There were no Ahrmehnee warriors anywhere close by, and the nahkhahrah, though unquestionably brave, was not reckless. Grudgingly, he released his knife, growling. “Now, by Our Lady’s Cusps, woman, I would Her emissaries had left you and your arrogant, unnatural breed in your hold! Had I mine own way—”
“But you do not!” snapped the brahbehrnuh, coldly. “Her dread Curse lies upon her or him who first breaks our alliance. Were it not so, I and mine would long since be back where we belong. Aye, and those of your poor, downtrodden women we could free with us!”
Pale and speechless with rage, the nahkhahrah brusquely pushed past the brahbehrnuh and her guards, limped into the council house and loudly slammed the thick door behind him, shooting the bolt for good measure. Stumping to his place, he simply sat, cracking his big knuckles, his scarred face working. And seeing the bloodlust shining from his eyes, no one of the nine dehrehbehee remaining asked any questions of him.
From the moment of entry into the village of the brahbehrnuh and her hundreds of armed, armored and supercilious female warriors, there had been tension of one sort or another. Obviously, the People-of-Powers had expected the tension to lessen and so had all felt free to leave on their mission to the Muhkohee tribes, but it had worsened, if anything. For one thing, burgeoning familiarity with the Maidens had virtually dissolved the semi-superstitious awe of them which many Ahrmehnee had had; for another, the blatant attempts of many of the Maidens to foment trouble between the nahkhahrah’s tribesmen and their womenfolk or to seduce nubile maids and matrons into perverted sexual practices—which practices seemed to be endemic amongst the strutting, man—despising Maidens—had set all the Ahrmehnee warriors’ teeth on edge and had caused the nahkhahrah ceaseless difficulties in preventing outright massacre of the vastly outnumbered “allies.”
Early on, he had attempted to reason with the brahbehrnuh, had tried to persuade her to draw rein on her crudely antagonistic following, pointing out that unless she did so the only certain result would be the spilling of blood and that, considering the fact that she and hers were hundreds amidst thousands, a serious session in arms between Ahrmehnee and Maidens could end in but one way. It had been wasted breath and effort. The sow had heard him out, then insulted him, all the dehrehbehee and their Sacred Ancestors, obscenely; further, she had offered disparaging comments on all Ahrmehnee warriors, then on men in general. Then she had stalked from the council house, a mocking laugh floating behind her.
And the foul situation had worsened and worsened to the point at which the Council had had to actually execute three tribesmen who had drawn steel, in order to show the host that they were serious about maintaining the now shaky alliance. The nahkhahrah had taken to praying earnestly each night at moonrise that the People-of-Powers would soon return so that the projected invasion could get under way while he still could exercise a measure of control over his men.
Then, piling one mountain atop another, had come word that a great army, led by the Undying Devil called Meelohsh, was marching up the trade road, through the lands of the Frainyuhns, and he had bidden Dehrehbeh Hyk Frainyuhn and his tribesmen goodspeed and even reinforced them … with the worst of the troublemakers camped about.
But no plan or scheme of the unlucky young dehrehbeh had gone aright. Five times had he and his warriors set out to ambush the van of the invaders, five times had they been discovered, attacked and driven off with losses. The fifth failure had cost the life of Hyk himself, and the Frainyuhns had, predictably, withdrawn to their principal village to choose a new dehrehbeh, since the deceased had no living brothers old enough to lead.
So the nahkhahrah had sent out men to watch over the now unobstructed progress of the invading army, bidding them to keep much distance from the lowlanders, to flee if attacked and fight only if cornered. His orders had not been taken well by the Ahrmehnee, but out of respect for him they had voiced their disagreements out of his hearing.
Not so the Maidens, however. The insolent chits took to laughing at the old man whenever he rode at large, scornfully mocking his every word or gesture, frequently instigated and often led by the haughty brahbehrnuh.
But the nahkhahrah had suffered the criticism in silence, for he knew that his way was the right one. He was a very old man, far older than his appearance suggested. He had been chosen nahkhahrah when his aged father was slain fighting the lowlanders who had driven the Thirteen Tribes from the foothills and, a hundred and thirty moons later, he had led the Great Raid which had ended so disastrously at Bloody Ford.
He knew the fierce bravery of Ahrmehnee warriors and, much as he now hated the Maidens, he suspected that they might possibly be equally fine fighters. But his eyes had beheld thousands of valiant, stubborn Ahrmehnee cut down like ripe grain by the hosts of the Undying Devil. He knew that this present army slightly outnumbered his available forces. He knew that even in his own mountains victory over the invaders might well be a narrow, chancy business, and so he husbanded his fighters, seeing clearly that utter folly of frittering away irreplaceable strength in pointless harassment.
Next had come the refugees, trickling in first from the north, then from the south. At that point his control began to crumble away. Deep in his heart, he could not really blame the dehrehbehee and their tribesmen, for, had the situation been reversed, had he been a mere dehrehbeh with the sure knowledge that lowland raiders were ravaging Taishyuhn lands, he too would probably have led out his tribesmen to avenge former and prevent future inroads.
Nonetheless, with each departing tribe, his self-esteem eroded a bit more as he realized that his ability to stop the invading army became more questionable.
In sheer frustration, he beat his big fists against his muscular thighs. The cursed brahbehrnuh might well be right about her warriors and those of the Taishyuhns soon being the only fighters left here. But he vowed to himself, ere that happened, he would do something. If he could not stop the lowlanders here, he would at least dispose of the cursed Maidens. Maybe those tribes still with him could even fight or bluff their way into Maiden Valley and hold it against the Undying Devil.
None of the abashed dehrehbehee felt constrained to speak in the presence of the raging leader of their stahn, and in the silence of the familiar Council House, the nahkhahrah was able to muse on his problems undisturbed for some time. Then, as he had known it would, came an insistent pounding on the bolted door. From the sound, he imagined a sword pommel was being used on the polished hardwood.
Raising his chin from his chest, he calmly ordered, “Let the bitch in ere she splits the door. Or”—he smiled, the first smile any had seen light his seamed face in many a day—“has a tantrum and pisses her breeks.”
In the blessed release from their long tension, the dehrehbehee all roared then laughter while one of their number pulled back the bolt and the brahbehrnuh swaggered into the dim, smoky room, trailed by her two guards, as ever.
Halting at the edge of their circle, she hissed at the council members, “You dare to laugh at the brahbehrnuh of Our Lady’s Maidens?”
The smile instantly departed the nahkhahrah’s countenance and his voice crackled coldly, like river ice. “We are the men who lead the Thirteen Tribes of the Ahrmehnee Stahn. We sit in council in our own council house and here we weep or shout or whisper or laugh whenever and as we please, asking leave of no man and, certainly, of no woman.”
The brahbehrnuh stamped her foot petulantly. “I am your ally; it is the will of Her that I am your ally, and you have no right to deny me access to your councils. How do you expect me to hear what you dirty men are hatching when the door is barred against my entry?”