Tried to ram down our throats, thought Bili, who sometimes of late had had to forcefully remind himself that this supercilious man had sat his horse knee to knee with him and the High Lord last summer at the Forest Bridge, and had suffered grievous wounds in his behalf. Ever since the vahrohneeskos had recovered sufficiently to join the army before Vawnpolis, he had been a divisive element among the nobles of Morguhn, immediately taking the part of any who opposed the young thoheeks and offering his own opposition when none other arose.
“Kinsman,” said Bili, with as much forebearance and patience as he could muster, “none of us could have known that affairs would so arrange themselves, and it was the High Lord himself who rejected the first effort of the rebels to parley, ere the siege had even commenced. Him it was who first declared that we were to neither give nor ask quarter—”
“Untrue!” snapped Ahndros coldly. “To the extent, at least, that it was you, with your barbaric, blood-hungry, northern notions of conduct, who put the idea into the High Lord’s head.”
Bili shook his shaven poll bewilderedly. “Kinsman, I am afraid that you credit me with far more influence over the affairs of the mighty than ever I have owned … or wished to own.”
“Have you not, my lord?” Ahndros sneered. “Did not the High Lord, on the morning which saw the breaking of the siege of your hall, allow you first to throw a childish temper tantrum and publicly, brutally, humiliate Komees Djeen, when he sagely advised you to await the arrival of Confederation Cavalry ere you pursued the rebels? Did not the High Lord then accompany you on that pursuit, riding as but another nobleman under your command?”
“That was the High Lord’s expressed desire, vahrohneeskos” growled Bili, fighting to control the temper he could feel beginning to fray under the continued insult and insubordination.
“Then what of that morning’s butchery, eh?” Ahndros prodded on. “Why, even the barbarian mercenaries, on whom you so dote, call those miles of massacre The Bloody Ride’! The High Lord I knew, with whom and under whom I served for so many years, would never have countenanced such inexcusable savageries.”
The knuckles stood out whitely on Bili’s clenched fists and he grated his reply from between tight-locked teeth. “Lord Ahndros, I owe you no explanation of my conduct or of the High Lord’s. You forget your place and station, and you sorely try my patience. Nonetheless, I will tell you this much: I believe that the scope and the suddenness of the rebellion, the depth of the depravaties of the rebels, shocked the High Lord to his very core. On that morning, he admonished me to put down the Morguhn rebels in the manner of Harzburk, deal with them as would the Iron King, under whose tutelage I served more than half my life.”
Ahndros either failed to notice or chose to ignore the young thoheek’s rising rage. “And you took Lord Milo at his word, didn’t you? You did it up brown! No unwashed, stinking, illiterate, barbarian burk lord could have been more callously thorough. Not only did you and your howling savages chase down and slay hundreds of fleeing men, many of them completely unarmed, that terrible morning, but you hunted the poor bastards for weeks, hunted them as if they had been beasts, dangerous vermin.”
Spiros Morguhn turned himself enough to see Ahndros, grimacing with the pain of the effort. “Dangerous vermin, is it, Ahndee? Yes, I consider that an apt simile for treacherous, backbiting dogs who turn on masters. I, too, took a most willing part in that hunt. Are you going to name me a burk barbarian, too? And I agree with Bili, you’ve far overstepped yourself … for some little time now.”
Komees Djeen clashed the brass hook which had replaced the missing hand on his left wrist loudly against his thigh plate, and his single, blue eye flashed fire as he came to Ahndros’ defense. “I think me not, Spiros. Ahndee is but stating truths which long have needed airing.
“As I affirmed in the very beginning, that pursuit from Morguhn Hall was a senseless and savage vanity of our young and vastly inexperienced thoheeks. And what followed the reoccupation of deserted Morguhnpolis was inexcusable, on any grounds.
“Why, man, the Duchy of Morguhn lies more than half depopulated. Whole villages were burned to the ground, after being plundered by the arsonists. There are damned few living common women who are not well-raped widows, damned few Morguhn trees that don’t dangle the rotting carcass of some poor, misled peasant pikeman.
“You all know that I … uhh, had my differences with our late thoheeks. But Hwahruhn, at least, was loved and respected by all his folk. Bili, his son, will never own anything save their fear and hate.”
Bili smiled humorlessly. “Regrettably, my late father was often ill and almost always weak-willed, Komees Djeen. As you have learned, I am neither. If love and respect bred this damned rebellion, I can well do without both.
“As regards the ‘airing of truths,” had not you and the vahrohneeskos so well served me and the Confederation, of late, I might think you both closet rebels, such is your concern for the gentle treatment and welfare of traitors.”
“Why, you arrogant young whelp!” The white-haired nobleman sprang to his feet, his hand going to his swordhilt “I was serving the Confederation when you were being given suck! How dare you question my loyalty … or that of Ahndee, who is a better man than ever you’ll be!”
Dark, slender Djaik Morguhn sidled himself to block the direct path between his brother and the furious komees. Nor was he the only one in the pavilion to have risen. Vaskos Daiviz, son and heir of Komees Hari, stood fingering the pommel of his broadsword; so, too, did all three Freefighter officers … and Sir Geros.
Arising suddenly, old Komees Hari Daiviz slapped his son’s hand from proximity to his hilt and strode purposefully toward the dais, his rolling gait bespeaking the percentage of his fifty-odd years spent on the back of a horse.
“Now, by Sun and Wind, gentlemen, I never thought me to live to see my own kindred, the nobility of Morguhn, brawling like drunken Ehleenee trollops and pimps!
“Djaik Morguhn, resume your seat, please. Your brother stands in no danger. Djeen, if you draw that blade, you’ll be needing a hook for the other hand, as well … and you have known me long enough to know I mean it.”
“Damn it, Hari!” the one-eyed komees burst out petulantly. “You heard what this young whippersnapper said about me and Ahndee! And we’ve the right to be heard!”
“Just shut up and sit down!” Komees Hari snapped impatiently. “You’ve said more than enough already.”
Ahndros opened his mouth, but Komees Hari spotted the movement from the corner of his eye and whirled on the vahrohneeskos, barking, “So, too, have you, Ahndee. This be a war council, not a Thirds Meeting. You, all of us, are here to receive our chief’s orders, to advise him if he requests such. And I’ve heard no request.
“Now, I don’t much cotton to the idea of granting amnesty to rebel dogs, but the High Lord has no choice; that much is plain as horse turds on snow. Nor have any of us any choice, gentlemen. The High Lord has given his orders to his thoheeksee; our own thoheeks and chief has dutifully transmitted those orders to us. It be our sworn and rightful duty to learn how best we can obey, not launch yet another senseless round of who-struck-Djahn to the point where tempers rise and swords come clear. We all be supposedly responsible, adult noblemen and officers. Let us act the parts, eh?”
He turned to Bili and offered formal salute of clansman to chief. “What would you of my son and me, Bili?”
Drehkos Daiviz did not really begin to believe it until the third message arrow was brought to him. Carefully, he unrolled the vellum bound behind the hollow brass head, smooth it out and laid it beside the two others on his cluttered desktop. The three were identical, obviously written by the same hand.