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Vaijon shook his head, conceding the point. Of course, they hadn't yet sworn any of the other Horse Stealer recruits to full membership in the Order, either. Irregular as Bahzell's attitude towards rules might be in most respects, he was determined to get the Hurgrum chapter properly organized. In part, Vaijon suspected, that was because he expected it to be greeted with profound reservations, even by its sister chapters (when they discovered its existence), and so he wanted to be certain every procedural concern had been covered. More importantly, however, he was determined to be as certain as possible that all of its members had true vocations for the Order, and so he had insisted each new member must serve a minimum of a three-month novice period before he—or she—would be permitted to swear Sword Oath and become a probationer of the Order.

Unfortunately, that same delay had given some of the original Horse Stealer members—particularly Gharnal—time for some of the awe of Tomanāk's visitation to work its way through their system. It wasn't that they felt any less reverence, but as they got further away in time from the direct impact of His presence, the old Horse Stealer-Bloody Sword rivalry had reasserted itself. In less than two months, the first Bloody Sword recruits would have completed their novitiates and be eligible to swear Sword Oath, and Hurthang wasn't the only Horse Stealer who worried about what would happen then.

"No, we haven't let them swear Sword Oath." Vaijon spoke evenly, holding Hurthang's eyes with his own. "But I was under the impression that that was to give them time to be certain of their vocations, not as a way to show our distrust of them."

Hurthang flushed darkly, and his ears folded halfway down against his skull. He opened his mouth quickly, then shut it again and grabbed up his beer, instead. He took a long, deep pull, and Vaijon went on in a more soothing tone.

"It's not that I don't understand your concerns, Hurthang. I do. But Bahzell is right about who the Order must accept, and I'd be inclined to think anyone would hesitate to offer Sword Oath if they meant to break it, given that Tomanāk appeared in person to acknowledge us as His own. I mean, Halâshu, at least, knows that's exactly what happened, and if he's managed to convince Churnazh of the truth, then I'd think neither of them would want to risk angering the God. They've got enough problems already, the way this war is shaping up, without turning His favor against them. And whatever they might want, I'd think finding someone who would come here at their orders and personally foreswear himself would be even harder."

"Umph." It was Hurthang's turn to lean back, and he rubbed his jaw. "Aye," he admitted at last, grudgingly, "it could be there's something in that. Tomanāk knows you're like as not right about Halâshu, any road. But Churnazh, now... Churnazh is after being another pot of stew. He's one as might just decide he's in so deep he's naught to worry about in making it deeper, if you take my meaning."

"So I've gathered; that's why I said I didn't know what he might do." Vaijon sipped beer, then lowered the mug and looked Hurthang in the eye once more. "But I do know it's awfully hard to lie to a champion of Tomanāk... and that I wouldn't want to be the one who swore Sword Oath falsely!"

A rustle of agreement ran around the hall, and Hurthang's ears cocked. He darted a glance at Bahzell, but Bahzell only smiled and flicked the fingers of a raised hand at Vaijon, explicitly resigning the conversation to him. Hurthang's eyes narrowed, but then he nodded slightly. Ever since Tomanāk had taken Vaijon's oath, Bahzell had persistently if unobtrusively thrown the young man deeper and deeper into the organization of the new chapter. And it was taking some throwing, Hurthang reflected. The fact that all of its original members had actually seen their deity accept Vaijon's champion's oath lent his opinions a weight he himself had not yet recognized, but it was obvious he was uncomfortable at putting himself forward. Not unsure about his responsibilities or his own relationship to Tomanāk , but cautious lest anyone think he was taking too much upon himself—especially as one of the only two humans in Hurgrum.

"So you're saying we should be having them swear Sword Oath as soon as ever they ask to join us here?" Hurthang asked finally.

"No. Bahzell's right about that, too, especially since this is the first hradani chapter. Any recruits have to be given time to train with us and see all that's involved—and be certain of their own minds—before they make binding commitments. But I think we'd certainly be justified in asking them to state all of their reasons for coming here before the chapter's full brethren... and under oath of truth to Tomanāk ."

"Oath to Tomanāk , is it?" Hurthang murmured, and it was his turn to smile crookedly. Even those with the least use for the Gods of Light hesitated to swear falsely by Tomanāk's name. The War God didn't like people who did that, and rumor credited him with a tendency to let them get killed the next time the opportunity arose.

"That's not such a bad idea at all, Hurthang," Bahzell put in after a moment. "Though it might be best all 'round if it wasn't me as took their oaths." Hurthang looked at him, and he shrugged. "Come what may, I'm still Father's son, and if it should happen as we did have someone Churnazh wanted put in amongst us as a spy, why, I've no doubt at all he'd feel all over justified lying to me about it, oath or no."

"I suppose," Hurthang grumbled, and then turned a baleful look back on Vaijon. "Bahzell's the right of it there," he told the young human. "Say what we will, there's some as would never believe we weren't after being Uncle Bahnak's men if Bahzell were taking their oaths. But that means it would have to be you."

"Me?" Vaijon sat up straighter, eyebrows arching, and Hurthang shrugged.

"We're talking of hradani here, Vaijon, and a good fourth part of 'em Bloody Swords," he explained with exaggerated patience. "And we've just allowed as how Bahzell can't be swearing them in. Well, no more can I, for I'm close enough kin to him to make me suspect, as well, and the same for Gharnal—assuming he could be keeping his sword sheathed long enough for a Bloody Sword as wasn't already a member of the Order to be saying two words in a row to him! And that, my lad, is leaving us you and Kerry, and would you be so very kind as to tell me just how you think a Bloody Sword would be after reacting to a woman warrior as wants his oath?"

"I don't really see the problem," Vaijon said after a few seconds' thought. This time Hurthang's eyebrows went up in surprise, and Vaijon shrugged. "I'm sure they'd have reservations about her as a warrior, but as you just pointed out yourself, we are talking about hradani. And just who do you people use to administer most of your oaths or judge cases at law?"

"You're right enough there, lad," Bahzell said before his cousin could reply, "but I'm thinking you've missed Hurthang's point. Our women are after being judges and lawyers, aye, and ambassadors and councilors, as well. But they've never been war leaders—not even amongst us Iron Axes—and there's likely not a dozen Bloody Swords in all the world as would even consider giving Oath to Tomanāk to such."

"Then they'd better not tell me about it," Vaijon said ominously. "If Kerry's not good enough for them, then—"

"You've been amongst hradani too long, Vaijon!" Hurthang interrupted with a laugh. "There's ways to settle things without swords, and I'm sure that once you've done explaining matters to 'em all right and proper there's not a one of 'em would question Kerry's right to be here. Aye, and if they were to be so inclined, she'd not need the likes of you—or me!—to be trimming out their ears for coin purses her own self." Vaijon blushed, then grinned, and Hurthang shrugged. "But the point is, until they've met her, there's not a one of them would be realizing what she truly is—or believing it, any road. So unless you're minded to cut 'em into collops and be done with it, you'd best make allowances for their prejudices when you're after asking them to swear that first oath."

"It doesn't have to be you or Bahzell," Vaijon protested. "It could be Harkhar or Aerich or Shalach or—"

"Good lads, all of them, and all of 'em hradani," Bahzell agreed for Hurthang. "But not a one of them a champion, and that's after leaving us with only one choice... Milord Champion."

Vaijon closed the mouth he'd just reopened and glared at Bahzell. Then he sighed.

"All right," he agreed. "I'll do it."