The Redemption of Althalus. David Eddings

and then drifted obediently down to Althalus. ‘Very impressive,’ Althalus said, hefting the heavy weapon.

      ‘You give that back!’

      ‘No. Sorry. You don’t really need it.’ Althalus stuck the heavy sword into the ground and then neatly filched the brute’s dagger and purse from his belt as well.

      Pekhal began roaring, his face contorted with savage fury.

      Althalus lifted his hand and said, ‘Dheu’ again.

      Pekhal rose about another twenty feet into the air. His face blanched, his eyes went very wide, and he stopped moving entirely.

      ‘How’s the view from up there?’ Althalus was beginning to enjoy this. ‘Would you like to take a look at things from a few miles higher up? I can fix that, if you wish.’

      Pekhal gaped at him, his eyes filled with sudden terror.

      ‘Do we understand each other, friend?’ Althalus asked. ‘Now, then, the next time you see Ghend, give him my regards and tell him to quit playing around like this. I don’t work for him any more, so he has no claim on me.’ Althalus picked up his new purse and dagger. He tucked the purse in his pocket, pulled his new sword out of the turf, and tapped its heavy blade with the hilt of the dagger. It made a ringing sound. Then he tested the sword-edge with his thumb. It seemed much sharper than his bronze sword. ‘Very nice,’ he murmured. Then he looked up at Pekhal. ‘I certainly want to thank you for the gifts, friend,’ he said pleasantly. ‘All I have to give you in return are my old weapons, but since you’re so much nobler than I am, I’m sure you won’t mind.’ He shed his bronze weapons. ‘We’ll have to do this again one of these days,’ he called. ‘You have yourself a very nice day now, hear?’

      ‘Are you going to just leave him up there?’ Emmy asked critically.

      ‘Oh, I imagine he’ll set along about the same time the sun does, Em. If he doesn’t come down today, he probably will tomorrow – or the next day. Why don’t we have a bite of breakfast and move on?’

      She was trying to stifle her laughter without too much success. ‘You’re awful!’ she chuckled.

      ‘Fun, though, don’t you think? Is that half-wit the best that Ghend can come up with?’

      ‘Pekhal’s the one Ghend summons when brute strength and savagery seem to be called for. The others are much more dangerous.’

      ‘Good. This might get kind of boring otherwise.’ He looked closely at his new dagger. ‘What is this metal?’ he asked.

      ‘Men call it steel,’ she replied. ‘They learned how to forge it about a thousand years ago.’

      ‘I was a little busy just then. That’s probably why I missed it. Where does this metal come from?’

      ‘You’ve seen all those red rocks in Plakand, haven’t you?’

      ‘Oh, yes. Plakand’s red from one end to the other.’

      ‘There’s a metal called iron in those rocks. Men couldn’t smelt it out of the rocks until they learned how to make hotter fires. Iron is harder than bronze, but it’s brittle. It has to be mixed with other metals to make weapons or tools.’

      ‘It’s completely replaced bronze, then?’

      ‘For most things, yes.’

      ‘It might be better than bronze, but it’s not as pretty. This grey’s sort of depressing.’

      ‘What on earth has that got to do with anything?’

      ‘It’s a question of aesthetics, Em. We should always strive to fill our lives with beauty.’

      ‘I don’t see anything beautiful in something that was designed to kill people.’

      ‘There’s beauty in everything, Em. You just have to learn to look for it.’

      ‘If you’re going to preach at me, I think I’ll just curl up and go back to sleep.’

      ‘Whatever you wish, Em. Oh, before you doze off, though, do you happen to know which clan here in Arum has that knife we’re looking for? If I’m going to have to search every man in these mountains for it, we could be here for quite a while.’

      ‘I know where it is, pet, and you’ve been there before. You’re even rather famous in the clan that has the Knife.’

      ‘Me? I try to avoid fame whenever I can.’

      ‘I wonder why. You do remember the way to the hall of Gosti Big Belly, don’t you?’

      ‘Is that where the knife is?’

      ‘Yes. The current Clan-Chief has it. He doesn’t know how he came by it or how important it is, so he keeps it in the room where all his spare weapons are.’

      ‘Is that a coincidence of some sort? I mean, that the knife’s in Gosti’s hall?’

      ‘Probably not.’

      ‘Would you care to explain that?’

      ‘I don’t think so. The word “coincidence” always seems to start religious arguments for some reason.’

      For the next several days, they traveled along the ridge-line Althalus had followed to make good his escape from Gosti and they finally reached the high pass that overlooked the canyon where Gosti’s hall had stood. The rough log fort had been replaced by a large stone castle. The rickety toll-bridge that had been the source of Gosti’s meager wealth was gone, and the bridge that now spanned the rushing stream was a structure of stone arches. Althalus turned his horse off the trail and rode back into the trees.

      ‘Aren’t we going on down?’ Emmy asked.

      ‘It’s almost evening, Em. Let’s wait and go down in the morning.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘My instincts tell me to wait, all right?’

      ‘Oh, well,’ she replied with exaggerated sarcasm, ‘we must obey our instincts, mustn’t we?’

      ‘Be nice,’ he murmured. Then he dismounted and went over to the edge of the trees to look at the settlement outside the fort. Something struck him as peculiar. ‘Why are the men all wearing dresses?’ he asked.

      ‘They call them kilts, Althalus.’

      ‘A dress is a dress, Em. What’s wrong with leggings like mine?’

      ‘They prefer kilts. Don’t be picking any fights with them about their clothing. Keep your opinions to yourself.’

      ‘Yes, Ma’am,’ he replied. ‘You’ll want fish for dinner again, I suppose?’

      ‘If it’s not too much trouble.’

      ‘And if it is?’

      ‘That’s just too bad, isn’t it?’

CHAPTER EIGHT

      Althalus and Emmy woke early the next morning, but they waited until the villagers started stirring before Althalus mounted his horse and rode through the woods to the trail that led on down to the settlement. He noticed that the houses were more substantial now than they’d been last time he’d been here.

      They reached the settlement just as a husky fellow in a dirty kilt came out of one of the houses near the wall of the castle. He was stretching and yawning, but when he saw Althalus riding toward him, his eyes became suddenly alert. ‘You there – stranger,’ he called.

      ‘Were you talking to me?’ Althalus replied innocently.

      ‘You don’t live here, so you’re a stranger, aren’t you?’

      Althalus made some show of looking