Sebastian Darke: Prince of Fools Read Free Page A

of black bread to his mouth and took an exploratory bite. It was like eating hot sawdust. He forced his jaws to munch, having to work very hard to swallow down mouthfuls of the stuff. He was happy to wash it down with elvish coffee, one of the few luxuries they had brought with them, and by this method, he some?how managed to consume the rest of it. He found that the paltry meal had taken some of the dull ache out of his stomach but had done absolutely nothing to pacify his hunger. He gazed hopelessly around, but the moon was obscured by tumbled banks of rolling clouds and he couldn't see very far beyond the flickering light of the fire. Not that there was much to see anyway, just the endless plain rolling onwards to some unknown world. 'What I wouldn't give for a hunk of hot meat right now,' he said.
     
'Well, you needn't look at me,' Max chastised him. 'Actually, we buffalopes make very poor eating.'
     
'That's not what I've heard,' said Sebastian, casting a sly look at him. 'As I understand it, buffalope meat is one of the favourite ingredients on any Brigand's menu.'
     
'Really?' Max cast a nervous glance over his shoulder. T suppose I shouldn't be surprised. From what I've heard, they're little more than animals. I've been told that when times are hard, they've even been known to resort to cannibalism.'
     
Now it was Sebastian's turn to be nervous. 'We . . . er . . . probably won't encounter any this far north,' he said. 'Still – just in case.' He stroked the scabbard of the big curved sword that lay beside him. That too had been his father's. Alexander had been a fine swordsman and had spent many an after?noon trying to pass on his skills to his son. Sebastian remembered the long hours spent sparring with him, until the sweat spilled from every pore. Alexander had been a stern teacher and thought nothing of making Sebastian go over every move again and again, until his hands were blistered.
     
Max looked down at the sword doubtfully. 'What do you suppose you'll do with that if some villain comes calling?'
     
'Well, I'll . . . brandish it and . . . I know how to use a sword!' he said. 'My father taught me well.'
     
'That I do not doubt. But knowing how to swing a sword and being ready to smite somebody's head from their shoulders, without a moment's hesitation – that's a different matter.'
     
Sebastian flung a broken branch into the fire, sending up a great shower of sparks into the night sky. 'You're always getting at me,' he complained. 'If it's not my jokes, it's my complete inability to measure up to my father in anything I do. I wish you—'
     
Sebastian broke off abruptly as a distant sound rose and fell on the air – a long, drawn-out howl that seemed to echo eerily in the night.
     
'What was that?' asked Max fearfully.
     
'Oh, just a luper,' said Sebastian, trying to sound casual. 'They aren't a problem unless they're hunting in a pack.'
     
As if in answer to his statement, more howls sounded in response to the first. Sebastian counted at least six or seven different tones.
     
'Probably miles away,' he added, attempting to keep the note of desperation out of his voice. He tried to smile encouragingly at Max, but he could see a familiar expression in the buffalope's eyes. A look of apprehension.
     
'I've heard stories about lupers,' said Max uneasily. 'A pack of those things can strip a fully grown buffalope down to the bones in just a few moments.'
     
'You shouldn't believe everything you hear,' Sebastian chided him. 'It would take half the night to do that.'
     
'Oh, now I feel better,' said Max.
     
'And besides, you can tell by listening to them – they're not hungry.'
     
'Really?'
     
'Really. A hungry luper makes a particular sound. Sort of like a—'
     
Sebastian stopped talking. He had just heard something different. A rustling sound. His stomach seemed to fill suddenly with cold water.
     
'There's something behind us!' whispered Max. 'In the bushes!'
     
'I know!' Sebastian mouthed