'Please, don't kill us!' Belingen whined. 'We're poor men! We have no ransom to pay!'
'Be silent!' The tusked face circled the room, studying each man in turn. 'Which of you is the one the girl calls
Ironskin?'
No one said anything. Merinsaard drew a dagger and tapped the flat of the blade against his palm. He circled around, stopping by Belingen. He pushed the tip of his dag ger against Belingen's chest. 'There is a simple way to find out which of you wears mail,' he said.'.I shall run this dag ger through each of your chests.' Merinsaard leaned on the dagger. Belingen inhaled sharply.
'No! Don't do it! I'll tell!'
'Shut your mouth, fool!' Onthar yelled. Merinsaard went to the herd leader and struck him on the head with the butt of his dagger. Onthar slumped forward.
'The next man to speak will die,' said Merinsaard.
'Except you, my friend.' Belingen managed a sweaty smile.
'It's him, the mustached one. Yes, him!' Sturm stared at the floor. Merinsaard's thigh-high boots moved into his line of sight. The lord called for his guards, and a squad of hal berdiers cut Sturm loose from the post.
'That man, too,' Merinsaard said, indicating Belingen.
The guards marched Sturm and Belingen through the court yard.
'Where's Tervy?' Sturm said at last.
'She is safe,' the great lord said. 'I have not harmed her.'
'You can kill her, my lord; she's only a raider brat,'
Belingen said. Sturm shot him a fierce look.
Without sparing him a glance, Merinsaard replied, 'She has considerable wit and courage, which is more than I can say for you.'
They entered the rear of the same room they'd fought in an unknown time before. Tervy was sitting on the rug in front of the table. She saw Sturm and jumped to her feet. A clank announced that she was fettered to a table leg.
'Ironskin! I knew you'd come for me!' she said.
'Things are not so simple,' said Merinsaard. The guards brought Sturm and Belingen in and forced them to kneel before the great lord's gold-decked table. The soldiers stood at their backs with halberds leveled, and Merinsaard sat in his chair.
'There is a problem,' he said, removing his dragon mask.
'Among a group of simple herdsmen I find a young stal wart, a swordsman and warrior, who wears mail and rides a
Garnet-bred warhorse. Now I ask, why would such a man be here tending cows?'
'It's a living,' said Sturm sullenly.
'I know who he is, master,' said Belingen.
Merinsaard leaned forward on his elbows. 'Yes?'
'His name is Sturm Brightblade. He's a knight.'
The great lord didn't blink. 'How do you know this?'
'I heard him tell his name was Brightblade. And I remem bered that name from my younger days when I helped sack his father's castle.'
Sturm leaped up. 'You did what?' A guard struck him smartly on the back of his knees, and Sturm collapsed on the carpet.
'I see. Is there anything else you can tell me?'
'He's looking for his father, but his father's dead. I was with the band that breached the inner keep. We set fire to it, and all the knights threw themselves from the battlement rather than burn up.' Sturm's face paled and Belingen grinned. 'They was scared of a little fire.'
'Thank you, ah, what is your name?'
'Belingen, master. Your devoted slave.'
'Yes.' Merinsaard nodded and the soldier standing behind
Belingen raised his halberd. Down went the axe blade, and off came Belingen's astonished head. It rolled to Tervy's feet, and she kicked it away, spitting, 'Chu'yest!' Sturm needed no translation. He grimaced at the severed head with regret and disgust. Belingen might have been a worthless fool, but he might also have had further information about Sturm's father.
'Remove the debris,' declared Merinsaard. Two soldiers dragged the body out by the heels. 'A man so easily per suaded to betray his comrades is of no use to anyone,' said
Merinsaard. He stood. 'So you are Sturm Brightblade, of the House of Brightblade?'
'I am,' he said defiantly.
Merinsaard signaled again, and a stool was brought in for
Sturm to sit on. The soldiers withdrew, leaving Sturm and
Tervy with the great lord.
'I would very much like for you to join my company of men,' said Merinsaard. 'I can use a young, trained warrior like you. Too many of the scum I pick up are no better than the fool I just shortened by a head.' He folded his hands across his flat stomach and looked Sturm in the eye. 'In a very short time, you could have your own command of picked troops, cavalry or infantry. What' do you say?'
The blood was still fresh on the floor, so Sturm consid ered his reply. 'I have never worked as a mercenary before,' he said equivocally. He pointed to Tervy and said, 'Will you release the girl?'
'If she behaves.' Merinsaard placed a key on the table.
Sturm picked it up and unlocked the fetter that enclosed Ter vy's slender ankle.
'Before I commit myself, may I ask a question?' said
Sturm. Merinsaard inclined his head affirmatively. 'In this army, to whom would I be responsible?'
'To me and no one else.'
'And from whom do you take your orders?'
'I am supreme,' rumbled Merinsaard.
Sturm glanced at Tervy. The chain lay by her foot. She ran a hand over the crudely forged iron fetter. 'I don't believe you,' Sturm said, calmly.
Merinsaard bolted to his feet. 'You question me?' he roared.
'Supreme commanders do not sit in lonely keeps, confis cating cattle like skulking freebooters,' said Sturm.
Rage purpled the great lord's face. Sturm wondered if he'd gone too far. In his next breath, would Merinsaard order both their deaths? No, the color slowly left his face, and
Merinsaard leaned on the table.
'You are wise for a young man,' he said at last. 'I have been given the task of collecting food and arms for a great host that will invade northern Ansalon soon. It is a task I undertake with total devotion. As to my leader, she — ' He paused, conscious of revealing an important fact. '- she leaves all the handling of mundane affairs to me.'
'I see,' Sturm said. What now? 'Ah, what would be the terms of my service?'
'Terms? I cannot offer you a contract, if that is what you mean. But know this, Master Brightblade, join with us and all manner of power and glory shall be yours. You will com mand and conquer. Among men you will be as a king.'
Merinsaard sat down. Sturm looked to Tervy, which put his face away from the warlord's. Their eyes met. Tervy gave a very slight nod.
Merinsaard looked expectant, so Sturm said, 'This is my answer…' The great lord leaned forward. 'Now!'
Tervy stood and pulled the chain as hard as she could.
The folding table leg popped loose and the heavy tabletop collapsed on Merinsaard's legs. Sturm sprang over the fallen table, knocking Merinsaard down and pinning his hands.
There would be no blinding incantation this time.
Tervy grabbed the shiny helmet from the floor and scam pered behind the struggling men. She whacked
