The Sunset Warrior - 01 Read Free Page A

functionally with a large work table and smallish writing desk along one wall, and a narrow bed along the opposite wall. The room was dark but he could make out a figure sprawled on the bed. Battered and scarred cabinets lined the upper areas of three walls. A lone chair squatted empty in the middle of the cubicle.
    The room to the right was less utilitarian. Two walls were lined with low couches and cushioned chairs. The daggam, including the two who had been sent for Stahlig, sat on the couch farthest from the door, amid a meal. In the anteroom two more daggam stood flanking Stahlig and the man who commanded the daggam. Ronin thought they must have torn down some walls in order to make these quarters. Two-cubicle quarters were rare enough Upshaft, but Down here—
    ‘Ah, Ronin,’ said the Medicine Man. ‘This is Freidal, Saardin of Security for the Freehold.’
    Freidal inclined his long body from the waist in a gesture that was somehow theatrical. He did not smile, and his eyes were blank beacons that studied Ronin for another brief moment before he returned his gaze to Stahlig. They resumed their discussion.
    Freidal was dressed all in deep grey save for the knee-high boots of the Saardin and the oblique chest stripes of the Chondrin, both of which were silver. Ronin wondered at this: overlord and tactician, eyes and ears, all rolled into one.
    ‘Nevertheless,’ he was saying now, ‘do you take responsibility for this man being here?’
    ‘Ach!’ Stahlig rubbed his forehead. ‘Do you think he will walk out with Borros? Nonsense.’
    Freidal eyed the Medicine Man coldly. ‘Sir, there is much here that is of the gravest import to the Freehold.’ The brass hilts of his daggers winked in the light as he shifted easily. ‘I cannot take unnecessary risks.’ He spoke in a curiously formal, almost anachronistic manner. He stood very straight and he was very tall.
    ‘I assure you there is nothing to fear from Ronin’s presence,’ Stahlig said. ‘He is merely observing my techniques, and is here only because I invited him.’
    ‘I trust you are not so foolish as to lie to me. That would lead to dire consequences both for you and your friend.’ He glanced briefly at Ronin and the light turned his left eye into a silver dazzle. Ronin started slightly as the Saardin turned back to Stahlig. A reflection, he thought. But it cannot be, not a flash as bright as that. Then he had it, and now, because he was looking for it, he saw that Freidal’s left eye did not move in its socket.
    Stahlig put up his hands. ‘Please, Saardin, you have misunderstood me. I merely thought to reassure—’
    ‘Medicine Man, permit me to make clear my position. I did not wish to summon you. Your presence here disturbs me. Your friend’s presence here disturbs me. I am thrust deeply into the midst of a highly volatile Security matter with grave ramifications. Had I my way, no one but my hand-picked daggam would have access to these quarters. However, I am now resigned to the fact that such a course is no longer possible. Borros, the Magic Man, is seriously ill, so my Med advisers tell me. They can no longer help him. They say it is beyond them. Hence, a Medicine Man must be summoned if Borros is to live. I wish him to live. Yet I have little patience with your kind. Please attend to him as quickly as possible and leave.’
    Stahlig inclined his head slightly, an acknowledgement of Freidal’s authority. ‘As you wish,’ he said softly. ‘However, may I ask you to recount the events immediately prior to Borros’s illness?’ Ronin bristled inwardly at the Medicine Man’s obsequious tone.
    ‘May I ask what for, sir?’
    Stahlig sighed and Ronin observed the lines of tiredness in his face. ‘Saardin, I would not ask you to defend the Freehold with one arm bound to your side. I ask only that you give me the same courtesy.’
    ‘It is essential, then?’
    ‘The more information I have, the greater the chance of helping the