The Sunset Warrior - 01 Read Online Free Page A

Stahlig reached into his bag and administered something to Borros. Almost at once he quieted. His eyes closed and his breathing became less laboured. Stahlig wiped his sweating brow. Ronin began to say something but the old man stopped him with a hand on his arm.
    ‘Well, I have done all I can now,’ he said in a normal tone. He picked up his bag and they left the room. At the door, he left a message for Freidal with one of the daggam. ‘Tell your Saardin that I shall return during the seventh Spell to check the condition of the patient.’
    ‘What did you find out?’
    The homey clutter was somehow comforting. The dim Overheads threw a dismal light. The clay lamps were in a corner, resting precariously on a pile of tablets, waiting to be used. The crumpled paper lay where it had been tossed. Across the room, the darkness of the surgery filled the open doorway.
    Stahlig shook his head. ‘I do not wish to involve you further. It is enough that you have encountered the Saardin of Security.’
    ‘But I was the one—’
    ‘I gave the assent.’ He was angry at himself. ‘Believe me when I tell you that I am going to forget what I have seen. Borros is just another patient in need of treatment.’
    ‘But he is not just another patient,’ said Ronin. ‘Why will you not tell me what you have learned about him?’
    ‘It is far too dangerous—’
    ‘Chill take that!’ Ronin exclaimed. ‘I am not a child who needs protection.’
    ‘I did not mean—’
    ‘Did you not, then?’
    In the small silence that built itself around the two, Ronin recognized a potential danger. If one of them did not speak soon, they would be irrevocably separated. He did not understand why this was and it bothered him.
    Stahlig lowered his eyes and said softly: ‘I—have always thought of you in a certain way. As Medicine Man, many things in life—things that at one time I perhaps wanted for myself—were not allowed me. Both you and—your sister—were very close to me when you were young. And then—there was only you.’ He said it in a halting, protracted manner, and it was obvious that it was difficult for him. Yet Ronin could not find it in himself to make it any easier. Or perhaps this was not possible. ‘But I understand that you are a Bladesman now. I know what that means. But every once in a while I remember—that child.’ He turned and poured himself a drink, swallowed it at once, poured another and one for Ronin, handing him the cup. ‘And now,’ he said, as if nothing had happened, ‘if you insist, I shall tell you what I have learned.’
    Stahlig told him that from what he had observed he was sure that Security had had Borros for more than a Cycle. ‘Possibly as long as seven Cycles, it is hard to say with that particular drug.’ Further, it seemed fairly clear that in defining the drugs used and Borros’s reaction to Stahlig’s voice, Security had been interrogating him.
    ‘“Interviewing” they call it,’ he said. ‘One of the effects of this drug is to submerge the will. In other words—’
    ‘They were picking his brain.’
    ‘Attempting to, yes.’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘Well, these things are very tricky and they are certainly not foolproof.’
    ‘But why not just confiscate his notes? Surely that would have been easier.’
    The Medicine Man shrugged. ‘Perhaps they could not decipher them, who knows? In any event, most of what Freidal told us and allowed us to hear was false.’
    ‘But why go to all that trouble? And if what you say is true, that means Security has deliberately interfered in the work of a Magic Man.’
    ‘Quite so.’ Stahlig nodded. ‘And then there is the matter of the Dehn spots—’ He stopped abruptly. They both heard soft footfalls in the darkness outside. He said in a louder voice: ‘Time is passing. It is near to Sehna.’ In an undertone, he added: ‘You must be at board. You understand?’
    Ronin nodded.
    ‘And tomorrow and tomorrow.’ Then louder: ‘Good, I