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At the moment, Marglyth and Maritha were elsewhere—no doubt, Bahzell thought, analyzing the initial response to his own return—but Sharkah, Halah, and Adalah helped Arthanal entertain his friends while he and his father talked and Barodahn listened.

"We'd Farmah's and Tala's word for the first bit of your... um, disagreement with Harnak, of course," Bahnak went on, flicking his ears to where the girl Bahzell had rescued from Harnak sat with Sharkah, talking very shyly to Vaijon while Bahzell's sister chattered nonstop at Kaeritha, "and we've heard the song for the rest."

"Song?" Bahzell let his own tankard clunk back onto the table and looked at his father suspiciously. "And what song would that have been?"

"I think they're after calling it The Lay of Bahzell Bloody-Hand or some such foolishness," his father said, with a glance at Barodahn for confirmation. Bahzell's brother nodded, and Bahnak looked back at him. "Why? I thought it a bit pompous, myself, and the third verse doesn't scan at all, but it's not so bad a song as all that. In fact, most folk seem to find it a bit catchy. I can have old Thorfa sing it for you if you've not heard it," he offered.

He started to raise his hand to catch his court bard's eye, but Bahzell caught his wrist with a bit more haste than courtesy, and he looked at his son in surprise.

"It's a kindly thought, Da," Bahzell said through gritted teeth, "but I'm thinking I have heard the one you mean a time or two. And if it's all the same to you, I'd sooner not be hearing it again just now. It might seem a bit prideful, you know."

"Well, as you will," Bahnak agreed, sitting back once more, and Bahzell's teeth ground harder as he saw the faintest twinkle in the backs of his father's eyes. It was all he could do not to turn and glare at Brandark, but the gesture might be misconstrued by one of Prince Bahnak's guards, with potentially lethal consequences for the Bloody Sword. Not, Bahzell thought darkly, that lethal consequences for Brandark didn't hold a certain wistful attraction just at the moment.

"Mother likes it," Barodahn offered suddenly.

"Aye, she does that," Bahnak confirmed, and this time the twinkle was pronounced. "You should see her coming all misty-eyed with pride whenever Thorfa's after playing it." His ears flicked impishly, and, despite himself, Bahzell chuckled. "Would your friend yonder have been having anything to do with it?" Bahnak inquired, gesturing slightly in Brandark's direction, and Bahzell sighed.

"Aye. The little man's no singing voice at all, at all, but he's a damnable hand for setting songs you'd sooner see die an early death to tunes no one can forget."

"And a bit of a wit to him, too, I'd say," Bahnak agreed. He stretched out his legs, crossed his ankles, and regarded his son from under thoughtful brows. "I'll tell you true, boy. I was none too pleased to be hearing as how one of my sons had been after taking up with a Bloody Sword. Come to that, I was even less pleased when the first tales of you and Harnak started coming in. I hadn't thought you totally daft when I sent you to Navahk, but damned I was if I could be seeing any other answer for your mixing in the whole affair. She was naught but a serving wench, when all was said, and there you were, throwing over your hostage bond and like to be after starting the war all over again before I'd had time to make all ready for it—and losing your head into the bargain! Oh, aye, boy. I was ready enough to skin you out and salt you down my own self, if it so chanced Churnazh missed you... until Farmah and Tala reached Hurgrum with the true tale."

He fell silent, left hand playing with the golden chain he wore to mark his rank while his right held his tankard. He took another long, slow swallow, then shook his head.

"But once I'd had time to be looking it over from all angles, as it were, it came to me that you'd done well, lad," he said very quietly. "Not too smartly, perhaps, but you made me proud you were after being my son."

Bahzell met his father's gaze steadily, but his eyes burned. Those two sentences meant more to him than all the other praise of a lifetime, and he knew his father and brother saw it in his face, for they looked away and gave him time to compose himself.

"Well," he said finally, "I did remember as how you'd always said a man looks after his own in this world, and lucky he is if he can do it. I'd not thought it through then, but it came to me that perhaps 'his own' was after taking in just a bit more people than I'd first supposed you meant."

"It was that," Bahnak agreed with a slow smile, "but it's not so very wise to be letting those as wish you ill realize that it does, now is it?"

"No. No, I can be seeing that, especially for someone as sits on a throne—or likely will one day," Bahzell added with a glance at Barodahn.

"Aye." His father sipped more ale, and his eyes were somber when he lowered the tankard once more. He set it very precisely on the table and propped his right elbow on the arm of his chair while he leaned his chin into his palm. His ears shifted in slow thought, and he frowned.

"Truth to tell, Bahzell, and glad as I am to be having Farmah as another daughter, it's the other part of Harnak's doings as makes me most uneasy. Is it certain you are of your facts, lad? It's not that I'm inclined to be doubtful of your word, but I'd not want to be making charges as later turn out false. That's one way to be losing the faith of your own allies and warriors quick as quick, and it's a mistake I've so far managed not to make. I'd sooner not be starting now."

"Aye, Father. I'm certain," Bahzell said heavily. "I saw the Scorpion with my own two eyes when Harnak and I were blade-to-blade, and I heard its scream as he died." His voice was harsh, and his father and brother shuddered at whatever they saw in his eyes. "Even if I'd not seen it then, I'd've known later," he went on after a moment. "There's sides to being a champion of Tomanāk as are hard to put into words, but since I took Sword Oath to himself I've... sensed things, I suppose, as I'd never've guessed were there to be sensed before, and I had the handling of Harnak's sword after his death." This time it was Bahzell who shuddered, and he closed his eyes briefly.

"Sharnā's there, Father. Whether Churnazh is after knowing he is—that's another matter. But Demon Breath's there, right enough... and though I'm too far from it to be certain of it just this minute, I've more than a suspicion that once I've come close enough to his lair, I'll scent it like a hound on a blood trail. There's a stink to Sharnā's work as no one could mistake who's ever smelled it."

"I'll not lie to you, Bahzell," Bahnak said after another long, thoughtful moment. "All this talk of gods and demons and wizards and such—it's enough to make a man come all over bilious." He spoke almost lightly, but his tone fooled neither of his sons. "I've a war to fight—the biggest of my life, or of any of ours—and not a one at all of any of my plans considered such as that. If I had my own way in it, I'd be closing my eyes and ears and letting Light and Dark see to their own coils while I got on with the taking of Churnazh's head once and for all. But—"

He sighed, then shrugged and looked wryly at his youngest son.

"You do have a way with you, don't you just, Bahzell?" He chuckled. "I remember the first day you ever discovered a river, and the muddy, soaked-rat mess of you when Barodahn fetched you up off the bottom. I was set to take the hide right off you for the fright you'd given your mother—aye, and me, too! And do you know why I didn't?"

"No," Bahzell said. "My memory's not so clear as all that. I know I'd expected you to thrash me within an inch of my life. Aye, and it was in my mind I had it coming, as well. But aside from that—?" He shrugged and raised his own tankard.

"The reason I didn't thrash you was that you looked me right in the eye, and you said, 'I'd not've fallen in if you'd've told me it was there, Da. And I'd not've sunk if you'd've taught me how to swim. And I'll have you know I'd almost figured it out for my own self when Barry fetched me out, so if you'll just be getting on with the thrashing, I'd like to go back and try again.' "

Bahnak shook his head with a chuckle, and Bahzell choked on ale as his father's words brought the entire scene back to him. He sputtered for several seconds while Bahnak pounded him helpfully on the back, then shook his finger at his father.