Swords: 06 - The Third Book of Lost Swords - Stonecutter's Story Read Free Page A

sir, when you put it that way, your deduction seems only reasonable.”
           “ ‘Only,’ did you say?” The Magistrate sighed. “But never mind. What is this most disturbing problem?”
           Listening to the hastily outlined story of the theft, Wen Chang allowed his epicanthic eyes to close almost as if in sleep. Only slight changes of expression, tensions playing about the thin-lipped mouth, indicated to Kasimir that his auditor was still awake and indeed listening intently.
           Kasimir in his relation of the events of the previous night had just reached the point where he had begun his examination of the stunned guard when the Magistrate’s eyes opened, fixing themselves alertly at a point over Kasimir’s left shoulder.
           The young man turned to look behind him. Prince al-Farabi, walking alone, his eyes looking haunted and wary, was advancing toward them along the shaded path beside the pool.
           Kasimir jumped to his feet and hastened to perform introductions. The two eminent men greeted each other with every indication of mutual interest and respect.
           Then Kasimir announced: “I have taken it upon myself, Prince, to appeal to the Magistrate here for his help in recovering the missing Sword.”
           Once more al-Farabi demonstrated grief. “Alas! I fear the treasure has gone beyond even the power of Wen Chang to bring it back—but of course I would welcome any chance of help.”
           “Having just undertaken a long journey which came to naught,” said Wen Chang, “and being in no particular hurry to return to my former place of service-—there have been political changes there, which I find unwelcome—I have been waiting for two days at this oasis, in hopes of receiving some sign from the Fates to direct me. It appears to me that your problem may well be the sign I have been looking for. I have long been an admirer of Prince Mark of Tasavalta, though I have never met him; for that reason alone I would like to see that his property is recovered. Also, from what I have heard of this problem so far, there are certain aspects of it that are intrinsically interesting.”
           “Thank you, sir!” Kasimir cried.
           “Almost,” said al-Farabi, “you allow me to begin to hope again!” He wiped his forehead with the edge of his robe.
           A few minutes later, the three men were seated more formally if no more comfortably inside the larger pavilion of the Prince, which by now had been erected in cool shade at the other side of the oasis from the pavilion of Wen Chang.
           Here inside the Prince’s tent, with a small cup of spiced wine in hand, Wen Chang began to ask questions, probing into one detail after another of the disappearance of the Sword.
           “In what sort of container was the Sword carried? And why was it stored in that particular tent when the caravan stopped?”
           “It was wrapped in blue silk, and that in turn in coarse gray woolen cloth, that it might seem an ordinary bundle and attract no special attention. And when we stopped for the night the Sword was always placed, in a pile with certain other pieces of baggage, in the same tent as my valued passenger here, who has been passing through my domain under my protection. I had no reason to believe that tent less safe than any other. Rather the contrary, as it was near the center of our small encampment.”
           “Nothing else was stolen last night? From that tent or any other?”
           “Nothing.”
           “And was the pile of baggage in the tent disturbed?”
           “It was very little disarranged, or perhaps not at all; until I began to search through it in hopes that the Sword might still be there. Alas!”
           Wen Chang sat back in his nest of pillows. “Then it would appear that the thief, or thieves, knew just what they wanted, and where to lay hands