Страница 80 из 137
“Actually, you know, it is fu
“I’m not saying it isn’t going to … upset a few people,” he conceded. “On the other hand, only the most dyed-in-the-wool bigot is going to be able to argue Bahzell didn’t do one hell of a lot more to earn Walsharno’s companionship than most wind riders ever manage. Dear heart, I certainly never did anything that worthy of your love, but you gave it to me anyway.”
Walasfro replied gently.
“Well, of course.” Kelthys smiled and reached up to stroke Walasfro’s shoulder.
“Still,” he continued after a moment, fighting not to grin as Walsharno circled patiently around the paddock, “it is just a trifle unusual for any courser to choose someone who just plain can’t ride worth a damn. I suppose it comes of Bahzell’s never having had much opportunity to practice.”
Walasfro snorted again. the stallion corrected himself with exquisite irony.
“You can be so cynical sometimes,” Kelthys scolded with a chuckle. Walasfro poked his nose at him, and Kelthys smacked it.
Walasfro said more seriously,
“You’re probably right,” Kelthys agreed. Indeed, there was usually no better judge of a human’s—or, he supposed, a hradani’s—horsemanship than a courser. “Still,” the human added hopefully, “he’s getting better faster than almost anyone else I’ve ever watched.”
Walasfro conceded thoughtfully.
“You wonder what?” Kelthys prompted after several seconds.
“Now that is a very interesting thought,” Kelthys murmured softly. “And while we’re having interesting thoughts, here’s another one for you. Have you ever heard of a champion of Tomanak bonding with a courser before?”
Walasfro replied after a moment—a very long, thoughtful moment.
“No, I haven’t,” Kelthys said. “Because it’s never happened before. And I find myself wondering how Bahzell’s relationship with Tomanak is going to affect Walsharno.”
Walasfro admitted frankly. Then he laughed.
“Yes, it is,” Kelthys agreed, laughing with him. “I wonder if his herd stallion knew something when he gave it to him?”
“Yes, it does. For that matter, it fits Bahzell, too.”
Walasfro tossed his head in a gesture of agreement coursers had long ago picked up from humans. In the Sothoii tongue, “Walsharno” meant “Sun of War,” although it might also be translated as “Battle Dawn.”
“At any rate,” Kelthys continued, “I suppose that even without Bahzell’s status as one of Tomanak’s champions, the mere fact that a hradani’s been chosen as a wind rider at all should suggest that we’d all better be as open-minded as possible about their bond.”
Walasfro thought dryly.
“I don’t know,” Kelthys admitted frankly. “I do know that Bahzell is worrying over the same questions. But I don’t think he’ll be ready to move for at least another two or three days, anyway.”
“Because I asked him not to,” Kelthys said calmly. Walasfro swung his head around to look at him, and Kelthys shrugged. “Yes, we have to move. And, yes, the fundamental responsibility has to be Bahzell’s—well, his and the Order’s. But whatever’s happening out there, it’s on the Wind Plain, Walasfro. It’s on our land, and it’s attacked and killed our coursers, and at the moment, you and I—well, you and I and Bahzell and Walsharno—are the only wind riders here. That’s why I sent out the dispatches before we left Deep Water. By now, there must be over a dozen other wind riders on their way to Warm Springs. I expect to see the first of them no later than tomorrow. Don’t you think that our own honor and responsibility require that the wind borne and our brothers ride with Tomanak’s warriors at a time like this?”
Walasfro had started to interrupt, but then he’d stopped to listen to what Kelthys had to say. And at the end, he snorted once again, and tossed his head in agreement.
he said,
“Begging your pardon, Milord, but are you certain about this?”
Saratic Redhelm, Lord Warden of Golden Vale, glared at his marshal. Sir Chalthar Ranseur met his glare with a level look of his own. Chalthar had served Saratic for over ten years, and he’d begun as a common armsman under Saratic’s father, almost twenty years before that.
Saratic reminded himself of that as he fought his own temper back under control. There was no doubt in his mind that Chalthar was completely loyal—as only a Sothoii armsman could be—to Saratic personally and to Golden Vale. But the man’s long service gave him the right to offer advice when he thought his liege lord was about to commit a serious error. And he obviously thought that was what was about to happen.
And I’d probably be less angry with him if a part of me wasn’t worried that he’s right, Saratic thought grimly. But he wasn’t about to admit that to Chalthar.
“Yes, I am certain about it,” he said instead, and held Chalthar’s eyes with his own. There was no expression on the dark-haired, grizzled knight’s weathered face, but he bobbed his head in an abbreviated bow.
“Very well, Milord,” he said. “In that case, I’d recommend that we send the Third and Fifth.”
Saratic pursed his lips while he considered the advice carefully. It was as shrewd as he would have expected from Chalthar, although the Third and Fifth Companies were very different from one another.
Sir Fahlthu Greavesbiter’s Third Company was actually the largest in Saratic’s service. At two hundred men, it was almost twice the size of Sir Halnahk Partisan’s Fifth Company. But Fahlthu was also the most mercenary of Saratic’s officers. He was very good at his trade, if a bit inclined towards brutality as the solution to most problems, but his loyalty went to the man who paid him, and he’d recruited his oversized company up to strength with men very like himself.
Sir Halnahk was almost the diametric opposite. His loyalty was given to his liege lord because he’d sworn fealty to him. After Chalthar himself, his was probably the most reliable allegiance of any of Saratic’s field commanders.