Read Online Seg the Bowman by Alan Burt Akers - Free Book Online

up there off the north coast of the main island. Valka? There was a ring in the name, a faint memory of hearing it, spoken in great passion by her father. But the memory would not coalesce.
    Around almost all the coasts of Kregen the islands clustered as thickly as bubbles on the surface of boiling milk. There were far too many for all to be recalled at will.
    “You were saying?”
    “Oh, yes. Valin will never be Valin Valintorio unless he gains great renown, is recognized, can persuade the elders and the secret ones to grant him the torio. Then he will have a family, and lands, and may call himself Valin Valintorio. I look forward to the day.”
    “And the name Seg will go on through the main line?”
    “Just so.”
     
    “With us it is different.” Then she stopped and bit her lip. “I mean, well, here the male line is recognized only if the female line is in accord.”
    “That means, exactly?”
    “Well, Seg, to give the example that has exercised the minds of everyone in Croxdrin lately. The king, Crox, lost his wife and entire family in a dreadful accident. It was through his wife that his legal entitlement to the crown was established.”
    “So he had to look around for the next legal heir?”
    “It has been known in the past for fathers to marry their daughters to secure the throne — in name only, I hasten to add. So—”
    “Oh, I see. I heard that this poor Queen Mab whom you served was married to the king and he departed in the same hour to this fateful expedition into the Coup Blag. Then Queen Mab followed — she must have loved him, then, although I was told the marriage was political only.”
    “It was only political! There was no love there, only a dreadful acceptance of fate.”
    “Well, you should know, you were her lady in waiting.”
    “Yes.”
    “Diomb and Bamba have stopped frisking about and are looking expectant. It is time we moved on.”
    Then she surprised him.
    “Time is a terrible thing, Seg the Horkandur! I could almost wish this journey, which now is far more pleasant than when we began, could go on forever.”
    “But you want to get home to Mewsansmot!”
    “I do, I do. And yet...”
    “Come on, you two!” called Bamba. “Diomb is quite impatient in this as in other refined things.”
    “Coming.”
    Their route to skirt the marshes lay northwest, north, northeast and then, just to make sure, they curved down a little and struck along east-northeast.
    “And, my fine young friends,” quoth Seg, lustily, striding along. “At the first decent hostelry we run across, I shall treat you to roast vosk, momolams, squish pie, and a heaping dish of palines. And there will be ale, and wine — believe you me!”
    “We had best, perhaps,” said Milsi, most anxiously, “be very wary regarding ale and wine for Bamba and Diomb.”
    “Naturally. But they’ll down their jugs with the best in no time, you will see.”
    “We have strange stories about the dinkus from the forest. We must take care.”
    “If anyone offers insult to our friends, Milsi—”
    “You, Seg Segutorio the Horkandur, had best stay out of stupid arguments until we—”
     
    “Assuredly, my lady,” and Seg bowed a deep and most ironical bow.
    “Oh, you!” flared Milsi, the color rising.
    Seg could well understand what Milsi meant when she said she wished this journey could go on forever.
    The forest had now become far less hostile, the Snarly Hills dwaburs to the rear. There were few habitations, as most of the villages and towns were located along the river; but there were villages within the forest. The slavers operated here, and that made life terrible. But for the adventurers marching through the forest, eyes and ears alert, the dangers were by now a part of life, accepted by the two apims in the same spirit as the two dinkus.
    The air breathed less oppressively. There was food aplenty, and water — boiled to drink. The life made men and women hardy and inured to hardship. And yet, surely, to a lady