The Summer of the Swordsman

Chapter XXXIII

       

           Several days passed, and we sent a message to Praecas to come to Timras within three weeks. I arranged for a ship of the Timrasian navy to meet them in Hirstad and act as an escort. Mourner also sent a message to Lord Torkal alerting him to Praecas' leaving and requesting that His Lordship make certain that Praecas leave as instructed and not try to steal half the troop.

           We were wise to do that, because Petronius Praecas had apparently had something of the sort in mind. When the ship finally returned along with the three ships carrying the rest of our troop. the captain had Praecas in the hold in irons, and a note in his charge directed personally to Mourner from Lord Torkal. The contents of the note were very interesting and led to a late night conference between Praecas, Quinquius, Mourner, Anakreon and myself. A lot was said, and the upshot of the meeting was that Praecas left the troop taking with him a very generous allowance from our treasury and twenty men. He also carried a less permanent memento in the shape of the shiniest black eye I have ever bestowed on anyone.

** ** **

          No one missed Praecas, though there was some murmuring among the troop when he rode off in the direction of Parsia, but since the greatest part of administering his half of the troop in Blogg had fallen to Setnakht, the Egyptian archery officer, there wasn't much murmuring at all. In fact, had Praecas tried to spirit away half of the troop, there might have been quite a fight between them, and my money would have been on Setnakht.

** ** **

           We received confirmation of our contract with Archistratos of Hellas within three days of Praecas' departure. We would be sailing for Hellas in mid‑September, the end of the summer. That was two weeks away. Everyone seemed satisfied with the prospect of working for Archistratos, who enjoyed a worldwide reputation as a kindly and clement master.

          Mourner had said nothing during all the commotion of our preparations for departure. His punch to Prince Moryan's jaw had done nothing to injure the respect each felt for the other, but there was a certain distance, a coldness on Mourner's part, at least, as though he had been the one to close the door on a budding friendship between equals. And that was certainly a shame.

          I had a lot to do in that time, since Anakreon was letting me manage the troop myself and was merely keeping an eye on things, making official something that had been factual for some time. He was almost recovered from his wounds but still weak, and he spent long hours taking in the sun and the sea air with Admiral Jemail beside him. Those two formed a close friendship that has lasted the sixteen years to this day.

          And so the time passed pleasantly until, almost a month after my fight with Moryan, in the first week of September, I was walking along the sea wall and came upon Mourner standing alone.

          The weather was turning toward fall, with a new bite in the ocean winds that seemed to whisper of winter seas and cold gales. Even the shape of the clouds was different. Gone were the soft, puffy summer clouds and over us sailed cloud‑castles, gentled thunderheads looking like the battlements of a heavenly palace, splitting the sun's rays into shafts of gold.

          I revelled in the weather, in the feeling of change that awakened my wanderlust. It stirred within me that day as I strolled along the sea wall and gazed out over the ocean at distant islands and thought of Hellas and the years to come. Clouds were sailing overhead, and I watched them as I walked, and wished they were airborne ships and I on them. The time passed pleasantly until I came upon Mourner and paused.