Read Online The Sword of Bheleu by Lawrence Watt-Evans - Free Book Online Page A

some pattern and the warbeasts tethered in a ring around the camp, to serve as the first line of defense.
    Kyrith and Galt emerged from the tent, and he put aside his thoughts. Galt blinked at the daylight; the sky was finally beginning to clear. “Greetings, Garth,” he said.
    â€œGreetings, Galt. What are you doing here? What is this so-called siege supposed to do?”
    â€œDon’t blame me for the siege; that was Kyrith’s idea, and I was overruled.”
    â€œWhat are you doing here in the first place?”
    â€œWe came to speak with the Baron of Skelleth. Kyrith didn’t believe that you had gone off on your own willingly; she thought that the Baron had you prisoner somewhere in Skelleth or had killed you, and she gathered these volunteers to come find you. The City Council sent me along. We had intended to ride into the village, confront the Baron, present our demands, and settle the matter on the spot, preferably by gracefully accepting his capitulation.”
    â€œYou needed sixty armed overmen for that?”
    â€œAs we both know, Garth, the Baron of Skelleth takes a great interest in military matters. Your disappearance gave us sufficient excuse for a show of force, which, it was felt, might serve to convince him where simple negotiation would not.”
    Galt’s smooth manner irritated Garth. He snapped, “It didn’t work?”
    â€œIt might have succeeded had the Baron met with us. Unfortunately, we were told, with much sincere regret, that he was sick in bed and could not see us. We did not care to force the issue then and there, but Kyrith was unwilling to do nothing; hence the siege.”
    â€œThe Baron refused to see you, and you simply left town?”
    â€œWe set up the siege.”
    â€œSiege! You call this farce a siege?”
    Galt shrugged, and Garth’s annoyance grew.
    â€œYou accepted the word of the humans that the Baron was ill? You did not insist upon seeing him?”
    â€œNo. The captain of the guard swore by half a dozen gods I never heard of and by various parts of his anatomy that the Baron was ill in bed. I spoke last night with the man called Saram, whom you know and whom I believe you trust, and he told me that the Baron’s illness is legitimate—a side-effect of his madness.”
    â€œDid it not occur to any of you that it would be far more effective to camp in the marketplace, where you could not be so easily ignored or put off, rather than to establish a siege you cannot possibly maintain? Furthermore, a single message slipped past your pitiful line of sentries could bring the wrath of the entire Kingdom of Eramma down on you and on the Northern Waste, since a siege is undeniably an act of war. Had you camped peacefully in the square, you would have been honest petitioners, breaking no laws.”
    Galt was slow to reply. “Such an audacious action did not occur to me.”
    â€œAudacious? The Baron of Skelleth is the audacious one! He dares to dictate terms to overmen as if we were mere peasants? To refuse your embassy an audience? It is time that we showed him the error of his ways. I propose that we march back into town; if he will still not speak with us, we will camp in the market until he does.”
    â€œI am not sure that would be wise. I did not approve of the siege, but I think that your plan faces the same objections. We dare not push the Baron too far; we need this trade with Skelleth.”
    â€œNo, we don’t. We can trade anywhere we please. The Racial Wars are over, Galt, whatever we may have believed while isolated in the Northern Waste, and regardless of what the Baron of Skelleth may have told us. I have just returned from a city called Dûsarra, where overmen are an everyday sight. The humans have forgotten their fear and hatred; remember how short their lives are! To them, three centuries are a dozen generations, almost five lifetimes.”
    â€œHow can overmen be a common