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

home.”
    Walking on, Seg reflected that Milsi knew much and spoke warmly of ships. Here, in the midst of a jungle with a river, a great river, to be sure, as her only source of information? She could have learned this from books. But, from the way she spoke, Seg was convinced she had seen what she so vividly described, had seen the armadas of sail ploughing the shining seas, venturing to the corners of the world, sailing home again, argosies of treasure.
    If his honorable intentions toward her were ever to be realized there was much, a very great deal, he must learn about her history. Then he laughed to himself in his old reckless raffish way. By the Veiled Froyvil! What did her history matter to him? He would do what he would do, and play his part manfully, and if Erthyr the Bow smiled on him he would win what his heart desired.

Chapter six
Milsi causes more aggravation
    They reached the Kazzchun River in good order and turned north along the bank. The brown water slid past and upon its still amiable flow the keels of commerce passed up and down. There were still plenty of sails to be seen, for Milsi said the head of navigation lay far upriver, and beyond that the paddle driven barks penetrated for many more dwaburs yet.
     
    They entered the first township with due caution, although Milsi insisted that strangers would receive the need that was their due.
    “A hulking great Bowman warrior, and two dinkus from the forest may attract unwelcome attention,” she said, with that tiny dint between her delectable eyebrows. “But a few cheerful words, and perhaps a small offering to the local godling in his temple, should smooth the way.”
    “I trust so,” said Seg. “Although the local godling’s temple I am most in need of is to be found in the nearest tavern.”
    “I shall begin to believe you are a drunkard, Seg Segutorio!”
    “Not so, my lady. Just that a fellow needs to wash away the dust from his throat from time to time.”
    “We shall see.”
    The place was called Lasindle, small and rundown, with wooden airy houses roofed with the leaves of papishin that were commonly used for this purpose in many parts of Kregen. Neither Seg nor Milsi felt any surprise that places in the world separated by vast distances should grow the same kinds of plants and harbor the same kinds of animals. That was perfectly natural to them. There were plenty of strange and weird plants and animals to be found inhabiting selected portions of the world to make those found universally to pass without comment.
    The local godling was a fish-tailed lady called Kazzchun-faril and her temple lifted above the houses, and its walls were of wood lavishly carved and decorated. The papishin-leaved roof covered a goodly area of cells and secret places. Milsi and the others went into the outer court and the sight of two gold croxes made the priestess’s eyes light up with avarice.
    “May the great and glorious fishiness of Kazzchun-faril light upon you and your hooks never be drawn empty,” intoned a lady in a swathing robe of fish-scales, and tawdry bangles. “Go with the goddess’s blessing.”
    So, with that out of the way, they went across the muddy square to The Hook and Net. Here a few copper coins produced the local brew. Without proper corn or vines, the locals produced their liquor from the bounty of the forest. Seg sipped. He made a face.
    “I judge Diomb and Bamba will never touch a drop of the good stuff if this ruins their palates,” he said.
    Diomb sipped, spluttered and looked affronted.
    Bamba sipped, sipped again, looked at Milsi, smiled, and finished the jug.
    “H’m, young lady. I shall not carry you to bed.”
    The delights of roast ponsho were available, for meat animals were carried downstream from the enormous pastures farther north. Momolams, those small, yellow tubers of the delicious taste, complemented roast ponsho. Also, there were local dishes, mostly of fish cooked in an amazing variety of ways. The bread, baked