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.Jason wasn't sure how much the Engineer was talking to him andhow much he was talking to himself."These are called cartridges," Riccetti said, pulling out one of the brass pegs."Everything in one--bullethere, resting on charge, inside here, primer cap here." He tapped the gray tip of the.cartridge.Therewas a hole in it, like the head of a penis."I've drilled about halfway through the bullet.When this hits meatit expands, mushrooms almost like it's exploding.Itwill do damage."He worked the pistol; the cylinder slipped to one side.Riccetti slid the cartridge into a hole in thecylinder."Fits in here like so," he said, tilting the weapon up, letting the cartridge fall back into his palm."Six holes; six cartridges," he said, fitting five of them in, "but carry it with an empty chamber here, underthe hammer.Don't want it going off when your horse takes a bouncy step."He tilted the weapon back; the five cartridges slipped back into his palm, looking oddly innocuous andeven pretty in the lamp-light."Save your brass.We can reload it here, if it's not too badly bashedup--and if it is, we can always use some scrap.If a bullet misfires, drop it to the ground and bury itshallowly, with the toe of your boot.Don't pick it up."He snapped the empty barrel back into the gun and pointed the weapon out into the night."You can pullthe hammer back like this," he said, thumbing it back until it locked into place with a solid click."Theempty chamber under the hammer rotates out of the way, bringing a cartridge into line.Then fire slowly,squeeze carefully--it's easier than what you're used to; there's no perceptible hangfire." Riccetti smiled,lowering the hammer carefully."Or you can just pull back on the trigger.Double action, it's called."The hammer rose, then snapped down."Hammer rises, then falls.Hammer hits firing pin, pin hits primer,primer fires charge, charge shoots bullet.Different gunpowder--different principle.And when we sell thesecret of the old stuff to the elves, it won't teach them how to make this kind--or how to make it safewhen you do.But Ranella and I can do it."Jason smiled."I don't even know how the old gunpowder is made." It was something he'd have to betrusted with eventually, but certainly not until he took the crown.Riccetti ignored him."You'll find it smokes a whole lot less than you're used to.Smells different; not asmuch like the fires of hell.In any case, you pull the trigger again and the cylinder turns, bringing a newcartridge into line.Hammer hits firing pin, pin hits primer, primer fires charge, charge shoots bullet." Hedry-fired four more times, quickly."Like five pistols in one," Jason said.Lou Riccetti smiled."Or better." He picked up a thin, flat, round piece of steel, about half again thediameter of a Biemish copper mark, but perhaps a fifth as thick, and fitted six cartridges snugly into it.Hesnapped a cover over the primer end of the cartridges, holding them tightly into place."Break open thecylinder, like so, dump out your old brass and slip this in, tight." He snapped the cylinder closed; thecover went flying to the ground."Loaded again.Fire six times more; repeat as necessary.Strip off yourtunic.""Eh?""Get to your feet," Riccetti said, doing just that.He picked up the holster."Strip off your tunic."Jason did just that, and Riccetti helped him shrug into the holster."The rig fits around your back,regardless.It can go on over the tunic--a good idea, if you're wearing a cloak or coat over the tunic--orunder, like this." He handed the gun to Jason; -Jason slipped it into the holster. It slid almost under his arm, but not quite, and hung with a comforting weight.The butt was cantedforward far enough for an easy draw with the right hand, and a clumsy one for the left.Jason reached across his waist to where his swordhilt would have been; the gun didn't interfere with across-body draw."It won't give you away--as long as you don't show it.A lot of folks carry a hidden knife strapped aboutthere, and more and more slaver pistols are showing up."He tapped a stubby index finger against the pistol."Right now there's exactly six of these in existence,and only two thousand rounds of ammunition.In a year, Ranella is going to be making them in quantity inHoltun-Bieme; we'll keep the ammo manufacture here, where I can keep an eye on it.In ten years, notonly will every Imperial soldier be equipped with long guns that can fire faster and farther than this pistol,but you'll have a limited number of weapons that can fire more than two hundred rounds per minute.Youhave the opinion of the Engineer on that." He smiled."Now, how scared are you of a bunch of elves withsingle-shot black powder guns?"Jason didn't like it--damn it, gunpowder wastheir secret, even if he wasn't privy to it yet--but theEngineer wasn't going to be deterred."I guess we do it your way," he said.Riccetti knocked back another hefty gulp of Riccetti's Best."You guess right, Jason Cullinane.Like yourfather used to say: 'All men are created equal.Lou Riccetti made them that way.' ""I.don't understand."Riccetti handed him the bottle."You will, Jason.You will."Jason took a sip, and then shrugged."I'll take your word for it.""Two more things.If he's alive, you find him and you tell him thanks from me." Riccetti hefted the bottleas though to drink from it, then set it back down on the table."I don't think I ever got around to sayingthanks to the big bastard," he said, shaking his head."Damn it.""He knew."Or knows."And the other thing?""I'm not a warrior," Riccetti said slowly, deliberately."I'm very good at what I do, I'm very happy atwhat I do; I'm as good in my way as your old man was in his."But just this once, I wish I was a warrior.So you do it for me.If it can be done--you do it." Riccettipicked up the pistol and placed it in Jason's hand, folding Jason's fingers over it."This is an iffy sort ofthing, but if your dad is dead, and if Slovotsky and the dwarf screwed up and didn't kill the one who gothim, and if you get the chance--no heroics; don't get yourself killed--you take this pistol," he said,squeezing tightly, "you walk up to whoever killed him, you stick the barrel in his navel, you say to him,'Lou Riccetti says hello, asshole,' and then you pull the trigger until all you hear are clicks.You blast hisbelly out through his fucking spine--you do it for me."The Engineer's eyes were wet; he turned away. PART THREEThe SearchCHAPTER 14The Test of the Dwarf KingThe nobly born must nobly meet his fate.--EuripidesWhen the Black Camel comes for me, I'm not going to go kicking and screaming--I am, however,going to try to talk my way out of it."No, no, you want theotherWalter Slovotsky."--Walter SlovotskyAt the end of the corridor there was another of the peculiar doglegs, this one more difficult than the last.As the passage jogged off to the left, the ceiling inclined sharply downward, leaving a narrow space thattook a bit of doing even for a dwarf to fit through.That made it much more awkward for a human: Durinehad to leave his weapons with Tennetty and Jason and worm himself through in an awkward half-squat.Getting in to see King Maherralen of Endell was getting to be a definite pain in the ass, Jason Cullinanedecided [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]