Read Online The Grand Crusade by Michael A. Stackpole - Free Book Online

they were, featured bits of tack, odd animal skins, odder bones, and at least one vylaen head. At least, in the half-light, that’s what he made it out to be, but it could have been the head of a bear cub, albeit a strange one, with sharpened ears and a bone spur piercing the right one.
    Before he got too far, he felt an iron grip banding his left arm above the elbow. His right hand jerked toward the floor, and the hilt of a dagger he had sheathed on his forearm filled it. He turned to face the person who had grabbed him, using his body to shield the dagger from sight, should its sudden employment be needed.
    Resolute’s eyes half lidded. “The way you got the knife is good, but had I desired one in your kidney, you’d be thrashing on the floor right now.”
    “Following me, Resolute?”
    The Vorquelf shook his head, then waved his left hand at a small round table in a corner. Though the tavern was crowded, with men standing and crouching here and there, the round table had four stools available, and one half-drunk ale in a wooden tankard at the spot nearest the corner itself. “I have been here a while, but if you are going to be so careless, perhaps Ishouldbe following you.”
    “May I join you?”
    “Please.”
    Erlestoke waited for Resolute to take his place again, then took the seat to the Vorquelf’s right, which let him rest his back against a wall. He kept his voice low. “Why am I careless?”
    “Multiple reasons. Your blood makes you a target for those who thought you were dead and had planned accordingly.”
    The prince smiled and waved at a barmaid. He pointed to Resolute’s ale and she nodded. “You must be joking. Cabot Marsham is the only person who could dream of succeeding my father were my brother and I dead, and my father would never leave the kingdom in his hands. Moreover, the man would not dare strike at me.”
    “No, but those who back him might. You know he is weak and can be manipulated. If he were not, your father would not keep him on. While here, Marsham has met with representatives of various noble houses. Those who covet power might have been planning your father’s downfall, and your presence means their puppet would no longer be center stage.”
    The Vorquelf frowned at him. “Why are you looking at me strangely?”
    Erlestoke sat back and cleared his throat as the barmaid set his ale down. He tossed her a silver coin and she snatched it up quickly. He sipped the ale, then understood why so little of Resolute’s had been drunk.
    “I guess what surprises me, Resolute, is your interest in Oriosan politics. Your
    history being what it is, I’d not thought you interested in much more than your homeland’s liberation.“
    Resolute’s face sank into a grimace and he drank some ale. That did nothing to lighten his expression. He glanced at the prince and nodded. “There was a time, Highness, when this was true, but the sword I wear has changed that. Will gave it to me. It is an ancient elven blade named Syverce. It comes from a homeland that no longer exists and is a blade of great consequence. Because it accepts me I know I have a greater duty than just the liberation of my homeland. The scourge that is Chytrine must be ended, and having you writhing in a pool of blood with an assassin’s knife in your back will be a great comfort to the enemy.” The Oriosan marveled that Resolute’s broad shoulders remained square despite the obvious pressure he felt himself under. “It’s not really Oriosan assassins you are worried about, is it? Do you think Chytrine has agents here?”
    “Iknowshe has agents here. So does everyone else.” Resolute laughed wryly and swung his head to survey the crowd. “There are men here who would sell their children for the coppers off a dead man’s eyes, so taking foreign gold in exchange for information is nothing. They do not worry me as much, though, as
    the ordinary folks.“
    Erlestoke looked around. He saw nothing unusual in the tavern’s clientele. They might be a bit rough around the