Lycanto gave an order and a man at arms hurriedly left the hall.
Cunobar the Gray now stood and held up a hand. The King nodded and the talk died away again.
Cunobar looked disdain at Blade, and his smile was something mingled of mirth and malice, leavened with the smugness of a man who has accomplished precisely what he intended. Blade, who had never counted the man as friend, and was puzzled by his seeming advocacy, began to understand. Cunobar was pleased with himself, and the why of it was plain enough. Cunobar wanted either Blade or Horsa dead. Or both. At the moment Blade could not fathom the reasons, nor did they matter. Cunobar could only win.
Cunobar nodded curtly in Blade's direction. "The stranger asks that I serve as companion at arms, as second to see fair play. This I cannot do. You will know the reasons, so I do not explain. I was right, I am right, in that he stands and talks like no slave I have ever seen. It is fair that he be given this chance. Yet there is no guarantee that he is a gentleman and I will serve no other. Yet he must have a companion at arms, to abide by our law. Who among you will serve him?"
Dead silence. None looked at Blade, who laughed and strode, arms akimbo, to the foot of the table. He did not force his laughter. He was genuinely amused and his deep voice tolled in the chamber like a dark toned bell.
"So be it! I see that you gentlemen are too fastidious to serve a ragged stranger. This speaks ill of your hospitality, of which you are so proud, but I will let it pass. By your leave, then, I will choose my own man. His name is Sylvo. He who stood watch over me in that miserable hut."
There was muttering, followed by questions among themselves.
"Sylvo? Who is he?"
"I have heard the name, and nothing good, but I cannot recall."
"Sylvo? I too have heard that name. Is he freeman or slave? Serf? Peasant?"
A thin-shanked man with a fringe of reddish hair stood up. He had a sour mouth that matched his expression.
"He is one of mine, this Sylvo. I wish he were not. He is a very cock pimp and a brawler, a drunkard and wencher, and as ugly as Thunor's ass. Yet he is brave enough, and fights well though he steals too much and were it not for this I would have hanged him long ago."
He looked at Blade. "If you would have such a rascal serve you I give my leave. Watch he does not steal your single pair of breeches."
There was a roar of laughter. Blade bowed in mockery to the assemblage. Lycanto made a sign and men of arms escorted him from the hall and back to the dismal hut.
As he was leaving Horsa shouted after him: "Count your cods, stranger. I vow you'll be short when you count them next in Thunor's dungeon."
Left alone, though he knew the hut well guarded, Blade paced impatiently until Sylvo appeared. The man was slightly tipsy, his mouth smeared with some whore's lip salve, but his beady little eyes were alive with intelligence and excitement.
"Ar, master! You have set them on their ears and every tongue in Sarum Vil to wagging. One thing is certain there will be a great crowd to see you die. None will want to miss it."
Blade regarded him with a cold stare. "I die? You are a prophet, then, as well as an ugly rogue?"
Sylvo stroked the hairs on his chin, the beer fast leaving him. He eyed Blade's massive frame with speculation. "Nay, master. I am no prophet. And now I think on it mayhap it is Horsa whose cods will end in the fire. I hope so, master, for I like you well I have forgiven you the blow, for I deserved it and I have no love for Horsa. He had me whipped once for not bowing low enough. Me, a freeman!"
Blade laughed and clapped a hand on the man's shoulder. "Then you will serve me in this?"
Sylvo fell to one knee. "I will serve you, master. Gladly. I am but a scurvy fellow, a sneaksby cull, and a slipgibbet. But for luck for sometimes Thunor favors rogues I would be hanged or flayed long since. Yet there is something about you, master a thing I do not understand that makes me feel like a man and as good as any. Ar, I will serve you well even though you have a fist like Thunor's lightning bolts."
Blade scowled at him. "Good. Then get off your knees. Never again do that. Speak always to me on eye level, and look straight at me. I am master, and you are man, yet I will be as fair with you as you with me. See to it. And now listen carefully hear what more I require of you and see if your courage still holds."
Blade spoke rapidly, firmly, nearly whispering, making sure that Sylvo understood every point. As the man listened, his squint increased and the harelip more pronounced as his jaw dropped. He took off his helmet and raked at a scurfy bald skull with filthy nails.
When Blade finished speaking Sylvo said: "Ar, master, you are determined on the death of both of us it will be flaying sure enough. Hanging if we are lucky. We cannot do it they will be after us like a pack of bitch hounds after a hare."
"I think not," Blade said coolly. "You forget after I kill Horsa I will have rank and status. They will be drinking and eating themselves into stupor. It may go easier than you think, Sylvo. Just be sure you do your part well. Now, once again, what is it you are to do?"
Sylvo grinned. "What I had often thought to do before, master, but lacked courage. I go to the house of Queen Alwyth, and I enter and find a likely wench to rape and and this part I do not like, master."
Blade frowned. "You will do it! You pretend to rape. Make no mistake there, Sylvo, or you will feel my hand again. You will merely pretend to rape this maid be sure she is a servant and you will perhaps tear her clothes a bit. Frighten her. Let her scream. The louder the better, for I want all the household to flock to her. You may hide your face if you choose. That is up to you."
Sylvo squinted horribly and his harelip twitched. "I will mask my beauty, master, never fear for that. The penalty for rape is boiling alive and I am no capon. But what if aught goes amiss? If the Lady Alwyth has drugged your lady perhaps she has hidden her well. I can linger for a few moments only, lest I am murdered by outraged females."
"I will be quick," Blade promised. "And I doubt that Lady Alwyth has hidden Taleen. She must keep to the story of the swooning sickness. I will get the lady and meet you at the stables. See to it the horses are ready."
Sylvo made the sign across his breast that Blade had noted before with Taleen. "Thunor protect us! Stealing horses is another crime on my conscience, and even worse it is punished by the chopping off of arms and legs, with the stumps then tarred and the trunk sewn into a pack of serpents. I am ugly enough now, master. If we fail "
Blade grinned. "On your conscience, Sylvo?"
The man grinned back. "A manner of speaking, master."
Two men of arms, accompanied by a sub-chief, entered the hut.
The sub-chief, ignoring Sylvo, spoke to Blade. "The fire ring is prepared, stranger. You will come with us to the armory to select your weapons. At once."
Blade indicated Sylvo. "He also. He serves for me."
"As you wish. Only hasten. Horsa is impatient."
As they were conducted through the dank, fog-wreathed night Blade whispered to Sylvo. "This man Horsa in what manner does he fight? What weapon will he use?"
"With a great bronze axe, master. He will have a shield, too, but since he always attacks he will not use it skillfully. But with the bronze axe he is a fiend. He calls his axe Aesculp smasher of skulls. Well named. It is long hafted and double bitted and I myself could not lift it. I doubt you can match him in axe play, master."
It so happened that Richard Blade, in his former persona, had been very proficient with a battle axe. Ancient weaponry, the study and use thereof, had been a serious hobby with him. He had been a member of the Medieval Club and, where other men boxed, or played tennis or handball to keep in shape, Blade spent many an afternoon in simulated combat with lance and broadsword, axe and mace, long bow and arbalest.