A Man Rides Through Read Free

prefer to live, but nothing of importance will be lost if I am killed. This catapult will still be destroyed. Every catapult which you presume to aim against us will be destroyed. As I say, King Joyse has no interest in your death. If you insist on dying, however, he will not prohibit you.
     
    "The risk to my life is your assurance that I speak the truth."
     
    "Fascinating," drawled the Prince. "From this distance, you will destroy my siege engines? What new horror has the Congery devised, that you are now able to project destruction so far from your glass?"
     
    The Master didn't answer that question. "Withdraw or not, as you choose," he said. "Kill me or not." The twitching of his nose was unmistakably rabbitlike. "But do not make the error of believing that you will be permitted to enter or occupy Orison. Rather than surrender his Seat and his strength, King Joyse will allow you to be crushed between the hammer of Cadwal and the anvil of the Congery."
     
    The lady Elega couldn't restrain herself. "Quillon, this is madness." Her protest sounded at once angry and forlorn. "You are a minor Imager, a lesser member of the Congery. You admit that your life has no importance. Yet you dare threaten the Alend Monarch and his son. How have you gained such stature, that you claim to speak with my father's voice?"
     
    For the first time, Master Quillon looked at her. Suddenly, his face knotted, and an incongruous note of ferocity sharpened his tone. "My lady, I have been given my stature by the King's command. I am the mediator of the Congery." Without moving, he confronted her as if he had abruptly become taller. "Unlike his daughter, I have not betrayed him."
     
    Loyal to their Prince, the Alend soldiers tensed; a number of them put their hands on their swords.
     
    But Elega met the Master's reply squarely. She had a King's daughter's pride, as well as a King's daughter's commitment to what she was doing. "That is unjust," she snapped. "He has betrayed all Mordant. You cannot be blind to the truth. You cannot—"
     
    Deliberately, Master Quillon turned away as if she had ceased to exist for him.
     
    Unheeded, her protest trailed into silence. In the chill spring wind she looked like she might weep.
     
    With difficulty, Prince Kragen checked his anger. The Master's attitude infuriated him because he understood it too well. Nevertheless he resisted the impulse to have Quillon struck down. Instead, he murmured through his teeth, "You risk more than you realize, Master Quillon. Perhaps you do not consider death to be of great importance, but I assure you that you will attach more significance to pain."
     
    At that, Elega's head jerked, and her gaze widened, as if she were shocked. The Prince and the Imager faced each other, however, ignoring her reaction.
     
    Master Quillon's eyes flicked; his nose twitched. He might have been on the verge of panic. But his tone contradicted that impression. It cut fearlessly.
     
    "Is that your answer to what you do not understand, my lord Prince? Torture? Or do you inflict pain for the simple pleasure of it? Be warned again, son of the Alend Monarch, you are being tested here, as surely as you were tested in Orison, at the hop-board table— and elsewhere. I do not advise you to prove unworthy."
     
    Without Prince Kragen's permission, Quillon left. He mounted his horse awkwardly, gathered up the reins. He was surrounded by Alends; yet when he pulled his mount's head toward Orison the soldiers seemed to open a path for him involuntarily, without instructions from their captain or their Prince, as if they were ruled by the Imager's peculiar dignity.
     
    Looking slightly ridiculous—or perhaps valiant—on his big horse, he rode back the way he had come. In a short time, he rounded the corner of Orison and disappeared from sight.
     
    Kragen chewed his lips under his moustache as he turned to the lady. You are being tested here — He would have asked, What was the meaning of that? but the