“I think so,” the Bard assured him.
Wordless, Spiros bowed stiffly toward the foreigner, nodded at Klairuhnz, spun on his heel, and stalked out.
Klairuhnz waited until the footfalls had faded into the distance, then mindspoke Master Ahlee. “You received both my mindspeak and his, then?”
Ahlee’s sudden start would have been imperceptible to one not watching for it. Just as quickly as he had reacted, however, he regained his composure, then frowned, saying, “Sir, I did not bid you enter. Nonetheless, I bid you welcome and peace. What matter brings you to this humble instrument of Ahlah?”
Throwing back his head, Klairuhnz gusted a laugh at the ceiling, then went on, still in mindspeak, “Master Humble Instrument, we are both of us too old to play games and there is no time to dissemble. Your mindspeak is known to be excellent and your receptivity even better. So states the Undying Lady Aldora, and she is never wrong about such talents!”
When it came, Ahlee’s mindspeak proved to be almost as strong as the Bard’s own. “Who are you?”
Having consumed the second evening meal since the bridge fight, the Kindred nobles all gathered in Bili’s spacious bedchamber. Only a few hours earlier had word reached them that Bili’s only uncle, Tahneest Bili of Morguhn, had been murdered, along with his wife, two sons, and bodyguards, while journeying to Morguhn Hall. This was a grim-faced aggregation.
Bili sat propped on his greatbed, flanked on the one side by his mothers and on the other by his six months younger brother Djehf, who had ridden in unexpected and unannounced to spend a few weeks before the commence-ment of the spring campaigning in the Middle Kingdoms.
Komees Djeen had drawn a chair close to the hearth and its fire, kindled to dispel the chill of the damp, foggy night, where he sat frowning and ceaselessly cracking his big, scarred knuckles, his stiff leg extended before the blaze. Ever and again, his eye strayed to the portable bed, on which lay Ahndee’s unconscious form.
Master Ahlee had permitted his patient to be borne to the conference only on condition that he remain in attendance throughout, promising to awaken the young Vahrohneeskos briefly, if need be. The physician sat at the head of the cot, conversing in low tones with Spiros and the Bard. Clan Bard Hail leaned over the back of Spiros’s chair, listening but making no comment.
Geros, clad in a new scaleshirt and abbreviated helm, occupied a low stool at his master’s side. He was nervously fingering the hilt of a fine saber and hoping that he looked as hard and businesslike as the two Freefighters occupying the bench which blocked the barred door.
Two more Freefighters guarded the door of the Thoheeks, who had taken a turn for the worse, while Eeshmaheel and Master Ahlee’s two servants, all armed, kept watch within.
All horses had been summoned from the pasture to stamp and snort in the crowded hall stables, while as much livestock as possible had been crowded into make-shift pens in the outer courtyard. Forgefire flared where the resident smith and his helpers labored, fashioning old tools and stray scraps of metal into arrowheads and points for dart and javelin, repairing plate from the armory, and straightening scytheblades. The heavy gate was barred and the iron grille which protected it from rams had been lowered into place, for the first time in any man’s memory. A weaponsmaster supervised several Freefighters and servants as they assembled a pair of small catapults and a large dart thrower. The remainder of the hall’s Freefighters, those of Komees Djeen and a number of armed servants, stood the walls.
A knock on the door of Bili’s chamber brought Geros and the other two guards to their feet, hands on swordhilts. When the bench was shifted and the bar removed, the knocker was discovered to be Sami Kahtuhr, majordomo of Morguhn Hall, and now castellan as well. He was an old soldier, and his new role was quite as comfortable as the infantryman’s armor he had donned.
Though grey thickly streaked his light brown hair and his face was seamed and wrinkled, he had miraculously regained a youthful appearance since Komees Djeen had had Morguhn Hall put on a war footing and all had begun to prepare for siege and battle. The little man probably had more Kindred blood flowing in his veins than most in the room, and he looked it-slight but wiry frame, flat muscles, fair skin, flashing blue green eyes. As a cadet of Clan Kahtuhr, he was ranked as a petty noble-man, his senior-servant status notwithstanding.
He marched over to stand between Komees Djeen and Bili. Although he rendered his Confederation Army salute to the younger, he rendered his report to the elder.
“My Lord, within the hour the hall will be as ready as it can be for whatever is to transpire. In addition to the noble Kindred, fifty-seven men are available. Of these, forty-five are either Freefighters or former soldiers, and the others are good men who will stand firm for the honor of Morguhn. All prisoners have been so lodged that no guard will be required, so all may man the walls if it comes to that. There is more than ample food in the magazines and near tenscore head of cattle and goats, along with threescore sheep in the main court. The numbers of fowl I know not, but they swarm near everywhere one looks, indoors and out.
“I have set those loyal servants not under arms to drawing water from the spring and the wells to fill all the cisterns. When they are done, they will set about tearing down the storage sheds outside the walls and carting the lumber within—the nearer fences as well—that we shall not lack for fuel.
“The only severe shortage will be grain and hay for the animals and the horse brothers and sisters. I sent a man to fetch back any forage that might be in Hohryos Morguhn, but he has not yet returned.”
Komees Djeen’s head bobbed a curt nod. “Very well, Feelahks, you have done well. I can but wish we had more fighters. It’s a far stretch of wall for fifty-seven men and six noble Kindred to cover.”
“Six noble Kindred?” Bili suddenly yelped. “What about me? If you think, Kinsman Djeen, that you’re going to deny me a share of the battle, just because of a bump on my head and a nick in my leg…”
Mother Mahrnee’s hand over his mouth muffled the rest. “Of course Bili will fight. And both my sister and I are adept with sling and huntingbow; nor are our boar-spears partial to only the blood of beasts.”
“Unless this be a private war,” Master Ahlee said gravely, “you may include a physician who once was a warrior in your tally. Still can I cast an accurate spear, nor am I inexperienced in matters of the sword.”
Komees Djeen grinned wolfishly. “All right, Feelahks Sami, you heard; everyone in this room will fight. You may add four more to your tallyroll.” Then, a look of sadness crept over his face and he looked again at the recumbent form on the cot. “Would Sun would allow it to be five.”
Dawn saw the Council party in the saddle. After a stirrup cup, they saw the gates close behind them and set out for Morguhnpolis at a brisk trot. In order that the hall might be the better manned, the party had been held to a bare minimum, every man of them armed to the teeth. Three hundred yards ahead of them, a single trooper rode point, his orders to return and warn, rather than fight, in the event of trouble.
Bili and Djehf rode in the van, Bili absorbed at trying to establish a decent rapport with the chestnut gelding who was Mahvros’s temporary replacement, Djehf still a little dazed at the rapid and unexpected change in his rank and status. He knew that as soon as the present troubles were resolved, he must send a messenger to Eeree, for now he was never to return. With his father inches from death and his uncle slain, Bili was virtual Thoheeks and Chief, while he was automatically Tahneest. He knew not whether to laugh or weep, so he kept his mouth tightly shut.