The Reluctant Swordsman Read Free

Seventh in the guard at a time, and I have worked here more than sixty years.”
    They studied each other in silence for a moment. The swordsman frowned. While his kind had few scruples at eradicating each other, they did not often appreciate advice on the subject from civilians. Honakura decided to reveal a little more.
    “It is rare for highrank swordsmen to visit the temple,” he said. “None at all for at least two years. Curiously, though, I have heard of several who arrived at Hann and stated that to be their intention—at least one Seventh and a couple of Sixths.”
    The swordsman’s huge fists clenched. “Implying?” “I imply nothing!” Honakura said hastily. “Pure hearsay. They were reported to be planning to take the ferry, and then that long trail through the trees.   Probably they changed their minds. One did make as near as a pilgrims’ hostelry, but was unfortunate enough to partake there of some tainted meat. You are all the more welcome for your rarity, my lord.”
    Muscles did not necessarily imply stupidity—the young man understood. A dark flush of fury crept over his cheekbones.
    He glanced around, looking at the grandiose facade of the temple and at the great court below, flanked by the shingle beach and the still pool, beyond that to the River frothing and foaming as it emerged from the canyon, and along the canyon to the mist-shrouded splendor of the Judgment. Then he turned his head to survey the wooded park of the temple grounds with the big houses of the senior officials. One of those would certainly go with the office of reeve. “To be a swordsman in Her temple guard would be a great honor,” he said.   “It seems to be even better rewarded these days than it used to be,” Honakura remarked helpfully.
    The hard face became menacing. “A man could borrow a sword, I expect?”
    “That could be arranged.”
    The young man nodded. “My service is always to the Goddess.” Now that, Honakura thought happily, was how a deal should be made. Murder had not even been mentioned.
    “But first the exorcism?” the swordsman said.
    “Certainly, my lord.” Honakura could not remember an exorcism in the last five years, but he was familiar with the ritual. “Fortunately, it does not require that your craft or even rank be mentioned. And your present garb will be adequate.”
    The swordsman sighed with relief. “And it will succeed?” One did not become or prevail as Third Deputy Chairman of the Council of Venerables without learning to cover one’s hindquarters. “It will succeed, my lord, unless . . . ”
    “Unless?” echoed the swordsman, his broad face darkening with suspicion . . .   Or was it guilt? Carefully Honakura said, “Unless the demon has been sent by the Most High Herself. Only you know whether you have committed some grievous transgression against Her.”
    An expression of great agony and sorrow fell over the swordsman’s face. He dropped his eyes and was silent for a while. Then he looked up defiantly and growled, “It was sent by the sorcerers.”
    Sorcerers! The little priest staggered back a step. “Sorcerers!” he blurted. “My lord, in all my years in this temple, I have never heard a pilgrim mention sorcerers. I had hardly thought that such truly existed any more.” Now the swordsman’s eyes became as terrible as the priest had guessed they might. “Oh, they exist!” he rumbled. “I have come very far, holy one, very far.   But sorcerers exist, believe me.”
    Honakura pulled himself together. “Sorcerers cannot prevail against the Holiest,” he said confidently. “Certainly not in Her own temple. If they are the origin of your distress, then the exorcism will succeed. Shall we see to it?”
     
    Honakura beckoned over an orange-gowned Fourth and gave orders. Then he led the swordsman through the nearest arch and along the length of the nave to the statue of the Goddess.
    The big man sauntered at Honakura’s side, taking one stride to his