You always did have more of my blood in you than your mothers.
Look out for her, Hartraft, Wolfgar announced. She can drop a stag on the run at fifty paces with her bow, or with her bare hands claw out the eyes of a man who tries to touch her!
Asayaga looked at Roxanne intently, but her gaze was not on him; rather it was fixed appraisingly on Dennis, who did not seem to notice her, his attention fixed suddenly on the far corner of the room. Dennis nodded to Asayaga and made a subtle hand gesture.
Asayaga looked around and saw that Sugama and his companions were in a small knot around one of the tapped kegs of beer. As they spoke one of them kept looking back over his shoulder at several Kingdom soldiers who were eyeing them with equal distrust. Words were being exchanged by both groups: it was obvious that both sides were half-drunk, and insulting each other in their own tongues. Then one of the Kingdom soldiers stood up, fists clenched, and men to either side began to back up.
What happened next caught Asayaga completely by surprise. From the corner of his eye he saw Roxanne reach down behind her fathers chair and then stand back up a few seconds later with a crossbow. She shouldered the weapon, aimed it and squeezed the trigger.
The bolt hissed across the room, brushing past the Kingdom soldier and buried itself in the side of the keg not a hands-span away from Sugama.
The hall fell instantly silent, everyone looking from the quivering bolt and then to Roxanne.
In my fathers hall, she said coldly, there is no brawling. Take it outside: I hate cleaning spilled blood off the table I must eat from.
The silence reigned for several long seconds. Alwin Barry, still sitting by Tasemus side, stood up, raised his flagon to Roxanne and then drained it. Putting the flagon back down he began to laugh, a soft chuckle at first, shaking his head as the laughter built. Tasemu, following Alwins gesture, stood and did likewise, the two laughing together until finally they were slapping each other on the back, pointing at Roxanne and then to the thoroughly discomfited knot of men around the keg. Within seconds the entire hall was roaring.
Roxanne looked around the room and then with a gesture of disdain, placed the front of the crossbow on the floor, recocked it, loaded another bolt in and slipped the weapon back under the seat. This gesture caused a redoubling of laughter and finally, looking a bit irritated, she stalked out of the hall.
Ahh, thats my blood! Wolfgar roared. Thats the type of women I can sire. By all the gods, I can still do it, I can, if only I could find a wench blind enough to let me!
His comment caused a hearty round of toasts and cheers, Asayaga translating the boast to one of the soldiers sitting by his side so that it shot around the room, the laughter increasing as it spread to the other Tsurani. The few women in the room were also laughing, shaking their heads and holding their hands up in mock horror.
Wolfgar stood up, and with a groan somehow managed to step up on to the feasting table, knocking over a platter of meat. Raising his feasting cup, he drained it to the dregs, tossed it aside and slowly walked down the length of the table, acknowledging the upraised flagons and goblets and the lusty cheers of the men. A number of the Kingdom troops started into an obscene ditty about a blacksmith who had five daughters, and the fate that befell each of their midnight visitors who were dragged out to face the hot tongs and anvil. The Tsurani were singing as well. Somehow they had understood the nature of Wolfgars boasting, and Asayaga was intrigued that the song they started to sing in counterpoint had almost the identical plot.
Finally Wolfgar held out his hands for the men to be silent and the room fell quiet. As he stood the years seemed to fall from his shoulders. Dennis watched with approval, knowing that before them stood one of the Kingdoms finest singers of sagas, even if he was a reprobate, liar, and thief.
Softly at first, but with firm control, the old man began a very old song:
Fare thee well, my sweet Kingdom lassie, Fare thee well, and I bid you goodbye, For Im off with the dawning to cold northern mountains, Off to the north, where for King shall I die
Dennis sat back and looked over at Asayaga, who seemed intrigued by the old song of a soldier knowing he was sent to face the Dark Brothers in a campaign doomed from the start. Dennis closed his eyes and remembered when he had first heard the song as a boy. He had sat by his fathers side, silently listening to Wolfgar, while tears had flowed unchecked down his cheeks. The song was about duty, honour, and sacrifice, and Dennis wondered at Wolfgars choice. For if any Kingdom men were doomed to the fate of the hero of that song, it was the men in this room.
Asayaga saw Denniss expression, and realized the song had some meaning for him. He listened to the story in the song, ignoring its odd rhythm and strange tonal qualities. The story was heroic, about a man who put honour above common sense. Asayaga was torn, because on one hand, it was a very Tsurani attitude, yet on the other, no Tsurani would even raise the question of failure and debate it, even within himself. To die for honour was a great thing.
Ive spent too much time on this world, he muttered to himself, as Wolfgar finished to a deeply appreciative round of applause. Asayaga saw that some of his own men had translated for the others, and more than one soldier on both sides sat with eyes rimmed with moisture.
Yes, thought the Tsurani Force Commander, it is a powerful tale.
He left the room, ignoring the bitter cold outside, and went to the slit trench he had ordered dug earlier in the day. The men had used the common area in the centre of the stockade when first arising, and he had put a stop to that as soon as he realized there were no latrine facilities inside the stockade. No soldier with any field experience would let his men foul their own camp. Disease came too quickly on the heels of filth, a point that seemed to be lost on the barbarians. He reached the trench and started to relieve himself, a sense of relief flooding through him.
Theyre happy in there.
Startled, Asayaga saw that Dennis was by his side, relieving himself as well. Finished, the two stood silent for a moment, the blizzard driving the snow around them. The lanterns hanging on the outside of the long house swayed in the wind, casting dim shadows, barely visible as a heavy gust of snow swept across the narrow courtyard.
Were going to be stuck here for a while, Dennis said. The only way out now is through the high passes and theyll be blocked by morning.
It keeps the Dark Brothers out, though, even as it keeps us in.
Yes. The chase is over.
For now at least. I doubt if they will give up. Weve injured them. If it was reversed, Hartraft, if they were trapped in here His voice trailed off.
No. If it was me and my men trapped in here and you were on the far side of the mountains, what would you do?
Wait you out.
I see.
Again they were silent for a moment.
You are a hard man. A hard opponent, Hartraft. Were you this way before the war?
Thats not your concern. What we face now is my concern.
Our pledge to fight, is that it?
Like I said, the chase is over. We agreed to a truce until we escaped, and for the moment we have.
Like I said, the chase is over. We agreed to a truce until we escaped, and for the moment we have.
Asayaga turned and stepped closer until they were only inches apart. He looked up into Denniss eyes. What do you want? Come dawn should we roust our men out from in there, line up, draw weapons and commence slaughtering one another?
Even as he said the words both could hear the laughter and the start of another song from within the long house.
We both know what is in there is not real, Dennis replied, waving vaguely towards Wolfgars long house. Were outside our world for the moment, but sooner or later reality will come crashing back in. Less than a hundred miles from here, this night, Kingdom troops and Tsurani troops are sitting in their camps, waiting out the weather, and when the blizzard passes, they will be out hunting each other, and the war will go on. Are we any different, are we excused?
We could kill each other tomorrow down to the last man and it wont change what happens back there. I am as honour-bound as you, Hartraft, but killing you tonight will not change the war. It is as if we are both dead and gone from it. Tell me, is it honour, a sense of duty or vengeance which drives you now?
Dennis did not reply.
Is it dawn then? If so, Id better go in and tell my men to stop drinking and prepare. Youd better do the same.
He snapped out the words, struggling to control his anger and stepped back. Then he bowed formally, and started to turn away.
Wait.
For what?
Just wait a moment, Dennis said, his voice heavy, distant. There must come a day, we both know that. Once back into our lines, yours or mine, we have to face that.
So why not now?
Dont press me, Tsurani: the ice we tread on is thin.
Go on then, say what you want.
Well still need each other once the passes clear. The Dark Brothers will be waiting, perhaps even bringing up reinforcements. We stand a better chance of surviving if we work together.
Is that the real reason?
Like I said, the ice is thin: dont press me.
Asayaga finally nodded.
A truce, then, till we return to our lines, Dennis said haltingly. We command our own men, and keep the peace between them. If any break that peace, you and I agree to sit in judgement together.
With Wolfgar.
Why?
I suspect he might be the most impartial of all.
Youre right, Dennis replied slowly. He will judge as well. We share all rations, lodgings and work.
Of course.
Asayaga looked back at the long house. And the daughter Alyssa, what of her?
I dont know what you are talking about! Dennis snapped.
Fine then.
Dennis hesitated then extended his hand. Asayaga took it.
Neither noticed the intent presence that lingered in the doorway of the stable and had heard every word.
Chapter Twelve
Blood Debts
THE BLADE WAS SHARP.
The tip of the knife punctured his skin effortlessly, drawing forth a drop of blood. He watched the tiny pearl of crimson well up on his skin, and turned his arm so that the drop might fall free. He watched as it stained the icy whiteness beside his boots. The daily ritual complete, Bovai sheathed the blade.
His left arm was scarred from elbow to wrist by tens of thousands punctures he had inflicted upon himself over the years so that the limb was now a mass of twisted scars.
Soon, he thought, I shall be done with this ritualistic self-mutilation. Soon the stain on the honour of my family and clan will be finally ended.
On the night he had heard for certain that Tinuva had gone over to the eledhel he had vowed thus, to draw his own blood in atonement, day upon endless day, until the blood of the traitor was spilled.
For Tinuva, the traitor, was also his brother of birth.
Lowering his arm, he leaned back against a tree and looked down at the fortress guarding the river crossing. They had been camped there for nearly a fortnight, over three hundred of his brothers, the remaining humans and goblins crammed into the stockade, waiting for the weather to change and for his scouts to report that the northern passes into the valley were clear enough for his force to attack. The swirling snow lifted for a moment so that he caught glimpses of men coming back in from the forest, guiding a cart loaded with wood. He absently rubbed his scarred and bleeding arm and closed his eyes. There was a time, a time so long ago it seemed he could hardly remember it, when Tinuva had been his beloved brother, Morvai, spoken of by many as the one who would one day be the Paramount Chieftain of Clan Raven. Some even whispered that perhaps he would even be the one to unite all the clans in holy war, so that the exile in the northern bitterness would end and the plague of humans and the traitorous eledhel would be driven into the sea.
How he remembered those days, when together they would go out into the forests to hunt, to talk, to dream: two brothers still in their youth, side by side, planning for all that would come
Morvai was fair to behold. Some would later say that from birth his heart was already calling him to join the eledhel. There had been a gentleness to him, rare in moredhel warriors, save when with their mates and young. Yet all would admit that none could match him in the hunt, in the skill he showed with blade or bow, in fleetness of foot, or even in the charm of his voice. And there was no doubt as to his fierceness and courage in battle. No small number of humans had died at Morvais hands, and a number of the eledhel, as well, before he had felt the unnatural tug of their queens dark magic.
As he remembered Bovai lowered his head, for he had loved his brother idolized him and would have gladly served him. His loyalty was remarked upon by all, and the sight of one brother without the other by his side was considered rare. Bovai knew that Morvai had abilities he lacked: a quickness of mind and a nimble wit. So he attempted to achieve what his brother had with different tools: strength and cunning, ruthlessness and an unhesitating willingness to kill. Together they were a perfect pair, the blade and the hammer. What Morvai could not achieve with guile, wit, and charm, Bovai could achieve with brute strength and terror.
So they had been for the seemingly timeless years of their youth. They had faced a hundred battles together against rival clans, renegade humans, even venturing beneath the earth to take the riches of the burrowing dwarves. Each had saved the life of the other more than once, and as he contemplated the memory Bovais hand drifted to his chest, to the wound he had taken leaping in front of Morvai so that the arrow had struck him instead of his brother.
How Morvai had wept that night, sitting by his brothers side as the bolt was withdrawn. He had pledged his undying devotion and had cut his own arm, letting his blood drip into the wound so that their bond was seen by all to be eternal.
There are few things that could break such a bond, but at last they had encountered it and her name was Anleah. Bovai remembered as if it were days before instead of years