Leaning between the merlons, Bili shouted down to the Freefighter bugler, “You, trooper! Sound first the Officers’ Call, then the Assembly!”
The Freefighter had not completed the first call ere the young Thoheeks was down from the tower and racing along the wallwalk toward the hall. The large central chamber was still filling up when he arrived, buckling on his gorget, the straps of his hastily donned cuirass dangling loose. As he gained the dais and strode to his place at the high table, Komees Djeen stumped up to confront him, angrily demanding:
“Now just what in hell do you think you’re up to? Have you no respect for the rites due your father and the honors for your poor, brave brother?”
“Who would not be dead, remember, had I not, against my better judgment, heeded your overly cautious advice and given into his leadership the raid I planned and should have led!” Ice crackled in Dili’s voice and stare, and his tone brooked no argument. “Now you heed me, Lord Djeen, and heed me well, for I shall not repeat my words! You are a man grown old in war and there is much I may learn from you, but I will learn when and as I wish to learn, not at your pleasure!
“Sacred Sun has made of me your rightful lord, not the reverse. Do not delude yourself into the belief that I will longer tolerate your browbeating. In the future, you will either obey my orders, or you have my leave to forthwith depart my presence! I tell you this before the face of Him who is the Ancient God of our ancestors and present overlord of us all.
“I know that you have meant well and that command is become habitual with you, but you have left me no choice, Lord Djeen. You must realize that although you are a Count and have been a General, I am a Duke and, my age notwithstanding, your temporal superior!
“Am I understood, Lord Djeen?”
“Perfectly, My Lord Thoheeks.” The Komees’s, words came as stiff as his military posture, but his eye showed grudging respect. “I await your orders.”
“Very good,” Bili nodded, then signed Raikuh’s lieutenant to do up the loose straps of his armor while he spoke on. “Our erstwhile besiegers are breaking camp and withdrawing in some haste. Even as I quitted the watch-tower, a large body of cavalry forded the creek and rode west, toward Morguhnpolis, I assume. Without horsemen to protect them, those rebel foot will be ripe for the slaughter and I mean to butcher me as many as I can lay axe to.
“You and Kinsman Sami will again have command of the hall. I will leave you Kinsman Vaskos, the six walking wounded, and your personal Freefighters.”
Wordlessly, the old Strahteegos saluted, turned about, and stumped off, trailed by Vaskos and the castellan.
“Chief Hwahltuh, Captain Raikuh, get your men armed and mounted. Ill expect the column to be formed up and ready in fifteen minutes.”
The little Chief whooped delightedly, vaulted the table, and sped toward the door, his shouting, laughing clansmen close behind him. Raikuh nodded his acknowledgment and saluted, but even he could not repress a grin.
Komees Hari stepped forward. “Bili … uh, My Lord Thoheeks, I may be old, but…”
Bili smiled warmly. “But you’re not too old to swing a sword, eh? I had no thought of leaving you and our other Kinsmen behind, Lord Hari. It is only because he is wounded that I ordered your son to remain. But all of you hurry and get armed, for I want no unnecessary delay. I want to rout those bastards!”
When the nobles were gone, only Milo and Master Ahlee remained with Bili on the dais. “And I?” inquired the whiterobed physician. “What would the Lord Thoheeks have me to do?”
Bili smiled again. “Whatever you wish, Lord Ahlee, for you have served me and my House well. I know you to be a stark warrior, for all that you profess to be a man of peace. You may remain with your patients or you may ride with me.”
Ahlee’s gentle smile answered Bili’s. “Young Eeshmaheel is become as accomplished a physician as am I.
Indeed, he already has a Volunteer apprentice, so the wounded here can receive no better care from me. I had long forgotten how exhilarating is combat. I will fetch my blade and see to my horse.”
“And me, Bili?” inquired Milo.
The smile slipped from the young Thoheeks’ face. “Who am I to give orders to My Lord?” he answered uncomfortably, the memory of his attempt to execute this more-than-man still painfully fresh in his mind.
“No, Bili,” Milo mindspoke. “Put that from your thoughts. I knew your intention and could easily have stopped you, had I so desired.
“But that was last night. May I ride with your force this morning?”
“Any sound horse in my stables is yours, My Lord,” Bili silently assured him. “I will be most honored to do whatever the High Lord commands.”
Milo grinned. “Remember that promise, Bili; for are you truly that which I believe you to be. I have great plans for you.
“But for now, for a little while longer, think of me only as your distant-Kinsman Klairuhnz, and command me as you would him. You see, young Bili, the life of a High Lord is often boring, and I must return to that life soon enough.
“Now,” he smiled, “shall we go and see if that witchman’s big chestnut is the charger he claims to be?”
About the Author
Robert Adams lives in Seminole County, Florida. Like the characters in his books, he is partial to fencing and fancy swordplay, hunting and riding, good food and drink. And when he is not hard at work on his next science fiction novel, Robert may be found slaving over a hot forge to make a new sword or busily reconstructing an historically accurate military costume.