Read Online A Time of Omens by Katharine Kerr - Free Book Online Page B

look like cold death. The prank ended well enough.”
    Branoic only shrugged for an answer. He could never explain that what was eating his heart was Maddyn’s scorn. The bard himself had run over to the stable doors and waspeering out the crack between them; with an oath he came trotting back.
    “Nevyn, take two of these horses and get Maryn out of here. When we rode in I saw a back gate over near those trees. Branoic, you come with me. We’ve got to Und Aethan. I don’t like the look of that crowd.”
    Much later it occurred to Branoic that he should have told Maddyn the truth right there and then, but at the time he was quite simply so miserable, wallowing in shame and the bard’s disgust, that he was sure that Maddyn would think him a coward if he didn’t go back. Outside, they found about thirty people of both sexes milling around and talking at the top of their lungs. Quite a few people were laughing, actually—one could guess that they’d all been elsewhere when the walls started going down—and promising to spread this magnificent jest around town, much to the rage of those caught in Branoic’s unintentional trap.
    “I think that’s Aethan over by the tavern-room door,” Maddyn whispered. “You’re taller—can you see?”
    Branoic raised himself up on the balls of his feet and shaded his eyes against the lantern light with one hand.
    “It is.” He started waving. “Good, he’s seen me.”
    Unfortunately so had the burly fellow from the next cubicle. Fully dressed now and howling like a banshee he came shoving his way through the crowd.
    “You! You’re the little prick that started this whole cursed thing!”
    His mouth half-open in surprise, Maddyn turned around to stare at Branoic, who felt as inarticulate as the ensorcelled prince.
    “My apologies, I didn’t mean—”
    “You were trying to watch, you bloody little debaucher! I’ll grind your head on the cobbles for this! I’ll—”
    Just at that moment Aethan and another two men from the Black Sword troop reached them. Behind them Branoic could see a gaggle of silver daggers and a bunch of black swords rushing forward, too, while all the other men round started taking sides. The experienced and politic women drew back to give them plenty of room as Branoic’s victim threw a punch right at his head. Profoundly relieved that the matter wasn’t going to swordplay, Branoic punched right back and connected with the fellow’s jaw.Women screamed; the fellow went down, out cold; somewhere the old crone was shrieking for the town wardens. He could hear Maddyn shouting and Aethan howling as the rain-washed and slippery tavern yard exploded into a brawl.
    In that kind of press it was hard to see who was enemy and who friend, especially as men kept slipping and falling into the mud and clambering back up to fight some more. Branoic squared off with a squint-eyed brown-haired fellow, slammed him once in the stomach and once on the jaw, nearly fell over him as he fell, dodged free and dodged a thrown tankard, paused to catch his breath on the edge of things only to have someone rush straight at him. He grabbed the fellow by one arm, swung him around, and flung him back into the heaving shouting mob, which reminded him at that moment of a bowl of yeast working and bubbling over. Just as he started back in, someone grabbed him from behind. He swung around only to pull his punch barely in time: Aethan.
    “Come on, lad—they don’t even remember why they’re fighting. Hurry!”
    “I was just starting to enjoy myself!”
    “Come along and now! You won’t be enjoying yourself if the captain decides to take the skin off your back, will you?”
    Without another word Branoic followed him into the shadows by the open back gate, where Maddyn was riding one horse and holding the reins of two others. Out on the riverbank he could see the rest of the silver daggers, mounted and ready to ride.
    “No one can beat a silver dagger when it comes to ducking the