Sebastian Darke: Prince of Fools Read Free Page B

back at him. He reached out a hand to the hilt of his sword and began to slide it gently out of its scabbard. Now he could distinguish another sound mingled with the rustling: the dull, metallic clanking of armour.
     
'Oh, mercy!' whimpered Max. 'It's Brigands! They'll murder you and have me for dinner!' He thought for a moment. 'From what you've been saying, they might even have you for dinner!'
     
'Quiet!' hissed Sebastian. 'I'm trying to—'
     
'Who goes there?' bellowed a deep voice from the midst of the thicket.
     
Sebastian gave up all thoughts of delicacy and slid the curved sword clear of its scabbard. He got to his feet and stood crouched, ready to meet any attacker that came at him from out of the undergrowth.
     
'J-just a traveller,' answered Sebastian, settling both hands around the leather grip and noting with a hint of dismay how the blade seemed to be quivering uncontrollably.
     
'Two travellers,' Max corrected him.
     
'A traveller and his beast of burden,' ventured Sebastian.
     
'Oh, that's nice! A little while ago I was a partner; suddenly I'm downgraded to a beast of burden.'
     
'Will you shut up?' snarled Sebastian. He returned his attention to the bushes, trying to remember the advice his father had given him all those years ago. But nothing seemed to come to him. 'We mean no harm,' he said. 'We're just passing through.'
     
'Please don't eat us!' whimpered Max.
     
There was a long silence, during which Sebastian became aware of a rhythmic thudding sound in his ears. It was a few moments before he realized it was the sound of his own heart.
     
'Would you be willing to share your campfire with a fellow traveller?' boomed the deep voice.
     
'Er . . . possibly,' said Sebastian.
     
'It's some kind of trick,' whispered Max. 'He'll get you off guard and then stick a knife in your ribs!'
     
'Shush!' Sebastian took a deep breath and tried to gather his courage. 'Step forward and show yourself,' he demanded.
     
Another silence. He licked his dry lips and waited, for what seemed an age. He was abruptly aware of how small and vulnerable he was, camped out here in the midst of this great, featureless plain. And how could he be sure that there was just one person out there? It could be a band of rogues, one of them trying to get him off guard, while his friends sneaked round behind him. He turned his head to take a quick peek over his shoulder, then snapped his gaze back as the bushes parted.
     
Somebody stepped out into the open – but at first Sebastian saw nothing. Then he realized that he needed to lower his gaze considerably.
     
A man was walking towards him out of the bushes, a thick?set fellow wearing a battered-looking breastplate over a chain-mail singlet. He also wore a crested iron helmet, with elaborate nose and cheek protectors that covered his face entirely. In one hand he held a vicious-looking straight sword, and slung across his left shoulder was what looked like the carcass of a javralat, the fleet-footed quadrupeds that inhabited this part of the country.
     
The newcomer was undoubtedly a fierce warrior and a force to be reckoned with. But unlike most warriors, he was no higher than Sebastian's hip.
     

CHAPTER 4
LITTLE BIG MAN

     
The stranger came to a halt a few steps from the fire, sheathed his sword and reached up a hand to remove his helmet. The hand seemed surprisingly big for one so small, and the action revealed a face that was strangely baby-like, with big blue eyes, jug ears and no sign of any hair whatsoever.
     
'Greetings, pilgrims,' said the manling, in that deep, resonant voice, which really didn't suit the face at all. 'I am Captain Cornelius Drummel, killer of Brigands, formally of the army of Queen Annisett.' He paused for a moment as though allowing this information to sink in; but getting no response, he continued, 'I see by the writing on your caravan that I am in the presence of Sebastian Darke, Prince of Fools.'
     
'Correct,' said Sebastian, making a