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The wolves he still faced came at him. He had no idea how many of them there were. It didn’t matter. He brought a leaden forehoof down one last time, crushing one more wolf, crippling one more foe who would not murder one of his foals.
And then they foamed over him in a final wave of rending, tearing agony, and there was only darkness.
Chapter Four
“It’s about time you were getting your lazy arse back up here.”
“And it’s a pleasure to be seeing you, too, Hurthang,” Bahzell said mildly. He wiggled his ears gently at his cousin—one of the very few warriors, even among the Horse Stealers, who was almost as massive and powerfully built as Bahzell himself—and gri
“All very well for you to be playing the japester … as usual,” Hurthang growled as he threw his arms around Bahzell in a kinsman’s embrace and thumped him on both shoulders. “But this time round, I’m thinking the midden’s getting just a bit riper than any of us might be wishing. If you’d not turned up today or tomorrow, I’d’ve been shoveling the sh—ah, dealing with it myself.”
His voice and ma
“He wanted to start shoveling it yesterday,” a soprano voice observed tartly. “So thank Tomanak you did get back! He’s not any more, um, sophisticated than you are, Bahzell, and he’s even harder to keep on a leash.”
Bahzell turned towards the speaker, a young woman, a human in her very early thirties, with hair so black it was almost blue, sapphire-dark eyes, and a pronounced Axeman accent. She wore matched short swords, one on either hip, her slender hands were strong and callused from their hilts, and her quarterstaff leaned against the pew beside her. Even without the old scars which marked her face (without making it one bit less attractive) it would have been obvious she was a warrior, and one to be reckoned with. She was also tall for a woman, especially one from the Empire of the Axe … which meant that the top of her head came almost as high as Bahzell’s chest.
“Not that he’s necessarily wrong just because he’s a simple, direct barbarian,” she continued. “As a matter of fact, I’m a bit worried, too. But I hope you’ll be just a little more careful about local sensibilities this time around.” Bahzell looked at her with profound i
“We do, do we, Kerry?” Bahzell snorted, reaching out to hug her in turn. Dame Kaeritha Seldansdaughter was broad shouldered and well muscled, yet she seemed to disappear in his embrace. Not that it had any noticeable effect on the tartness of her tongue.
“Yes, you do. In fact, both of you favor dull rocks,” she shot back.
“Well, that’s because we’d most likely be cutting our own fingers off if we were after using sharp ones,” he replied cheerfully as he released her.
“You two probably would,” she conceded, reaching past him to exchange clasped forearms with Brandark. “Still,” she continued more seriously, “I agree with Hurthang. Things are developing a definite potential for turning ugly.”
“They’ve been that way from the begi
“Of course they have. But in the last few days, it’s started to seem that all our lads have targets painted on their backs,” Kaeritha replied.
“All our lads?” Bahzell repeated, and she nodded.
“All of them,” she said more grimly. “Gurlahn’s been keeping most of your father’s people fairly close to home up in the castle, but there have been some incidents with them, even so. And it’s been worse for Hurthang’s men.”
“There’s been trouble with the Order?” Bahzell turned back to Hurthang, his expression concerned, and Hurthang grimaced.
“Not yet—not open trouble, that’s to say,” he said. “Truth to tell, Bahzell, I’d as lief follow Gurlahn’s example and clap ’em all up here in the temple, but—”
He shrugged, and Bahzell nodded in understanding. Hurthang was the official commander of the detachment from the Hurgrum Order of Tomanak which had come along to Balthar to establish formal communion with the Church of Tomanak outside the hradani homeland. Although both Bahzell and Kaeritha, as champions of Tomanak, technically outranked him, Hurthang was the senior member of the Hurgrum chapter present and the one officially in charge of regularizing its relationship with the Church at large.
Fortunately, Taraman Wararrow, the senior priest of Tomanak in Balthar, had proved a broad-minded sort of fellow. He’d actually taken the arrival of a clutch of bloodthirsty Horse Stealer hradani claiming to be servants of the War God in stride. And he’d managed to convince Sir Markhalt Ravencaw, the commander of the small detachment of the Order’s knights and lay brothers assigned to the Balthar temple, to go along with him, as well.
The Order wasn’t as well represented in the Kingdom of the Sothoii as it was in the Empire of the Axe or the Empire of the Spear. It was respected, of course. Indeed, the King’s younger brother, Prince Yurokhas, was an outspoken member of the Order, and the temples of Tomanak were usually well attended. But the Order itself maintained only two official chapters in the entire Kingdom: one in Sothofalas, King Markhos’ capital, and one in Nachfalas, where its members could keep an eye on the Ghoul Moor and the river brigands. Those two chapters maintained detachments on semipermanent assignment to the temples in most of the Sothoii’s cities and larger towns, but the bulk of their manpower remained concentrated in their home chapter houses. Which meant that the eighteen members of the Hurgrum Chapter who had accompanied Bahzell, Kaeritha, and Hurthang to Balthar actually out numbered Sir Markhalt’s detachment.
Markhalt and Father Taraman might have taken the Horse Stealers’ arrival in stride, after the first inevitable moments of eye-goggling shock. One or two members of Markhalt’s detachment had found the situation much more difficult to accept, however. And if the members of the Order itself had qualms, it was scarcely surprising that Sothoii who were not members of the Order (and did remember the better part of a mille
But despite that, the situation had seemed to be under control when Bahzell and Brandark returned to Hurgrum for their brief visit with Prince Bahnak. If it hadn’t seemed that way, Bahzell would never have gone.
“How bad is it?” he asked now.
“Mostly naught but words, although I’ll not deny some of ’em have been uglier than I’d’ve stomached without blood if I’d only myself to be thinking of. But it’s in my mind that at least some of them as’ve been flinging those words about are hopeful some of our lads will slip into the Rage if they goad ’em hard enough.”
“That would be just a bit hard on whoever provoked them into it,” Brandark observed in a tone whose mildness fooled no one.
“True,” Kaeritha agreed. “But I think Hurthang is right. And I’ve noticed that when the hecklers are at their most provocative, there’s usually a crowd around.” Bahzell cocked his ears at her, and she shrugged. “They may actually be foolish enough to think that a dozen or so friends would be enough to save them from a hradani in the Rage.”