Slathbog's Gold - Forman Mark L (читать книгу онлайн бесплатно без .TXT) 📗

“Are you all right, Alex?” asked Arconn, standing at a distance. “Is the heat leaving you?”

“Yes,” replied Alex, suddenly feeling tired and weak. “What . . . what happened to me?”

“It is the sword,” said Arconn, stepping a little closer. “Its power entered you, its master.”

Alex didn’t reply but looked down at the sword in his hand. The sword’s edges gleamed bright blue, as if tiny flames raced up and down the blade. It looked beautiful in the darkness, and Alex felt a surge of fierce pride that Moon Slayer was his sword.

“You didn’t tell me this would happen,” said Alex, his eyes turning to Arconn. “I mean, having the power of the sword enter me.”

“I wasn’t sure it would,” replied Arconn with a slight smile. “I have heard stories, but I have never seen it happen. At least, not until tonight.”

“We all saw it,” said Andy, coming up beside Alex. “It was amazing. If I hadn’t seen it myself, I’d never have believed it.”

“What did you all see?” Alex asked, fear growing inside of him.

“A strange, pale light,” Bregnest replied softly, watching Alex closely, a look of wonder on his face. “Like you were glowing. Not like a lamp, but like a beam of moonlight in the

darkness.”

“Indeed he was,” said Thrang, looking from Alex to Bregnest. “I’ve heard stories too, but never thought I’d see something like this.”

“What does it mean?” Alex asked in a troubled voice.

“The fire of a great warrior was lit inside of you this night,” replied Arconn. “The sword has chosen its true master, and now we all know why the sword was named Moon Slayer.”

“But I’m not a great warrior,” Alex protested.

“Tell that to the bandits,” said Skeld with a grim laugh.

Alex looked at the ground in surprise. Around him lay the bodies of the bandits he had killed. A spark of fear ran through him as he realized what he had done. Without thinking, he had rushed into the charging bandits and killed them. How many had he killed? He wasn’t sure.

What troubled Alex most was that now that the battle was over, he felt nothing toward the dead bandits. He had simply done what he had to do. There were no feelings of guilt or sorrow or even happiness. There was only the knowledge that he’d done what had to be done—he’d killed the enemy. The whole battle seemed like some half-forgotten dream.

“This can’t be,” said Alex, looking at his companions helplessly.

“It is,” said Arconn in a kindly voice. “It is part of what you are. You cannot change what you are any more than you can change the sun or the sky. You can only accept it, and learn to use your gifts wisely.”

Alex took a deep breath and let out a sigh. He knew Arconn was right and that the warrior inside him was a part of his true self.

“What now?” Alex asked, wiping Moon Slayer on the grass and returning it to his side.

“We’ll wait for daylight,” said Bregnest. “Then we’ll search the bandits for anything of value.”

“Isn’t that stealing?” Alex asked with a weak smile.

“They’re dead,” Skeld laughed. “And they are bandits.”

Alex knew the bandits would have killed them and stolen their things if they could have. He also knew from reading the Adventurer’s Handbookthat bandits fell into the same group of evil creatures as goblins and trolls. It wasn’t stealing, but Alex didn’t like the idea of searching the dead bodies.

Thrang relit their campfire and they gathered around the flames to wait for dawn. Thrang cooked breakfast, muttering to himself about Alex’s moonlight glow. He seemed amused by the evening’s events, even if Alex wasn’t. When the eastern sky started to grow light, Skeld and Halfdan rode off in search of the bandits’ horses.

The darkness slowly changed to a dull gray as the sun came up behind the clouds. The air smelled like rain as Alex and his companions returned to the dead bandits. Alex wished it would rain and wash away the smell of death and the color of blood. He felt strange, going through the pockets of the dead bandits, but the others didn’t seem to mind at all. They placed everything of value they found, including weapons, near their fire pit. Then they piled the dead bandits downwind from their camp.

“Slim pickings,” commented Thrang, tossing a bandit onto the pile. “Bandits never have much of value.”

“Then why bother?” Alex asked, struggling to drag a body to the pile himself.

“You never know,” replied Thrang, helping Alex toss the dead bandit onto the pile. “You might find something wonderful from time to time. Besides, every little bit helps to build the fortune.”

Once they had piled the bodies, they gathered wood and put it on top of the stack. Thrang ignited the piled wood with his infernocommand, standing back to watch as the flames spread. Alex watched with Thrang as the fire consumed the dead men, and then he turned and walked back to the campfire. He tried not to think about the bandits burning a short distance away, but it was difficult not to. It was one thing to kill a troll and have it turn to stone, but this was something else.

“Not much,” said Bregnest, separating the small pile of treasure into eight smaller piles. “Though the horses will bring a fair price in Techen.”

“Techen?” Alex questioned.

“A small city, four or five days’ ride from here,” Bregnest answered. “I hadn’t planned to stop there, but if we have horses to sell, it will be worth it.”

“And we might be able to get some information about Varlo and the lands around it,” added Thrang.

“Varlo is the resting place of Slathbog,” explained Arconn before Alex could ask. “It was an ancient city, and very rich. Which is why the dragon came there, of course.”

“How much do we know about Varlo?” Alex asked.

“Little more than what Arconn has just said,” Thrang replied. “We do know there was a great castle, its foundation set deep in the mountain’s side.”

“And deep in the mountain is where the worm will be hidden,” said Tayo in a grim tone. “He’s not likely to leave his hoard above ground.”

Alex knew almost nothing about dragons and what they would or would not be likely to do. The Adventurer’s Handbooksaid little about dragons and nothing about Slathbog. He wondered how much more his companions could tell him about dragons, certain he would need all the information he could get before facing Slathbog.

Skeld and Halfdan returned with a string of twenty horses. The horses looked well cared for, which surprised Alex. He thought they would be unhealthy and uncared-for creatures, judging by what he’d seen of the bandits who had been riding them.

“We found these easily enough,” said Skeld with his normal smile. “The others have run further than we cared to

follow.”

“Anything in the saddlebags?” questioned Thrang.

“We haven’t looked,” Halfdan replied, glancing back at the horses. “Thought it best to come back with these than wait around for an arrow in the back.”

“You mean there are more bandits out there?” Alex asked in a concerned tone.

“If there are, they are few,” Bregnest replied. “And after last night’s events, they’ll stay well clear of us.”

Skeld and Halfdan dismounted and began taking the saddlebags off the captured horses. To Thrang’s delight, the contents of the saddlebags more than tripled the amount of treasure they had to divide. Alex hesitated, thinking that the bandits were men after all and not monsters.

“Don’t trouble yourself over them,” said Tayo, watching Alex’s face. “Once a man becomes a bandit, he is no longer truly a man.”

“I don’t understand,” said Alex.

“They become wild and cruel,” said Thrang, taking notice of the discussion. “Bandits don’t care about nothing but stealing and killing. In most lands there’s a bounty on them. They’re nothing more than a plague to all people.”