Read Online Against the Giants by Ru Emerson - (ebook by Flandrel, Undead) - Free Book Online

into knee-high boots. Black leather gauntlets covered his arms halfway to
the elbow. The pommels of his daggers and the basket hilts of his matched swords
were gold-washed, as were the daggers thrust into his belt and his boots. “Arkon
the Adamant is here to seek one Vlandar, who has need of my ser—” His voice
cracked.
    Vlandar bent down to adjust one of his boots and hide a grin,
but a splutter of laughter escaped Malowan. The young man snarled a particularly
filthy curse and whipped both swords out, revealing wavy zhosh blades.
    Vlandar sighed heavily and got up to intercept him. “I am
Vlandar,” he said as he began to ease the young man back outside, “and captain
of these barracks. This is no place to provoke a fight.”
    Malowan suddenly and quietly slipped onto the cot next to
Lhors. “Aaaaugh,” the paladin mumbled. “It was too much to hope the young fool
wouldn’t have heard about this.”
    Lhors blinked. “But all those blades,” he whispered, “and a
bow and javelins! He must really be good. Isn’t that what you want?”
    Malowan nodded. “If he was a tenth of what he appears to be,
yes. He’s not, though. Oh, he’s good enough with the swords. You’d be impressed,
if you saw him in a duel against a pack of drunken thugs. His mothers paid for
his dueling masters since he was a boy. She’s the one who sees he has fancy
clothes and expensive weapons, and she’s noble. Few men of the noble or common
rank would risk offending her by injuring her precious boy.”
    Lhors eyed Arkon the Adamant, who now stood arguing with
Vlandar. Full sun fell on a face that might be considered handsome.
    “If I were a swordsman,” Lhors ventured cautiously, “I would
not wear sleeves like that. My opponent’s blade might catch in them.”
    “You remember what Vlandar’s been telling you,” Malowan said
warmly. “Good lad. What else?”
    “He looks very wealthy. That’s foolish, unless you want to
attract thieves.” Lhors sighed. “And he was rude to the rangers. That wasn’t
necessary.”
    “He is wealthy, or his widowed mother is. She buys anything
he asks for, and when he gets into trouble with his shiny toys, she blames his
companions who must have led him astray. He picks his fights carefully and never
fights anyone better than he.”
    “He’s not a hero?” Lhors asked.
    Malowan nodded. “He’s a fraud and not even named Arkon. His
real name is Plowys, after his mother’s brother.”
    A sharp, angry curse brought the paladin around, hands out.
The young noble had come back in, unnoticed by either Lhors or Malowan.
    “Your pardon, young Arkon,” the paladin said smoothly. “I was
not aware you were eavesdropping.”
    “If you mean to imply that I was sneaking about, listening to
your gossip…” the youth said angrily.
    “I imply nothing,” Malowan said evenly as Vlandar came back
into the barracks, where he could step between them. “I merely wonder that your
mother Plovenia would allow you to go twenty paces beyond the city gates in any
company whatever. I doubt her purse strings or her apron strings stretch so
far.”
    “You insult my lady mother?” Plowys demanded.
    “No,” Malowan replied evenly, “I insult you, and you know
why, young Plowys. A young companion of my ward is dead because you challenged
him. Remember Vesisk? He was a street lad, a boy with no weapons skill at all,
and you challenged him to a battle and killed him. One day, your mother will no
longer be able to buy your way out of such situations.”
    Plowys—or Arkon—swore under his breath and freed a dagger.
Lhors gasped as the man stalked forward, but the paladin made no effort to
defend himself. As the fancy-clad young man brought the blade up, it seemed to
slam into an invisible barrier and bounce back. Plowys yelped as the dagger went
flying.
    “You should know better than to try to harm a paladin,”
Vlandar told him. “He has his own protection. Fortunately, he’s not in the