“Vaskos,” he turned to his son, “please ask your man to have a servant fetch us a round of brandy, and a draught for himself as well. He’s been a good watchdog for our door, this night. When we’ve had our tipple, Kinsmen, I think we should to bed. Tomorrow will commence a very busy week for most of us.”
Rising to his feet, Bili chose his words cautiously. “Kinsman Hari, please do not misunderstand me and do not read into what I am about to say meanings which are certainly not intended. It is not that I scorn the gracious hospitality of your fine hall, nor that I fear to sleep under your protection. On the contrary …”
But the laughter of old Komees Djeen brought him up short. The retired officer wiped at his eye, admonishing, “Oh, Bili, Bili, lad, we must, I fear, reeducate you. Your Kinsman Hari is no thin skinned northern princeling, ready to shed blood or make war over some fancied slight or imagined insult.
“He-all of us-are your Kindred, son, and we’re a blunt, outspoken people. If you really want to ride home at this hagridden hour, by Sun and Wind, come right out and say so! Not that I think it’s basically a good idea for you, the hope of us all, to ride all those miles alone, on a dark night, as unsafe as our roads have been of late… nor with all that seems afoot in this Duchy.
“I want no harm to come to you, boy. Much as I love your father, I will say that he’s been a poor chief in many ways, too lax and soft on men who deserve, have long deserved, a strong and pitiless hand. From what I know of you, what more I’ve learned of you tonight, you’ll be the kind of chief your father should have been, the kind of chief your grandfather Sacred Sun shine always on his memory was.
“Your dear mothers should have sent a few of their Freefighters with you today. They know, even if you are too lately come to know, that the night roads are no longer safe for Kindred, in either our duchy or in that of our western neighbor, Chief Sidnee of Vawn. Now, if Hari had taken my advice and hired a few Freefighters himself, he could loan you a proper escort, but…”
Djeen’s quoted advice was obviously a sore point with his host, for the short, stocky Komees immediately lashed back angrily, “Fah! Just because you’ve made of your hall a small fortress does not signify that the rest of us must hire on a host of useless mouths, men whose only accomplishments are their expertise at eating and drinking and gambling and wenching …”
“And fighting!” snapped Komees Djeen, unfazed by the other’s anger.
His face beetred and his big fists clenched, Hari opened his mouth to say more, but Ahndros quietly said, “Kinsman Bili will not be alone, Kindred; for I too am of a mind to ride to Morguhn Hall tonight.”
The Komeesee burst into laughter, their shouting match forgotten. Vaskos showed every tooth and Drehkos chuckled. “Soooo, Ahndros, that is why you wear that new velvet suit and those new boots! By Wind, Kinsman, you shine like a new moon. Take warning, if Vahrohnos Myros sees you looking so handsome, he’ll have you bedded and buggered before you can blink!”
Komees Djeen’s laughter ceased abruptly and he spoke in a voice edged with steel. “Sun and Wind grant that I live to see the day that Myros makes advances toward Ahndros. Oh ho, that will be a sight to see! For years that degenerate boarhog has been in sore need of gelding!”
Vahrohneeskos Ahndros said nothing in response to the jesting. He but sat, sipping at his wine and smiling now and again. All that Bili had learned of the modest man’s military exploits this night had come from others, mostly from Komees Djeen and Vaskos Daiviz. But before any word had been spoken, from their first handclasp and mindspeak, Bili had known Ahndros for what he was: a quiet, unassuming and basically gentle man; but, withal, a born warrior and warleader, who would be the best of allies or the most dangerous of foemen when swords were out. And women had told him that these bravest of men were right oft the tenderest of lovers. Bili thought that Mother Mahrnee had chosen well.
Bard Klairuhnz interrupted the rough banter. “Kinsmen, did I hear someone say that Hail Morguhn, your Ganbard, would be quartering the next week at Morguhn Hall? If so, I’d like the hospitality of Kinsman Bili, for I try to meet every bard I may.”
Bili smiled, even while wondering what might be the mysterious “bard’s” real purpose for riding with him this night. “Of course, Kinsman Klairuhnz, you are more than welcome at my father’s hall.”
“Well,” grumbled Komees Djeen finally. “I still don’t like it, but three armed men no, four, I’d forgot your retainer Ahndros; he doesn’t look like much of a fighter, but well at least give him the appearance with a helmet and a spear you should scare off any skulkers. And I’ll have a couple of my troopers ride along with you, ‘til you’re over the bridge and beyond the woods, anyhow.”
Turning to their host, he said, “Hari, unlock your cabinets and let’s get these lads and Kinsman Klairuhnz fitted with armor. If the party looks strong and sufficiently well-armed, chances are there’ll be no attack on them. As the adage of our ancestors had it: It takes the courage of a wolf to attack a guarded herd. And we’re dealing with only jackals here.
“Kinsman Vaskos, please ask your father’s servants to saddle our Kinsmen’s horses and that big mule Ahndros’s man rides. Don’t fret about my troopers, mind you, they’ll saddle their own.”
The troopers finished saddling all of the horses. Alternately, Komees Hari bawled the names of the missing servants and looked fit to die of embarrassment. Komees Djeen did not miss the opportunity to make the point that if Hari had had a few Freefighters of his own guarding the hall exits, the servants should have played merry hell getting out of the compound this late. At that, anger replaced all other emotions in Hari.
“Damn you, Djeen! My hall is not an armed camp! My people and servants love me and mine, and I need no barbarian jailers to lock them up of a night, nor to oversee them in the day!”
Geros, Ahndros’s retainer, led out his master’s horse and the Vahrohneeskos swung into the saddle, settling weightlessly, despite the added encumbrance of the three-quarter armor and thick, leathern gambeson into which Komees Djeen had chivvied the three of them, ere he’d allow them out of the hall. The rest of the party were already mounted and quaffing stirrupcups of cool wine laced with brandy, prepared by Vaskos and served by him and his orderly, Frahnkos.
At the open gate, Bili reined about and leaned from his kak to exchange final handclasps with Hari, Drehkos, Vaskos, and, lastly, Komees Djeen.
Speaking rapidly and in a low voice, the old Strahteegos told him, “I want to see you again, alive, Bili, so do you what I say. I think we’re all in far more danger than we now know. I’ll keep all here awake and armed until Dzhool and Shahrl get back. In those damned woods, form you a tight column and take the track at a brisk trot. If you let them string out, it could be the death of you or Ahndee or both, and …” Drehkos strode over, laughing. “Let be, Djeen, let be. They’ve a long ride before them. Surely you can find a better time to lecture on cavalry tactics?”
V
Once they were clear of the gate, Ahndros trotted his silver grey gelding up abreast of Bili and mindspoke. “Komees Djeen is a fine old man, Bili. I love and respect him more than any living man.”
“It is clear that he returns your love tenfold,” replied Bili.
Ahndros continued, “That’s why it pains me to say what I now must. Uncle Djeen dearly loves all aspects of soldiering, especially the fighting. He is constantly expecting-eagerly looking for, really-brigands or would-be assassins around every turn and behind every tree.