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again."
Next day Murat took time to see that the blind man was cleaned up more thoroughly, dressed in
somewhat better clothing, and his eyes or rather the holes where his eyes had been covered with a
clean bandage. There could be at least no doubt about his blindness.
Within another day or two Murat, Carlo, and their crew of converted bandits, bringing with them
Metaxas the sightless beggar, were closely approaching the frontier of Tasavalta. This boundary
ran unmarked over vast stretches of country, but the robbers assured Murat they knew exactly where
it lay.
"What will you do, Father," Carlo was asking now, "if Her Highness does not welcome you as a
friend?"
"I thought I had explained that. I will talk to her. I believe she is as reasonable as she is
beautiful, and she will listen,"
"But suppose she doesn't?"
Murat looked steadily at his son. "I can assure you of this much. Whatever problem of credibility
I might face when we reach Sarykam, there can be no question of my using the Sword to persuade
Kristin to see me as a friend. Is that what you were going to suggest?" "I wasn't planning to
suggest that, Father. I was just " "Good." Carlo was silent.
"This power," his father continued, thumping the black hilt, "is going to remain safely muffled in
its sheath, until I can hand over the sheath and all to Princess Kristin. I wish to be fairly
reconciled with the Princess, not win her over in a one-sided contest of magic."
Still, from time to time during the day, Carlo continued to express his doubts about his father's
plan.
"I don't see, Father, why you are so reluctant to draw the Sword in her presence or in anyone's.
Now having experienced the effects for myself, I can testify that the Sword of Glory does not
deceive at least it doesn't when you are holding it. In your hands, it only enables the object of
its influence to see the truth about its holder." After noting the way his father looked at him,
the young man shook his head and dared to argue further. "It's true, Father! You really are a
great man, and worthy of great devotion!" The Crown Prince smiled, shook his head, and rode on.
Murat had heard that long stretches of the borders of Tasavalta were usually left not only
unmarked but unguarded, so that more often that not it was possible to cross back and forth
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without being seen or challenged. Again, some of his magically reformed bandits confirmed this,
though otherwise they had little good to say about the land they were about to enter.
But this time fortune decreed that they were not to achieve an unseen crossing. Scarcely had
Murat's little party set foot inside the realm of Princess Kristin than it encountered a
Tasavaltan cavalry patrol.
FIVE
THE land in the vicinity of the encounter was relatively flat and almost treeless; it was quite
possible that the patrol had been a kilometer or more away when they caught sight of Murat's party
crossing the border. However they had made the discovery, the Tasavaltans were now riding quickly
to intercept the intruders.
"No doubt we are a suspicious-looking crew," muttered the Crown Prince to his son. "To the border
patrol, we can hardly appear to be anything but bandits." "What are we going to do, Father?" "We
are certainly not going to run away." Ordering his followers not to flee, nor to begin a fight,
Murat led them slowly forward. As the riders in green and blue drew near, the thuggish-looking
members of Murat's escort closed ranks protectively about their leader and his son.
Sternly the Crown Prince ordered his bandit-escort to lower their weapons, and move into an open
formation, so he could see the Tasavaltans and they would have a good view of him. Then he
continued to ride forward, raising empty hands in a peaceful gesture. Carlo followed of his own
accord, keeping a little behind his father.
When Murat had come within fifty or sixty meters of the patrol, some of the troopers began
pointing toward him, and calling to their officer. The Crown Prince, when he thought about it, was
not surprised; he supposed that probably the whole Tasavaltan army must have been alerted to watch
for last year's most notorious villain, the foreign potentate who had been royally entertained by
the Princess, and then had treacherously repaid Tasavaltan hospitality by stealing Woundhealer.
Finally the patrol's commanding officer shouted: "Ho, there! You are Crown Prince Murat of Culm?"
Murat reined his animal to a halt, and called back in a firm voice: "I am the man you name. I come
in peace, Lieutenant, with my son beside me, to speak to your most honored Princess. I will
require an escort to your capital, and I ask that you provide it." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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