he stood, sword in hand.
"Good day, laddie," said Druss, spotting a movement to his left in the undergrowth. Another whisper of branch on cloth came from his right.
"And what brings you to our charming forest?" asked the young man. Druss casually walked to a nearby beech and sat, leaning his back against the bark.
"A desire for solitude," he said.
"Ah yes. Solitude! And now you have company. Perhaps this is not a lucky time for you."
"One time is as lucky as another," said Druss, returning the other's smile. "Why don't you ask your friends to join us? It must be damp skulking in the bushes."
"How rude of me, to be sure. Eldred, Ring, come forward and meet our guest." Sheepishly two other young men pushed their way through the greenery to stand beside the first. Both were dressed in identical clothing of green tunic and leather leggings. "Now we are all here," said the first.
"All except the bearded one with the longbow," said Druss.
The young man laughed. "Come out, Jorak. Old father here misses nothing, it seems." The fourth man came into the open. He was large - a head taller than Druss and built like an ox, his massive hands dwarfing the longbow.
"Now, dear sir, we are all here. Be so kind as to divest yourself of all your valuables, for we are in a hurry. There is a stag roasting at camp, and sweet new potatoes, garnished with mint. I don't want to be late." He smiled, almost apologetically.
Druss bunched his powerful legs beneath him, rising to his feet, his blue eyes glinting with battle joy.
"If you want my purse, you will have to earn it," he said.
"Oh damn!" said the young man, smiling and reseating himself. "I told you, Jorak, that this old fellow had a warrior look about him."
"And I told you that we should have merely shot him down and then taken his purse," said Jorak.
"Unsporting," said the first. He turned to Druss. "Listen, old man, it would be churlish of us to shoot you down from a distance and that sets us a pretty problem. We must have your purse, don't you see? No point in being a robber else?" He paused, deep in thought, then spoke once more. "You're obviously not a rich man, so whatever we get will not be worth a great deal of effort. How about spinning a coin? You win you keep your money, we win we take it. And I'll throw in a free meal. Roast stag! How does that sound?"
"How about if I win I get your purses, and a meal?" asked Druss.
"Now, now, old horse! No point in taking liberties when we're trying to be friendly. All right! How about this? Honour needs to be satisfied. How about a little skirmish with Jorak here? You look quite strong, and he's a dab hand at bare-knuckle squabbles."
"Done!" said Druss. "What are the rules?"
"Rules? Whoever is left standing wins. Win or lose, we'll stand you a supper. I rather like you -you remind me of my grandfather."
Druss grinned broadly, reached into his pack and pulled on his black gauntlets. "You don't mind do you, Jorak?" he asked. "It's the old skin on my knuckles - it tends to split."
"Let's get it over with," said Jorak, advancing.
Druss stepped in to meet him, taking in the awesome breadth of the man's shoulders. Jorak lunged, hurling a right cross. Druss ducked and crashed his own right fist into the other's belly. A whoosh of air exploded from the giant's mouth. Stepping back, Druss thundered a right hook to the jaw and Jorak hit the ground face first. He twitched once, then lay still.
"The youth of today," said Druss sadly, "have no stamina!"
The young leader chuckled. "You win, Father Time. But look, for the sake of my fast diminishing prestige, give me the opportunity of besting you at something. We will have a wager: I wager my purse against yours that I am a better archer."
"Hardly a fair bet, laddie. I will concede that point. But I will make a wager with you: strike the trunk of the tree behind me with one arrow, and I'll pay up."
"Come now, dear sir, where is the art in that? Less than fifteen paces, and the bole is
"Good day, laddie," said Druss, spotting a movement to his left in the undergrowth. Another whisper of branch on cloth came from his right.
"And what brings you to our charming forest?" asked the young man. Druss casually walked to a nearby beech and sat, leaning his back against the bark.
"A desire for solitude," he said.
"Ah yes. Solitude! And now you have company. Perhaps this is not a lucky time for you."
"One time is as lucky as another," said Druss, returning the other's smile. "Why don't you ask your friends to join us? It must be damp skulking in the bushes."
"How rude of me, to be sure. Eldred, Ring, come forward and meet our guest." Sheepishly two other young men pushed their way through the greenery to stand beside the first. Both were dressed in identical clothing of green tunic and leather leggings. "Now we are all here," said the first.
"All except the bearded one with the longbow," said Druss.
The young man laughed. "Come out, Jorak. Old father here misses nothing, it seems." The fourth man came into the open. He was large - a head taller than Druss and built like an ox, his massive hands dwarfing the longbow.
"Now, dear sir, we are all here. Be so kind as to divest yourself of all your valuables, for we are in a hurry. There is a stag roasting at camp, and sweet new potatoes, garnished with mint. I don't want to be late." He smiled, almost apologetically.
Druss bunched his powerful legs beneath him, rising to his feet, his blue eyes glinting with battle joy.
"If you want my purse, you will have to earn it," he said.
"Oh damn!" said the young man, smiling and reseating himself. "I told you, Jorak, that this old fellow had a warrior look about him."
"And I told you that we should have merely shot him down and then taken his purse," said Jorak.
"Unsporting," said the first. He turned to Druss. "Listen, old man, it would be churlish of us to shoot you down from a distance and that sets us a pretty problem. We must have your purse, don't you see? No point in being a robber else?" He paused, deep in thought, then spoke once more. "You're obviously not a rich man, so whatever we get will not be worth a great deal of effort. How about spinning a coin? You win you keep your money, we win we take it. And I'll throw in a free meal. Roast stag! How does that sound?"
"How about if I win I get your purses, and a meal?" asked Druss.
"Now, now, old horse! No point in taking liberties when we're trying to be friendly. All right! How about this? Honour needs to be satisfied. How about a little skirmish with Jorak here? You look quite strong, and he's a dab hand at bare-knuckle squabbles."
"Done!" said Druss. "What are the rules?"
"Rules? Whoever is left standing wins. Win or lose, we'll stand you a supper. I rather like you -you remind me of my grandfather."
Druss grinned broadly, reached into his pack and pulled on his black gauntlets. "You don't mind do you, Jorak?" he asked. "It's the old skin on my knuckles - it tends to split."
"Let's get it over with," said Jorak, advancing.
Druss stepped in to meet him, taking in the awesome breadth of the man's shoulders. Jorak lunged, hurling a right cross. Druss ducked and crashed his own right fist into the other's belly. A whoosh of air exploded from the giant's mouth. Stepping back, Druss thundered a right hook to the jaw and Jorak hit the ground face first. He twitched once, then lay still.
"The youth of today," said Druss sadly, "have no stamina!"
The young leader chuckled. "You win, Father Time. But look, for the sake of my fast diminishing prestige, give me the opportunity of besting you at something. We will have a wager: I wager my purse against yours that I am a better archer."
"Hardly a fair bet, laddie. I will concede that point. But I will make a wager with you: strike the trunk of the tree behind me with one arrow, and I'll pay up."
"Come now, dear sir, where is the art in that? Less than fifteen paces, and the bole is
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