But a few minutes later the Crown Prince, happening to move his leg, noted that the pain was much
diminished. The improvement had occurred with magical suddenness.
Soon he had to admit to himself that Metaxas had demonstrated his ability to work a minor healing
spell, even while not being allowed to touch the patient.
When Murat called Kristin's attention to this fact, she was delighted at the improvement, but at
first unwilling to give credit to the eyeless man. Murat, however, insisted that he knew the touch
of healing magic when he felt it, and the Princess was forced to admit that the great bruise on
his leg now looked better. The swelling in his thigh had clearly started to diminish, though the
leg was still too painful for him to consider riding except in the most immediate emergency.
Despite Kristin's continued antipathy to the begger, Murat had him summoned again and thanked him.
Then, in response to a pleading look from the Princess, he banished his benefactor once more to
the far side of camp.
Even had Murat been ready to ride at once, still there would have been delay in getting on the
road to Culm today. The men in charge of the riding-beasts and loadbeasts came to report a newly
discovered problem. A swarm of mice, which everyone was sure must have been produced or at least
mobilized by Karel's magic, had appeared overnight to devour and scatter much of the grain in
camp. Feed would have to be carried for the animals on a trip across the badlands. It would be
folly to trust to forage on the journey; there were certain to be long barren stretches where the
grazing was inadequate.
Nor were mice the only new difficulty. Harness kept breaking, every second or third time an animal
was saddled or loaded. And the sky to the south was leaden, shot through by flickers of distant
lightning, indicating that a savage storm was brewing.
Murat was well aware of Karel's reputation, and had had no wish to make an enemy of such a
powerful magician. But, as he reflected in conversation with Carlo and Kristin, events had swept
him along, and there had really been no alternative.
His listeners slavishly agreed.
The rest of the day passed fairly uneventfully. During the following night, Vilkata as usual [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]