Free Hawk Queen 01 - Ironhand's Daughter by David Gemmell Page B

following.
    They rode for more than an hour, moving through the trees and over the high hills. Towards mid-morning Ballistar saw Fell and two of his foresters, Gwyn Dark-eye and Bakris Tooth-gone; he waved and called out to them.
    The three foresters converged on the dwarf, ignoring the dark-skinned rider. 'Good day to you, Fell,' said Ballistar. Fell grinned, and Ballistar experienced renewed pleasure in the fact that he could look the handsome forester straight in the eye.
    'Good day to you, little friend. She is a fine pony.'
    'She's mine. A gift from the sorcerer.'
    'He is not a sorcerer!' snapped the servant. 'And I wish you would stop saying it.'
    'The Black man wants me to cook for him. Duck! Sigarni told him about me; he's paid me with this pony.' Ballistar decided not to mention the gold pieces. Fell he liked above all men, and Gwyn Dark-eye had always been kind to him. But Bakris Tooth-gone was not a man Ballistar trusted.
    'Are you sure he doesn't want to cook you?' asked Gwyn. A slightly smaller man than Fell, and round-shouldered, Gwyn was the finest archer among the Loda.
    Ballistar looked down upon him and noticed the man had a bald spot beginning at his crown. 'On a day like today the thought does not concern me,' said Ballistar happily. 'Today I have seen the world as a tall man.'
    'Enjoy it,' sneered Bakris. 'Because when you get off that midget horse you'll return to the useless lump you've always been.' The words were harshly spoken, and they cut through Ballistar's good humour. Fell swung angrily on the forester but before he could speak Ballistar cut in.
    'Don't worry about it, Fell. He's only angry because I've got a bigger prick than him. I don't know why it should concern him. Everyone else has too!'
    Bakris lunged at the dwarf, but Fell caught him by the shoulder of his leather jerkin and dragged him back. 'That's enough!' roared Fell. The sudden commotion caused the pony to move forward.
    Asmidir's servant nudged his gelding alongside and the two riders continued on their way.
    Ballistar swung in the saddle and looked back at the foresters. When he saw Bakris staring after him he lifted his fist and waggled his little finger.
    Asmidir's servant chuckled. 'You shouldn't be so swift to make enemies,' he observed.
    'I don't care,' said Ballistar.
    'And why is it that you Highlanders value so much the size of the male organ? Size is of no relevance, not to the act itself nor to the pleasure derived.'
    Ballistar glanced up at the man. 'Ah,' he thought, 'so you've got a small one too!' Aloud he said,
    'I wouldn't know. I have never had a woman.'
    It was mid-afternoon when they topped the last rise before the castle. Ballistar had never travelled this far before and he halted his pony to stare down at the magnificent building. It was not a castle in the true sense, for it was indefensible, having wide-open gateways with no gates, and no moat surrounding it. It had once been the house of the Hunt Lord of the Grigors, but that clan had been annihilated in the Lowland wars, the few survivors becoming part of the Loda. A three-storied building, with a single tower by the north wall that rose to five storeys, it was built of grey granite, and the windows were of coloured glass joined by lead strips.
    'We are late,' said the servant. 'Come!'
    Ballistar's heart was pounding and his hands trembled as he flapped the reins against the pony's neck.
    Two gold pieces seemed a tiny amount just then.

IV
    AUTUMN WAS NOT far off, but here in the Highlands even the last days of summer were touched by a bitter cold that warned of the terrible winters that lay ahead. Two fires blazed at either end of the long hall, and even the heavy velvet curtains shimmered against the cold fingers of the biting wind that sought out the cracks and gaps in the old window frames.
    Asmidir pushed away his empty plate and leaned back in his chair. 'You are a fine cook,' he told the dwarf. Two servants entered, lighting lanterns that hung in