"You can play all the word games you like," he grated, "but everyone in this room has heard the same stories I have. You and your murdering son have played fast and loose with our treaties since they day they were signed, and you've gotten away with it so far only because your son is as cowardly as he is treacherous! If he hadn't run for his life like a mongrel cur, we would have proven it was he who raped that girl and half-killed Prince Harnak for trying to stop him! But he's back now, and up to his old tricks—no doubt cutting the throats of our sentries while they sleep in time of peace! Well, this time he's gone too far—and so have you!"
"Raped—?" Bahnak began in a puzzled voice. Then his expression cleared. "Oh! You're meaning those foolish lies you and Churnazh were after spreading after Bahzell sent Farmah to me for safety! Well, it's sorry I am to have to tell you this, Halâshu, but Farmah herself is ready enough to tell what happened to her, and I'm thinking her tale won't be so very close to yours."
"Of course not! No doubt you've paid the wench enough!" Halâshu shot back, but his voice was weaker, despite his anger. He'd had no choice but to parrot the line Churnazh had adopted, ridiculous as everyone knew it to be, but he had no desire at all to hear Farmah tell her side of what had really happened.
"Aye, no doubt I have," Bahnak agreed soothingly, like a man humoring a lunatic. But then he smiled. "On the other hand, and speaking of sons and all, I was wondering if you could be telling us just where Crown Prince Harnak has taken himself to? It's been some months now since I've heard a thing at all about him." His smile vanished suddenly, and all levity disappeared. "I'm hoping his health hasn't been taking a turn for the worse," he finished in a voice of cold iron, and Halâshu flinched.
He licked his lips and darted nervous eyes around the room, but not even the other Bloody Sword envoys would return his look. No one in Navahk had received any official word of Harnak's fate... but they knew, for The Lay of Bahzell Bloody-Hand was highly popular in certain circles. No one was foolish enough to sing it where Churnazh might hear of it, but it had been enough to get Chalghaz named crown prince in Harnak's place.
Halâshu opened his mouth once more, but Bahnak had toyed with him long enough. The Navahkan had been trapped by his own untenable position into making exactly the accusations Bahnak had wanted someone to make. Now the Prince of Hurgrum came to his feet, uncoiling from his false pose of relaxation like a serpent, and glared at the hapless ambassador.
"So my son's a coward and a murderer, is he?" His voice rumbled and echoed in the hall. To his credit, Halâshu stood his ground, but his ears pressed tight to his head and his shoulders tightened. "No doubt that's the tale Churnazh would be wanting told," Bahnak went on witheringly, "but the truth's after being just a bit different, isn't it now?"
He looked away from Halâshu, sweeping all the envoys with his eyes, and this time it was he who propped his fists on his hips.
"There you stand, every one of you, half ready to be believing the lies scum like this is after telling," he said, jerking his head contemptuously at Halâshu. "How many of you are thinking his tales about Bahzell and Harnak have any truth at all, at all, in them?" he demanded. No one spoke, and he snorted. "Aye, so I thought. Yet let the same lying pile of hog dung tell you as how I've sent men to attack Churnazh in time of peace, and it's another tale, is it?" Still no one spoke, and he raised his voice. "Is it?" he barked.
"With all due respect, Your Highness, it is," someone said. The crowd parted, and another ambassador stepped to the front. Silver-haired Lady Entarath of Halk was a Bloody Sword, and her city-state was allied to Navahk, but she eyed Halâshu with undisguised contempt before she turned back to Bahnak.
"The matter of your son and Crown Prince Harnak lies solely between you and Prince Churnazh," she told him calmly. "Prince Bahzell was outlawed by Churnazh for breaking hostage bond. Under the letter of our law and traditions, that means his life is forfeit to Churnazh. Yet as you are quite well aware, given the... dispute concerning his actions, my own prince, and those of the other cities allied to him, have declined to support Churnazh's demands that Prince Bahzell be surrendered to him. But be that as it may, Your Highness, the reports of Horse Stealer attacks on Navahkan territory do not come from Lord Halâshu alone. My own sources report the same thing to me, and they, too, insist that Prince Bahzell led the attack in your name."
The hall was still and quiet. Lady Entarath was a very different proposition from Halâshu. Halk was allied with Navahk because it was a Bloody Sword city, not because its people held any love for Churnazh, and Entarath had served as ambassador to Hurgrum for Prince Thalahk, her present prince's father, for decades. She was a senior member of the hradani diplomatic corps and widely respected, even among Horse Stealers, and her calm, deliberate tone carried far more weight than Halâshu's half-hysterical posturing.
"Because those reports are so wide spread," she went on, "I now ask you formally, in the name of Prince Ranthar of Halk, whether or not they are true. Have you in fact attacked Navahk without declaration of war? Or is it possible such an attack was made without your authorization? And if so, was that attack led by Prince Bahzell?"
Bahnak gazed down at her, then looked out across the hall once more. He let the silence linger for a long, tingling moment, then returned his gaze to Entarath.
"In answer to your question, Milady," he said with grave courtesy, "neither I, nor any warrior under my command, nor yet any warrior of mine acting without my leave or let, has attacked the army or people of Navahk."
A rippling sigh of relief went up from half the envoys, to be answered by a buzz of disbelief from the other half, but Bahnak raised his hand.
"Nonetheless," he went on, "Horse Stealer warriors were after crossing into Navahk last week... and my son Bahzell was at their head."
Shocked silence fell at the admission. It lay upon the hall like a fog bank for endless seconds, and then Halâshu broke it.
"But you said—!" he began furiously.
"I said as how no warrior under my command was after attacking that scum-eating, fornicating, base-born bastard you call prince!" Bahnak snapped "And no more did they! Nor was it me who had the sending of them into Navahk!"
He nodded curtly to a guard, and the man reopened the door through which he and his children had entered the hall. The movement drew every eye, and a chorus of gasps echoed as Bahzell walked through it, followed by his cousin Hurthang, his foster brother Gharnal, and half a dozen other Horse Stealers. Every one of them wore a green surcoat over a chain or scale hauberk, and the seamstresses of Bahnak's household had stayed up late embroidering the sword and mace of Tomanāk onto each of them. That should have been enough to make any one of the envoys gasp in surprise, but it hardly even registered at first, for two humans—one a golden-haired young man and the other a raven-haired woman—in the same surcoats accompanied them... and so did perhaps a dozen prisoners, most of whom were clearly Bloody Swords.
Bahzell led the way, hands tucked unthreateningly into his belt, but the envoys and armsmen in his path began backing away the instant they saw his eyes. Even Halâshu stepped back, swallowing hard, as he found himself face-to-face with the man he'd just finished accusing of rape, cowardice, and treachery. Only Lady Entarath and her armsman stood their ground, and Bahzell nodded courteously to her as his followers and their prisoners flowed forward into the space his mere presence had cleared for them.
"These are the men—some of them, at least—as you've heard so many tales about," Prince Bahnak said quietly, seating himself once more upon his throne. "And though it's proud I am to call them Horse Stealers, aye, and warriors of Clan Iron Axe, they're no longer mine to command, for they've sworn their swords to another... as my son has." He turned to look at Halâshu with an expression of withering contempt. "I've no doubt at all, at all, you'll recognize the symbols of Tomanāk , Milord Ambassador. So perhaps you'd be so very kind as to be repeating now the tale you and your 'prince' have been after telling for nigh on six months? It's interested I'll be to hear you accuse a champion of Tomanāk of rape and murder and cowardice to his face!"