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“But they could at least try,” Tellian objected. “Damn it, it’s unca
“I apologize, Milord,” Kaeritha said with a small smile. “It’s not really anything we do, you know. It just … happens.”
“Aye,” Bahzell agreed, and the smile he gave the baron was much broader than hers had been. “And come to that, I’ve not heard yet that champions of Tomanak weren’t supposed to be after being ’unca
“That’s because they are,” Brandark said in a slightly more serious tone, looking up from his book at last and cocking his foxlike ears. “Unca
Tellian considered that for a few seconds, then nodded.
“You have a point,” he conceded. “But then, everything about the current situation is on the unusual side, isn’t it?”
“It is that.” Heartfelt agreement rumbled in Bahzell’s deep voice as he leaned back in his chair—specially built by Tellian’s master woodworker to Bahzell’s size and weight—and gazed across the neat ranks of chessmen at the human host who was technically his prisoner. “And I hope you won’t be taking this wrongly, Baron, but it’s in my mind that those of your folk who’d sooner see my head on a pike are after getting a mite more … vocal about it.”
“You’re talking about those idiots Kaeritha trounced at the temple the other day?” Tellian asked, and Bahzell nodded.
“Those, and those like them who’re after being a bit more discreet, as you might be saying,” he agreed a trifle grimly. “And I’m not so easy in my mind about those problems biting Lord Festian’s backside, either.” Tellian raised an eyebrow, and Bahzell shrugged. “I’ve no doubt there’s always enough political infighting to be going around amongst you Sothoii—there certainly is amongst any other lot of noblemen I’ve ever heard aught about! But I’m thinking that there’s more than a few getting behind to push where concern over your taste in houseguests is concerned.”
“Of course there are,” Tellian agreed. “Surely you didn’t expect anything else to happen?”
“Of course not,” Bahzell said. “Not that that’s after making it any more pleasant—or keeping my shoulder blades from itching whenever daggers are about—now that it’s here.”
“On the other hand,” Kaeritha observed mildly, “nobody ever said being a champion of Tomanak would be an endless pleasure jaunt, either. Or, at least, no one ever said so to me, anyway.”
“Nor to me,” Bahzell admitted, and his ears twitched in wry amusement as he recalled the conversation in which the god of war had recruited one Bahzell Bahnakson as the first hradani champion of any god of Light in the past twelve mille
“I can well believe that.” Tellian shook his head. “It’s bad enough being a simple baron without having a god looking over my shoulder all the time!”
“That’s as may be,” Bahzell said, “but I’m thinking it wasn’t all that ’simple’ for you, either, when we ran up against each other in the Gullet.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Tellian leaned back in his chair and smiled. “If nothing else, at least I’ve assured that I’ll go down in history. After all, how many men have ever managed to surrender to a force they out numbered twenty or thirty times over?”
“I have a feeling you’ll go down in history for more than just that, Milord,” Kaeritha said. “But Bahzell does have a point, you know. Those louts trying to goad Thalgahr into the Rage knew exactly what they were doing. And I don’t think they came up with the idea spontaneously all on their own. They weren’t bright enough for that! Which suggests that someone is orchestrating events a bit carefully this time. Is it possible you might actually have an enemy somewhere, Milord?” she asked in an elaborately i
“Oh, I suppose anything is possible,” Tellian said wryly. “Do you think I should look into the matter?”
“If you don’t have anything better to do,” she agreed. “In the meantime, however, I’m afraid it’s past time I was off on one of those ’pleasure jaunts’ Bahzell and I were never promised.”
“Ah?” Bahzell cocked his head. “And has Himself been talking to you again, Kerry?”
“Not directly.” She shook her head. “On the other hand, He doesn’t speak directly to me as often as He seems to speak to you.”
“Perhaps,” Brandark murmured in the tone of one in whose mouth butter would adamantly refuse to melt, “that’s because it doesn’t require something quite that, um … direct to get through to you.”
“I wouldn’t know about that,” Kaeritha said primly, and her blue eyes twinkled as Bahzell made a rude gesture at his friend. “But,” she went on, “He does have His own ways of getting messages through to me. And the one I’m getting now is that I’ve been sitting around your house too long, Milord.”
“My house has been honored by your presence, Dame Kaeritha,” Tellian said, and this time his voice was completely serious. “I would be most pleased for you to remain here however long you like. And while I know a champion’s duties take precedence over all other considerations, could you not wait at least until the rain stops?”
“Does the rain ever stop on the Wind Plain, Milord?” Kaeritha asked wryly.
“Not in the spring,” Bahzell replied before Tellian could. “It may be after pausing a bit, here and there, though.”
“Bahzell is right, I’m afraid,” Tellian confirmed. “Winter weather is worse, of course. They say Chemalka uses the Wind Plain to test Her foul weather before She sends it elsewhere, and I believe it. But spring is usually our rainiest season. Although, to be fair, this one’s been rainier than most, even for us.”
“Which I’m sure will be doing wonderful things for the grass and crops, assuming as how it doesn’t wash all of them away before ever they sprout. But that won’t be leaving you any drier right this very moment, Kerry,” Bahzell observed.
“I’ve been wet before.” Kaeritha shrugged. “I haven’t melted or shrunk yet, and I probably won’t this time, either.”
“I see you’re serious about leaving,” Tellian said, and she nodded. “Well, I’m not foolish enough to try to tell a champion of Tomanak her business, Milady. But if He insists on sending you out in such weather, is there at least anything I can do to assist you on your way?”
“It might help if you could tell me where I’m going,” Kaeritha said ruefully.
“I beg your pardon?” Tellian looked at her as if he half suspected her of pulling his leg.
“One of the more frustrating consequences of the fact that He doesn’t talk to me as directly as He does to Bahzell here,” Kaeritha told him, “is that my directions are often a bit less precise.”
“Well, Bahzell does require as much clarity—not to say simplicity—as possible,” Brandark put in with a wicked grin.
“Just you be keeping it up, little man,” Bahzell told him. “I’m sure it’s an impressive splash you’ll make when someone kicks your hairy arse halfway across the moat.”
“This castle doesn’t have a moat,” Brandark pointed out.
“It will as soon as I’ve finished digging one for the occasion,” Bahzell shot back.
“As I was saying,” Kaeritha continued in the tone of a governess ignoring her charges’ obstreperousness, “I haven’t really received any specific instructions about exactly what I’m supposed to be doing here.”
“I should think that helping to destroy an entire temple of Sharna and to establish a brand-new chapter of your order amongst Bahzell’s people—not to mention playing some small part in preventing that idiot Redhelm from committing all of us to a disastrous war—constitutes a worthwhile effort already,” Tellian observed.