by Robert Adams
Her demeanor and tone became serious, then. "Thoheeks Bili will do nothing of a foolish or hostile nature to Free fighter Bohreegahd Hohguhn… not if he be truly the shrewd and sagacious chief that all believe him, that I would hope the man I have honored with my love to be.
"Besides, Hohguhn has no faintest germ of an idea that you had aught to do with bemusing those two would-be murderers. He thinks they must have been drunk or had mixed hemp juice with their tobacco. And this seems to have been the consensus of those who watched the combat from within Behreezburk.
"I can understand and appreciate your desire to keep the way you really triumphed a secret, since in Harzburk the knowledge that you had so slain three men might have seen you haled up before a Swordcouncil on charges of dishonorable conduct and witchcraft; nor would the owner of such unheard-of powers be either knighted or invested with the Order of the Bear of Harzbruk.
"But, sweetheart, if ever again you return to the Middle Kingdoms, it will be as but a visiting nobleman from another realm. Nor will you, if ever that day comes, wish to display your bear, since, at the conclusion of this present unpleasantness, Milo means to see you wear a cat."
At his stunned expression, her laughter pealed once more. "Oh, poor Bili, you look as if smitten with your own great axe." She sobered and her voice softened perceptibly. "But if anyone in this duchy deserves a cat, it is you, my love; so says the Undying High Lord Milo of Morai. Though bemused by a blow on the helm toward the end, he was conscious during the whole of that fight you commanded at what-do-you-call-it Bridge, and he avows that seldom in all his centuries of life has he witnessed such feats of prowess and selfless valor as you displayed, Bili."
She moved closer and, taking his big hand in both her smaller ones, said softly, "And the Undying Lady Aldora will be both happy and deeply honored to take part in your investiture, my own thoheeks, and she will feel fierce pride when all the capital sees you ride your great horse forward to salute your High Lord, hear him recount your glorious exploits to the assembled Holders of the Cat, then receive from his hands the jeweled symbol of the Confederation's gratitude. But I alone will know that there be far more to this newest member of the Order of the Cat than only courage and expertise at war. I win know that your stark ferocity be tempered with tenderness, your bravery with love. My only regret will be then, as it now is, that all the wonders we share must so soon end…" Her voice broke then, trailed off, her shoulders and head drooped.
"But why," he demanded brusquely, "why must our… our love end, Aldora? I can let my brother, Tchahrlee, rule Morguhn, can have him declared thoheeks and chief, can come to Kehnooryos Atheenahs and be with you as long as I live!"
"Yes, my Bili, as long as you live." She raised her head, brushing her long black hair away from her heart-shaped, now tear-streaked, face, fixed his hurt and angry blue eyes with the gaze of her black, swimming eyes. "And each new day would see my love for you grow in depth and intensity, and each new day would see you one day older, one day closer to death. And as advancing age set hateful teeth to gnawing painfully at that splendid body, I would be the same as I am now. And you could not but resent such an injustice, my love, and so even as my love for you increased, your love .would be souring from resentment to dislike to hate and— no, be still, let me finish.
"I know what you were going to say, the denials you were about to make, but please believe me, love, I know the truth of what I have said, for I have seen and experienced it… many times. If we Undying be truly cursed, as the Ehleen priests avow, this be the curse: an endless time of loneliness with but brief, tantalizing snatches of real happiness or love.
"Then there is this, Bili. You are a rare man, a rare and , wonderful combination of assets. It would be the most terrible of misdeeds not to bend every effort of will in persuading you to breed soon and often, that your precious strain may be carried on to the enrichment and glory of the Confederation in coming generations. Nothing would give me more joy than to be able to bear your sons and daughters, sweet love, but we Undying can neither sire nor conceive, even among ourselves.
"And so, my Bili, you and I have a year or two, mayhap even three, but then Milo and Mara and my own conscience will insist that we get you wedded and bedded to some Kindred maids of good mindspeak stock and proven fertility."
All at once, she threw her wiry, well-formed body against his with such force that she bore him onto his back. Savagely, she ground her mouth on his lips, while her hands frantically grasped and kneaded his body, mindspeaking, "Oh, my own dear love, three years is so very little time, let us not waste a second of it Oh, love me, Bili, please, please love me!"
Slowly, the late or delayed noblemen trickled into Morguhnpolis and, by the waning of the Wine Moon, all the thoheeks of the archduchy were assembled, along with most of the Kindred and Ehleenee landholders—all save Thoheeks Djehs of Vawn and his kin.
And this last very nearly precipitated strife amidst those assembled, since it was necessary that a surrogate be named to fill the chair of the missing duke. As it was quite likely, judging from the testimonies of those few Vawnee taken alive, that the surrogate would be confirmed Thoheeks of Vawn in the end, and as Vawn was a rich duchy, what with its mines and high leas full of sheep and goats, all of the great nobles proposed a younger son or a favored kinsman for the needed surrogate. But to approve one would be to offend all the rest, and Milo could see this enterprise—organized to promote unity amongst the nobles. Kindred or Ehleenee—dissolving into hotheaded recriminations and, possibly, blood feuding.
Bill of Morguhn arose from his place at the council table. "My Kindred, I, too, wish to propose a surrogate for Thoheeks Vawn of revered memory."
Thoheeks Hwil of Dailee of Blue Mountain smiled tightly, his bald pate reflecting as much lamplight as Bill's shaven one. "We are sure you do, young Morguhn. But you must realize that after the reconquest of Vawn, a man with both a strong hand and mature judgment is going to be needed in that duchy. All your brothers are just too young."
Bili's wolf grin answered the old thoheeks' smile. "Just so, Kindred, just so. That is why I propose Chief Hwahltuh of Sanderz as surrogate Thoheeks Vawn."
While the "noble gentlemen" shouted, snarled, cursed, pounded the tabletop and similarly carried out their polite discussion of the proposal of Morguhn, Milo mindspoke Bili on a level to which none of the others could attain.
"Why the Sanderz, Bili? Because he seems intent on wedding one of your mothers, or simply because you like him?"
"Neither," replied the young duke. "Who my mothers choose to wed is their affair. And while I respect the Sanderz for his fighting skills, his leadership abilities and his horsemanship, among other things, I sometimes find him a damned hard man to stomach. So I can't say that I like him.
"No, I am just weary unto death of this squabbling, this senseless wrangling over Vawn. When first I met most of these men, I was almost in awe of them, but this business has shown me their other guises. They're like wild dogs snarling and snapping over a rotted carcass.
"Since Chief Hwahltuh be True Kindred, my lord, why not give him and his clan Vawn? Why make him go on to Kehnooryos Atheenahs to swear his oaths to you when he can do so here? Admittedly, I be ignorant of many of the finer points of custom and the Law of the Tribe, but this course seems practical and, if we act now, mayhap we can get this war done by harvest time."
Milo mindspoke dryly, "But how to get such practicality across to your peers? Be not too harsh in your judgment of them, though, Bili; the chiefs who were their many-times-grandsires were no less petulant and quarrelsome, yes, and just as grasping at times."
"ENOUGH!" snapped the ahrkeethoheeks disgustedly. "Our young Kinsman's proposal is the best I expect to hear. I, for one, am in favor of immediately adopting it. I say we name Chief Hwahltuh surrogate Thoheeks Vawn. To simplify matters, why not combine the names—Thoheeks and Chief of Vawn-Sanderz. Eh?"
Squat, muscular, black-haired Thoheeks Djaimzos of Duhnkin slapped horny pal
m to table. "Not so fast, Kinsman, not so fast! Part of the Agreements of Confederation states, if I recall properly, that new-come clans will not be given the lands or any parts thereof already settled by Kindred. The High Lord may correct me if I be wrong, but I believe that he has, in times past, given such newcomers recently subdued .border lands for their duchies; in fact, I think Vawn was originally one such, years agone.
"No, we must look amongst the old, established Kindred for a proper surrogate, and I can think of none better than my brother Tanist Petros' son-in-law, Vahrohneeskos Ahrktos Baikuhr.
"That dimwit?" snorted Thoheeks Hari of Baikuh, his brick-red mustachios quivering, his gray eyes flashing. "My cousin—my own mother's sister's son—he be, yet I must tell you that Cousin Ahrktos cannot find his arse with both hands! Quite frankly, we had almost despaired of finding a noble Kinsman stupid enough to suffer a daughter to marry the moron, until"—he grinned slyly—"we lucked onto the House of Dubnkin.
"No, if a Baikuh's to be chosen—and what House better qualified?—my second-oldest brother, Komees Lupos, who—"
"Who," Thoheeks Alehk of Skaht sneered, "anytime you or even your horse farts, shouts 'Here I be, my lord!' Oh, true, he obviously knows his name and station, but the Vawn went to Wind bravely and in honor. Can we choose a lesser man for such a chiefs surrogate?"
He paused to clear his throat "Now my son, Dahn—"
Another round of shouting, threatening and general uproar then ensued. Milo's broadbeamed mindspeak finally ended it.
"Gentlemen… and I use the term very loosely since there appear to be but two such in my presence. There be weightier things at hand than the disposal of a vacant title and its lands, and these be not yours to award in any case but mine. I have decided in favor of Thoheeks Morguhn's wise suggestion.
"Nor can this decision be construed as favoritism, since the Sanderz is Kindred to all here yet close relative of none.
"Nor, Thoheeks Duhnkin, are the Agreements of Confederation in any manner compromised by this decision. Think you, are we not all here assembled to conquer Vawn? Are not Chief Hwahltuh and most of his clan's fighters taking part in that conquest? Could we adhere any more closely to the Agreements, then?"
So it was that, before all the assembled nobles of the archduchy, Chief Hwahltuh of Sanderz and his clansmen took their oaths to the Undying God of the Horseclans, Milo of Moral, High Lord of the Confederation of Kindred and Ehleenee.
After so many weeks of living and fighting and roistering among these, once strange, eastern Kinsmen, the short, wiry, middle-aged warrior was no longer ill at ease, though he still held Milo in greater awe than did the more sophisticated easterners. In the new clothing, boots and armor Bili had pressed upon him, he impressively fulfilled his part of the long ceremony, and he was proclaimed Thoheeks of Vawn and Chief of Sanderz by the High Lord, these titles being confirmed by each of the major and minor nobles, in turn— which took considerable time plus the best efforts of a brazen-throated sergeant major of the Confederation kahtahfrahktoee.
And when "Komees Daiviz of Horse County!" was called, the chunky Vaskos stood and roared back his "Aye, my lords. All of Horse County say, 'Long life to Thoheeks Hwahltuh of Vawn!'"
"And so," Komees Hari's son went on, smiling at Bili over his goblet of Vahrohnos Myros' best honey wine, "we cleared the county of rebels. As best we can figure, only the huntsman, Danos, escaped us. At least we couldn't find his body, though his sword, bow and armor and all his clothing were still in his quarters. Among those papers I brought is the receipt from your prison keeper for the persons of Lady Hehrah Daiviz, Sub-kooreeos Pavlos and his woman, one Ntohrees Kahntlehs. The only others left alive in Horse Hall were the headman's kidnapped wife and a handful of servants' children, all of them since taken in by villagers who had lost their own to Hehrah's evil."
Bill nodded. "Then I assume Hari'll not be taking part in the campaign?"
Vaskos' hearty chuckle nearly slopped out his wine. "Hardly. He'll be along presently, though we'll be in Vawn by then—hopefully. But you know Father—first come his people, then his purse, though he's not nearly so impecunious as you'd think by his bellyaching.
"No, he wants to be sure that his folk and his horses will be well provided for and ascertain the minimum number of men required to take in the crops if the campaign outlasts this season.
"Oh, and speaking of men, Father has learned his lesson. You recall how adamant he was that he'd never maintain Freefighters at Horse Hall? Well, he's kept eight—no, nine— of yours. But I'm sure Boh Hohguhn will cover that in his report, after which, with your permission, of course, he's promised to go out and help me sign on a score of good Freefighters for Father's own use."
Lieutenant Hohguhn's report was short and concise. He told of one man killed by slingstone and two wounded, one of them soon to come back to the army with the old komees; the other, though he had at first appeared to have suffered only a bump on the head, had become prone to fainting fits and, after pitching down a staircase one day, had died of a broken neck. The officer had brought back the dead men's horses and gear, and he assured Bili that when he assisted Vaskos in recruiting the Daiviz condotta, he would sign on two good fighters to replace the losses.
Chapter Eight
After a long, arduous march, which had included several inconclusive skirmishes with the wild mountain tribesmen, Drehkos Daiviz and his battered band at last crossed the northwestern border of Vawn, rested briefly at a deserted hall, then continued on toward Vawnpolis—which city had no Ehleen name, since there had been no city on its site in Ehleen times, nor had the duchy even been a part of the Kingdom of Karaleenos then.
The utter desolation of the countryside through which they marched appalled Drehkos, and the evidences of savageries and atrocities sickened .him. Here lay the rotted remains of a whole herd of sheep and, farther on, the animal-gnawed bones of a foal, its legs looking to have been lopped off with a sword; mutilated,, bird-picked human corpses dangled from trees and improvised crosses. And in empty halls and deserted villages were hints of other things, deeds so depraved that the sinister thoughts of what they might have been set Drehkos' skin acrawl. That Drehkos had never been initiated into the Deeper Mysteries of the Faith was perhaps the wisest decision Vahrohnos Myros had ever made.
As for the vahrohnos, he had regained his senses after a week or so and, when again he could sit a horse, had expected to assume command. But by that time, the fleeing rebels—of Morguhn and Vawn alike—had come to rely upon Drehkos. Not all of the peacock-proud Myros' boasts of his own military exploits and experience or his snarled references to Vahrohneeskos Daiviz' lack of such could shake the faith of those men who had come to appreciate Drehkos' quiet courage, that manner which was unruffled and quick-witted even in the midst of an unexpected ambush and the tactical decisions which, though usually unorthodox, were usually right.
Denied what he considered to be his rightful station and deference, Myros became petty and spiteful, dragging out his memory and gleefully recounting to all and sundry forty years' worth of Drehkos' peccadilloes and profligacies and, when memory and facts failed, spinning new tales. When questioned, Drehkos admitted those bits of vicious gossip which were true and quietly denied Myros' false slanders, all the while continuing to lead as best he knew how, further uncovering a never before suspected natural aptitude for command and leadership, and learning the exacting art of mountain warfare by bitter experience.
By the time they crossed into Vawn, only Myros' servants and bodyguards would listen to a word he had to say, and even they laughed behind their hands when he launched another round of slanders against the man who was now unquestionably their commander; the other Morguhnee and Vawnee barely tolerated the vahrohnos.
Nor was it any different in Vawnpolis, which soon was babbling in every quarter tales of that epic march through the dreaded mountains and murderous tribes and of the calm and competent leadership of Vahrohneeskos Drehkos Daiviz. Calm or competent leaders
were indeed rare in doomed, overcrowded Vawnpolis, so Drehkos not only found himself lionized but quickly ensconced high in the command structure of the Crusader forces, as well as becoming the chief of the Morguhn refugee community.
And as Drehkos' star spectacularly waxed, so did Myros' wane. Before his very face both noble and commoner aped mocking parodies of his pompous bearing and affected mannerisms and, when the last of his jewels had gone to buy the few morsels of poor food they would bring, his servants and guards deserted him. Finally only the charity of the Church sustained him. Occasionally, while Drehkos and his staff supervised the strengthening of the walls or the emplacement of a new-made engine on them, the vahrohneeskos would see on a street below Myros' shambling figure, garbed in his ragged, tattered finery. Of neither his exalted pedigree nor his high attainments nor his expropriated wealth was there any evidence in that unshaven, unwashed rooter in garbage piles.
la addition to Drehkos and the small staff of nobles, artisans and soldiers screened from the group which had followed him from Morguhn, there was but a bare handful of organizers to attempt to marshal the jam-packed city, find supplies and improve defenses for the attack and siege which was as certain as the morning sunrise. Not that any of the more rational rebels expected to do more then die, if lucky, with some degree of honor. But there did exist, they tried to assure themselves and their people, an outside chance that, if they could put up a really determined defense, they might delay the inevitable long enough to squeeze some sort of terms from the advancing hosts, who would probably be anxious to have any trouble settled by harvest time.
Such had been the extent of the neglect of growing crops in Vawn and the senseless destruction of flocks, herds, barns and storehouses that the foraging parties ranged far and wide with but scant success.
And even while they feverishly prepared against its coming, the leaders secretly prayed for the arrival of the heathen host, hopeful that the immediate proximity of a common foe would help to unite the faction-ridden, mutually hostile inhabitants of Vawnpolis. For the Church, which might have been expected to exercise a steadying and cohesive influence, had wreaked just the opposite to the point where it was frequently all that the overworked soldiery could do to keep the rabid adherents of no less than three self-proclaimed kooreeoee from one another's throats. Also, all was not sweetness and light betwixt the other disparate elements seething in the overcrowded, underfed city—original urbanites, Vawnee villagers, Morguhnee villagers and city folk, with a leavening of out-and-out bandits from both duchies, all thieved upon and battled with each other when they were not in flight from or in combat with the few thousand loyal spear levymen and nobles' retainers who composed the only dependable troops.