A cheer from those present greeted this judgement. A wrestling match was always popular, not least because Anthorians were keen gamblers. Menish could see them measuring the two contestants with looks, trying to pick a winner. He even heard Marayhir betting some of the cows he expected to receive that afternoon on Traan.
There were no more disputes to judge so Menish called for the midday meal to be served. Bowls of mein were distributed from the bubbling pots on the hearth. Menish saw Hrangil spooning his up hungrily and telling Yarol about the foul food they had had to eat on their journey. Menish rather liked the food he had eaten in Relanor, especially when they had dined with Vorish and Sonalish. It was richer and more elaborate than was normally served in Anthor. Sometimes he regretted that they were such a stark folk.
Althak’s gaudy presence, although it was often resented, was good for them. Menish watched him talking to a group of women and wondered how comfortable Althak was in this land. His interest in Keashil puzzled him, somewhat. She was no Vorthenki wench to be passed around among his friends. But he supposed she was the closest thing he could get to that while he lived in Anthor.
There was less suspicion of Althak now than there had been once. Menish himself always emphasised Althak’s bravery and praised his counsel when he gave it. There was a time when none of the women would acknowledge his presence except Adhara, and she did not like him. That had changed. Some of them would speak to him now, though there were still many who joked about the Vorthenki behind his back. Menish wanted them to like Althak. Althak and Vorish were both like sons to him in a way, children Adhara had never been able to give him. The words of the Keeper returned to him with that thought and he shut them out.
After the meal the whole court made a parade out to the wrestling ground. These things had to be done properly. Yarol had hurriedly made the dusty area of tramped earth outside the gates of the palace ready. The yak horn trumpets were blown before them as Menish and the rest of the court followed the two contestants. The wrestling ground had been roped off and two yak tail standards stood at each end. A big drum with cow skin stretched across it had been rolled into place just outside the ropes.
There was another blast on the horns as Menish took his place by the drum and the two wrestlers stood under their standards. They were pleased with Menish’s decision. Traan had already said that they were sick and tired of harassment from their own clan and ridicule from others. Besides, they were itching to get their hands on each other again. Menish took up the carefully polished leg bone of a horse that lay beside the drum and struck it. The resounding boom silenced the horns and the excited chatter of the spectators.
“Let the contestants make ready!” shouted Menish. There were attendants nearby, a pair of stable hands and several folk Yarol had commandeered from the kitchen, with pots of grease. The two contestants stripped down to their breeches and allowed themselves to be coated with the grease. They made a show of flexing their muscles and glaring at each other during this operation, Menish could see the spectators eyeing their form and haggling with each other over bets. The Anthorians loved a fight.
Menish waited until both Traan and Gilth signalled that they were ready and he beat the drum once more. By convention all betting arrangements had to be concluded by the second drum beat, though the rite of duelling was more ancient than their love of gambling. Adhara had once told him the yak tails were sacred to Kiveli, the Anthorian earth goddess, no one really used such things nowadays except like this in a formal fight.
The crowd became silent and Menish spoke again.
“Offspring of the heroes of Ristalshuz,” he addressed them formally. “You are here to witness the duel of Traan and Gilth. This duel will settle the matter that lies between these two. They are forbidden to duel with each other, by wrestling or by arms, for the next three months and they both lose the right to graze the Githal.” There was a murmur of approval from those who had been involved in the abortive raid.
“I call on Krith the Eternal to be the judge here. Let the duel commence!”
Once again Menish hammered the drum.
There was absolute silence from the crowd. The sound of a light wind flapping the yak tails and the shuffling of the contestants’ feet as they circled one another was all that could be heard. Their bodies gleamed with grease in the sunlight.
Both were stocky men, Traan a little heavier than Gilth, but there was not much difference. This would be a fight of skill rather than strength.
With a lightning movement Traan lunged, Gilth dodged to one side but Traan had expected it. His boot caught Gilth in the stomach as he fell past him into the dust. With a deft flip Traan was back on his feet before it could be counted as a fall. Gilth doubled over but did not fall. He dropped to a fighting crouch, chest heaving, and faced Traan. It was an old trick. Gilth should have seen it coming. Menish could see by the humiliated look on the man’s face that he was thinking the same thing.
Suddenly Gilth was on the offensive. He scooped up a handful of dust and flung it at Traan’s face. A second later they were locked together, arms fighting for a hold on each other’s greased bodies. Gilth managed to grasp Traan’s pony tail and jerked it down. Traan’s chin went up and Gilth’s forehead butted his throat with a vicious thud. Traan toppled backwards and crashed onto the ground. The yak horns blew.
Gilth stood back while Traan stood up again. There were few rules in a wrestling duel. No weapons were allowed and the first one to fall three times lost. For a fall to count the victim had to be allowed to regain his feet.
Traan was annoyed at Gilth’s ploy, there was a smouldering fury in his eyes. That was a bad sign for him, thought Menish. To win a duel like this one required not anger but a cool head. Traan charged Gilth like a bull and Gilth nimbly leapt aside. But not quickly enough. Traan was not as enraged as he appeared to be. His fist slammed into Gilth’s shoulder. Gilth tumbled into the ropes and dropped to the ground. He was up in an instant but not before the yak horns had blown.
Once again the two men were locked together. Traan grasped at Gilth’s leg, trying to lift it and throw him. Gilth’s arm slipped from his grasp at the wrong moment and Gilth hammered his fist into Traan’s chest, sending him sprawling backwards into the dust. The yak horns sounded.
Breathing heavily the two men faced each other again. Menish was enjoying this fight. There was none of the taunting and jeering between the two opponents that only distracted everyone from the matter in hand.
Traan had to be very careful now. One more fall and he would lose the fight. Menish saw the tenseness in his stance. Dust clung to the grease on his body. He stood, waiting for Gilth’s next move.
When it came it was faster than anyone expected. Gilth lashed out with a kick, an awkward move. Traan made to grab at his foot and missed. Gilth followed through with a double fist that crashed into Traan’s side, knocking him down for the third time. Once more the yak horns blew.
There was a cheer from those who had placed bets on Gilth. Traan picked himself up and dusted himself off with a scowl. It was always hard to lose.
That ended the formal part of the day. The gamblers would spend a good deal of the afternoon settling their debts and discussing the fight. As he watched Menish return through the gateway Azkun felt Yarol tap him on the shoulder.
“Master Azkun, the King wishes to speak with you in his rooms. Come with me.” Azkun followed him into the palace with Tenari still clinging to his arm. Her touch now made him shiver but she was too persistent to push away.
The fight had been interesting. Althak had told him there was little chance of either man hurting more than his dignity. Azkun had seen it simply as a display of skill. Yarol gathered Althak and Drinagish from the crowd before he led them up two flights of stairs and into a chamber where Menish and Adhara waited. Grath and Hrangil were not far behind them.
The chamber was like the main hall but smaller. Tapestries showing horsemen hunting covered most of the stone walls and weapons hung on t
he rest. There were other things too, Relanese vases with bright designs on them and embroidered cushions. The floor was small enough to cover with rugs and furs rather than straw as in the main hall. A narrow hearth lay fireless along one wall, and in the centre of the room lay a low table. On the table lay a bottle of ambroth and some drinking horns, but it was too soon after the midday meal for anyone to need refreshment. There were two other doors leading out of the room.
Menish motioned them to sit on the cushions that surrounded the table. “Did you enjoy the fight?”
“Not bad, I'd placed my bets on Traan, though,” said Drinagish.
“Mine were on Gilth,” Grath said smugly. “Fifteen cows.”
“I thought Gilth would probably win,” said Menish, “but, of course, I can't wager on a case I've judged.
“I called you together before you, Drinagish and Grath, go to count these cows of Marayhir’s to discuss the expedition to Gashan. I hope there's no ill will about those cows, Grath?”
Grath shrugged. “He can have them. They really were not worth it. I wouldn't have made the second raid if I'd taken a good look at the first lot.”
“Good. I took you at your word. I don't like Marayhir, but I'd rather he had his cows back and left me alone. I didn't make it clear last night but Vorish has requested the expedition north to satisfy himself that the Gashan rumours are true. If they are he will send us aid to fight them, several of you already know this. Vorish also hopes the expedition will find out what happened to the Duzral Eye and, perhaps, fetch it back.
“Hrangil, Azkun and Althak have volunteered to go. There are two others who should be part of the expedition. Grath, will you go? Before you answer let me say that this journey will be hazardous. You go of your own choice or not at all. I make no demand on you.”
Grath only grinned. “I'll go. I was hoping you'd ask me. Besides, I'll not be outdone by a Vorthenki.” He gave Althak a friendly punch on the shoulder.
“You've my thanks. We'll talk of rewards for you all when you return. There's one other who should go.” Here it comes, thought Menish.
“Who?” asked Adhara, a note of suspicion in her voice.
“Tenari, of course,” said Drinagish. “Azkun won't leave her behind.”
“I'd forgotten Tenari,” said Menish. “I was thinking of another. I, myself, will go with you to Gashan.” He had said it, now he waited for the objections.
“You will not!” shouted Adhara, rising to her feet. She glowered at Menish. “How can you possibly go to Gashan? That leg of yours has been giving you hell, you said so last night. You're not in a fit state to travel north with winter coming on. Besides, what need is there? You have Hrangil to recognise the Eye.”
Menish watched her carefully. There was force in her words but in her eyes there was pleading.
“I'm going. I want to see Gashan. That's reason enough. But it seems prudent that two of us who can recognise the Eye should go.”
“Vorish forbade it,” said Althak.
“Vorish isn't here!” said Menish, suddenly angry because he had hoped they had forgotten. “Vorish is happy to send you off on a dangerous journey while he waits in safety. I'm not!”
“So that's the real reason,” said Adhara. “Then I, too, will go with you.”
“No, you will not.”
“And how will you stop me? We both go or neither.”
“When will you learn to take orders from your King?”
“When will you learn to take orders from your Emperor?”
“By Aton, I said you are to stay and I've a good reason. Drinagish is not ready to be regent while I am away. Oh, you're learning quickly, Drinagish, and I'm pleased with you. But you would not yet be able to handle Marayhir alone. You need Adhara’s authority behind you, guiding you.”
“So you'd leave me behind because of Anthor?”
“Why else?” He dared her to suggest it was because he was afraid for her safety to this company. But she made no answer. Menish knew he had not heard the last of this.
“What about Vorish?” asked Yarol. “If he's forbidden you to go-”
“As I said, Vorish is not here. His wishes in this matter are being carried out as well as we can. We're making the journey for him, he can't have everything his own way. Now, can we leave tomorrow?”
“I do not wish Tenari to come with us,” said Azkun.
“You don't? Why not?”
Tenari sat beside him but, unlike her reaction to being left behind at Atonir, she gave no indication that she had heard.
“I am afraid of her. I believe she is under the power of the Monnar. I do not wish her to come with us.”
“If that's what you want,” said Menish, “then she can stay here. But remember it was you who demanded that she be taken from Lianar.” That action had also cost Menish much. He was disturbed that Azkun had now simply changed his mind. Still, Tenari would possibly be a liability in Gashan.
“That is what I want.”
“Then we can make arrangements to leave at first light tomorrow. Yarol, you know what supplies we'll need. Drinagish and Grath, you've yet to count those cows. I think Marayhir has already lost them in a bet on the fight today.”
Chapter 23: Journey to Gashan
Early next morning they gathered in the courtyard to ride north. Menish had argued half the night with Adhara after the others had gone. She would ride after them, she had said, she had even drawn a sword to give Menish some superficial injury that would prevent his travelling. But she had eventually accepted his argument that she was needed at Meyathal and that he must go to Gashan. He was weary when he climbed onto his horse.
Keashil, Tenari and Neathy had met them in the main hall when they had eaten a brief meal. Yarol was also present and so, of course, was Adhara.
Adhara, having agreed for Menish to go, made no further protest. She wished them a safe journey and only Menish detected the concern in her eyes. But Tenari did not let Azkun go so easily. When he mounted his horse she made to climb up behind him. Yarol caught her arm, but she ignored him and tried again. Gently but firmly Yarol pulled her away from the horse.
“Careful, Yarol!” called Neathy.
But Tenari was too quick. She lashed out at him, raking her nails down his face. He was unprepared for such viciousness and, in jerking away from her, was thrown off balance. He tumbled to the ground. With a spring she was suddenly on the horse behind Azkun and sat there motionless as if nothing had happened.
“Bitch,” said Neathy. “You have to watch her, Yarol, she's not as docile as she seems.”
“You still want to leave her behind, Azkun?” asked Althak.
“Yes, she cannot come with us.” Her attacks on Neathy and now Yarol had made him even more afraid of her.
“She doesn't treat our folk in that fashion,” said Adhara, stepping forward. “Down you come or I'll haul you off that horse myself. You need a birch across your backside for that kind of behaviour.”
Tenari ignored her.
“So be it,” said Adhara grimly. With a quick movement she reached up to Tenari’s collar and, grabbing her by the scruff of her jerkin, wrenched her off the horse. She crashed heavily to the ground with a squeal of surprise. Adhara pulled her to her feet and Tenari’s nails flashed out once again, but Adhara was ready for that. One arm knocked her hand aside and the other thudded into her belly. As she doubled over Adhara caught her in a headlock.
Tenari screamed and clawed at Adhara, fighting like an animal, even trying to bite her, but all she could do was scratch at Adhara’s thick jerkin. When it seemed she might break free Adhara casually tripped her, flung her face down on the ground and sat on her.
“Tenari!” cried Azkun, horrified at this scene. He clambered from his horse and knelt beside her. “Tenari, stop it. Do not fight them or they will hurt you. You cannot come with us.”
Abruptly Tenari’s struggles ended. Adhara let her rise to her feet, though she watched her every move suspiciously.
“Sh
e did not understand,” said Azkun, seeing the hostility in Adhara’s eyes. “She did not mean any harm.”
“The next time she means so little harm she'll get more than that.” But Tenari made no further move to climb back onto the horse. Her face became a mask of grief, but she made no sound. Azkun refused to look at her. Her expression touched his heart, but he could not bear her to be with him. She was the eyes of the Monnar.
Keashil had brought Althak’s harp with her, and before he climbed onto his horse she offered it to him.
“Your harp, you should take it with you, It'll ease your heart in peril.” Althak touched the harp.
“You play it better than I. Besides it's yours, I gave it to you.”
“Return soon then, Vorthenki. I'll miss you.”
When their goodbyes were all said they rode off through the gateway and down the road between the stone houses. Their way led them to the bank of the river where there was a stone bridge of crude design; a series of stepping-stones joined together. Azkun remembered the leaping span of the bridge of Sheagil and thought this a mean thing. But it brought them safely across the river and it did not involve dead cows.
On the other side he looked behind him to Meyathal. He could see the walls rising above the houses of the town, and he could see two figures standing on the terrace. He was not sure at this distance but they appeared to be Adhara and Tenari. He hoped Tenari would not be treated too harshly.
North of Meyathal the country opened out into the wide plains they had seen from the mountains. It was vast, empty and windy. The east wind blasted across it like a released demon. The emptiness of the plains was overpowering. After the first three days they lost sight of the mountains behind them and it seemed that the plains stretched on forever. Azkun felt that he stood on the edge of the world. The horizon was a cliff beyond which lay nothing. He found the emptiness filled his thoughts, cleansing them of cares and guilt, reminding him again of the dragons.
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