But once the boy was clad, it was discovered that none of the spare jazerans were small enough to fit him.
Pawl declared, “There’s like to be some hard fighting, an’ our new lord is what he seems. The lad will be dead meat, and quickly, if … wait, that pig we had the head from, his is a damned small body. Let’s have off his cuirass and see if that won’t fit our new comrade here.”
The gilded corselet proved only a little too big, while the greaved boots and the flashy helm fitted perfectly. A few more holes were punched in the swordbelt and it was buckled around the boy’s waist. Pawl found the late Stavros’s swordblade to be inferior and its hilt nought but gilded copper. He threw it in a corner, saying to one of his men, “Buhk, you, Henree, and Frehd take our dear commander’s keys and see what’s worth taking from his office, and one of you be sure to bring his small target and his shortsword for the lad.”
Lastly, the Captain drew Stavros’s dirk and tested its edge and point on a callused thumb, then handed it back to its new owner, commenting to his departing men, “You can at least trust these damned Ehleenee for that. Their swords may be all glitter and show, but then: backstabbers will be fine steel every time!”
Hahrteeos had been lashed, hand and foot, to the sturdy uprights of the ladder, and Pawl led the armored boy over to the blubbering captive. With Frahnswah translating his words, he said, “Son, we all know of the odious bondage in which this degenerate has held you. If any man owns the right to exact the suffering and death of Lord Hahrteeos, it is you. Your dirk there is a good weapon. Use it on him in any way you wish, but whatever you do do it quickly, for we all now have horses and our new lord awaits us.”
Bili shook his head sadly. They might have had a slim chance to hack through the ill-armed mob, but an uphill charge against so many mounted warriors could have but the one certain outcome.
Then, above the tumult of the rabble, came first the clatter of galloping hooves, then a swelling roar of deep voices bellowing the traditional battlecry of Freefighters:
“BLOODBLOODBLOODBLOOD” It changed, as the charging horsemen neared the rear of the mob, to “MORGUHN! DUKE BILI! MORGUHN! MORGUHN!”
In a tight column of fours, Pawl Raikuh’s veterans struck with the irresistible force of a tidal wave! The mob gave way before those flashing sabers, surging up into the lower reaches of the formal gardens, where they were met by the furious charge of Bili and the gentry. At that juncture, the mob ceased to be, dissolving into a broil of panic-stricken men and women, running, scuttling, clawing at whomever blocked their way, scurrying up sidestreets and narrow alleys, the Ehleenoee officers and priests in the van!
Komees Djeen cursed all the way back to Morguhn Hall. For in the hoorah of the charge his prisoner had either fallen or been dragged from off his horse, and they had been able to find neither hide nor hair of the traitorous Vahrohnos. Kooreeos Skiros was still captive however. He had regained consciousness and was loudly damning each and every one of them, promising dire and despicable deaths and afterlives of unspeakable torment if he was not immediately set free and returned to the city. When the subbishop’s outbursts lost their amusement value, a couple of Raikuh’s men helped Klairuhnz to gag his prisoner with a bloodcaked bandage rag and an old bowstring. Then they lashed him into the saddle of a spare horse, face to tail!
Poor Hari rode slumped in his saddle, world-heavy with his sorrows and suddenly appearing older than even Djeen. It was not so much that his wife was now definitely known to be an important member of the rebellion conspiracy, for she had always despised anything which smacked of the Kindred and hated her husband for his Horseclans blood and ways. Nor was it the defection of his younger brother, for Drehkos had ever been unpredictable in his behavior and a frequent champion of questionable people and causes. That his three unmarried daughters were probably in the thing as well was of no real importance, for since they had ceased to be children, they had been but relative strangers who happened to share his hall, board, and name.
All of these smaller sorrows of course added their own less significant weights to the burden on Hari’s laden soul, but what truly crushed the very marrow of his spirit were the last words he had had of Drehkos, ere they had left him locked in the Council Chamber with his comrades.
“It’s possible that our cause will be defeated, brother mine. But if indeed it is, you’ll have to follow your heathenish custom of succession and pass Horse Hall on to your eldest daughter’s son. Even if I die, at least I’ll have seen to it that your by-blow never profanes our father’s place. That’s right, dear loving brother, I ordered the execution of your precious Vaskos to be performed the moment we were out of sight of the hall!”
Each of them accompanied by a brace of Raikuh’s men, Spiros and Hail had cut off crosscountry to alert Kindred families in the villages and smaller halls and to get them armed and headed toward Morguhn Hall. The rest rode the road in a tight military formation, preceded by vanguards and trailed by a strong rearguard, the flanks scouted by ranging outriders. But the return trip proved uneventful. Though they rode an important thoroughfare, bathed in the sunlight of a perfect spring day, they spied not another human, either on the road or in the fields. And that in itself was significant… and ominous.
As Bili and the vanguard cleared the entry tunnel and rode into the outer courtyard, every sword within sight was raised in formal salute, such a salute as was rendered only to a highranking nobleman. He did not need to be told that his father had died during his absence and that, barring only the formality of Council approval, he was Thoheeks and Chief, in fact.
Old Sami hastened to hold his new master’s stirrup, then bowed low, saying, “He went to Wind at the highest blaze of Sacred Sun, My Lord. The bards say that that is a most blessed tune, if a chief cannot go to Wind in battle. We have clothed his husk appropriately and laid him in the great chamber, where your Lady Mothers bide with him. Shall I now conduct you there, Chief Bili?”
Bili shook his head curtly. “Later, Kinsman, I’ve much to do. For now, I want a fresh horse, one that can mind-speak better than this one. Komees Hari and Kinsman Feelos Pooleeos will be guesting with us. Also, as you can see, I’ve brought more Freefighters. There are two officers and twenty-seven men. Their commander is Captain Pawl Raikuh, a Harzburker and a gentleman. Lodge him in the Hall.
“Bard Klairuhnz has an important prisoner. Best let him be the judge of proper confinement. I’ll want six of our own Freefighters who know the country roundabouts to ride with me on an immediate scout. See first to that and to having my gear transferred to the fresh horse. And have someone fetch me a big beaker of cool wine and a bucket of water. I’m all dust, inside and out.”
Turning, he called over his brother. “Djehf, our father is gone to Wind; he lies in the great chamber. I think that I should scout the villages and the general vicinity before dark. You will be Chief until I return, but let Komees Djeen and Sami handle defense preparations. Sami knows this place from top to bottom and Komees Djeen has both besieged and been besieged, so he knows what to prepare for and against.
“See to the preparation of the pyre in the rear courtyard. It’s just too crowded out here. For now, go in and render our respects to our mothers.”
When answering Bill’s summons, Djeen found himself saluting! Though less than a third his years, this boy was suddenly radiating authority, and it just seemed natural to accept that authority. “Your orders, My Lord?”