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fourth month of her first pregnancy. Gathrid would not have guessed had she
not mentioned it.
Ahlert continued, "I'll have to smooth their feathers, then get them to raise
another army. So you don't get bored in the meantime, I arranged access to our
libraries and historians. Rogala says you're interested in the history of the
Great Sword. My people did a lot of research when we thought we could lay
hands on it first."
"Uhm." Gathrid nodded. He watched Mead till Loida poked him in the ribs.
"Why'd you do that?"
"It's not polite to stare. And the Mindak is trying to tell you something."
Embarrassed, he devoted more attention to Ahlert.
"We found a cache of readable books in Ansorge. They span several thousand
years. Some are in Old Pe-tralian. Those are the springboard my people are
using to translate the rest. You could help, being familiar with Petralian."
"I suppose." Ahlert had become formal and remote. The youth's staring had not
won him any affection.
"You seem distracted, Gathrid."
"It's a strange land. Everything is different. I don't know what to do. I grew
up in a remote outpost. This's the first real city I've seen. No one here but
Loida shares my background."
Ahlert smiled. "I suppose so. That hadn't occurred to me. Well, scholars are
scholars. You won't be uncomfortable doing your research."
The Mindak was right. The men he joined next morning were indifferent to
anything but their pursuit of knowledge.
He was a research project himself, Gathrid discovered. He spent half the day
answering questions. After lunch they answered his and showed him where to
find the histories he wanted to plumb. The pattern persisted for weeks. They
drained him of every thought even vaguely relating to the Great Sword.
The first thing Gathrid read was a report delivered to the Mindak two years
earlier, "A Summary History of the Great Sword, also known as the Sword of
Suchara, also known as Daubendiek." Its style matched that of its title. It
contained sketches of previous Swordbearings.
Tureck Aarant had been one of the luckiest Sword-bearers. His Choosing had
been brief and comparatively painless. It had ended in a quick death at
Rogala's hand. That section added little to Gathrid's knowledge.
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Aarant's immediate predecessor had been killed in battle. His predecessor had
committed suicide. Earlier, there had been a Swordbearer who had met his fate
at the hand of someone bearing the Shield of Dreibrant, and several who had
been as successful as Aarant. There was mention of a Stodreich Uetrecht who,
like Anyeck, had overreached. Rogala had ended his stewardship after just two
days.
The earliest Swordbearer with a remembered name was one Scharon Chaudoin. His
entry was longer than Aarant's. He had been a contemporary and enemy of
Nev-enka Nieroda when she had been alive. She had used the name Wistma Povich
then, and had adopted the name Nieroda later.
Chaudoin had battled Sommerlath and been defeated. Povich had separated him
from his esquire and captured him. He had been the longest lived Swordbearer.
His life had spanned a thousand years, the entire lifetime of Sommerlath's
Queen. He had spent every moment of her reign imprisoned in a large bottle
drifting at the end of a tether over Victory Square in Spillenkothen. He had
shared his prison with Daubendiek and a bloodsucking imp. The Sword had
remained in his hand. He hadn't had room to use it. He'd simply had to wait
till Rogala had found a way to kill him.
After the report, Gathrid read history books. The more he read, the more he
saw a pattern. The scholars confirmed his notion.
Evenings involved meals with Ahlert's family. After Gathrid's novelty value
faded, those shrank. Rogala and Gacioch became part of the dinner scene.
Gathrid avoided the dwarf otherwise, and did not talk to him at table.
Gacioch he saw more frequently. Ahlert's scholars were studying the severed
head too. Gacioch made himself difficult. The youth often heard the demon's
cursing from his study bench.
He enjoyed being round the scholars. Had the choice been his, he would have
joined them. One evening he detained the Mindak after their supper.
"How are the studies coming?" Ahlert asked. "Are they keeping you busy?"
"Hurting and helping, I guess. There's so much pain in it. There're too many
parallels between my path and Aarant's. And the others."
"We Chosen follow a script," Ahlert mumbled. "They fight the same old fights."
"I don't like it. In fact, I can't stand it. I don't want to follow Aarant's
road. I'd rather be a scholar. This's the first time in my life I've ever done
something I really enjoyed."
"Why'd you want to see me? I don't have much time. I have a meeting with the
Corichs."
Gathrid unslung Daubendiek and proffered the Sword. "Take it. You wanted it. I
don't."
Ahlert refused. "It's too late, Gathrid. Suchara is awake. I'm not even
tempted. She'd destroy me. It's safer for both of us to play the game out."
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