Oath of Swords

The Horse Stealer stood at the head of their soaked, mud-spattered party and peered down the final slope. Evening was coming on fast, there was a hint of sleet in the rain, the beasts steamed in the icy wet, and he could feel the sagging weariness of his friends, but his ears twitched under his hood as lights glimmered ahead. It looked like a good-sized village or small town, and he touched Tothas on the knee, then pointed at the lights.

“Would you be knowing what that might be?” Even his deep, rumbling voice was hoarse with fatigue, and the Spearman blinked for a moment before his mind churned back to life.

“I think-” He pursed his lips, then nodded wearily. “That would be Dunsahnta,” he said wearily. “We passed through it when we took My Lady north.”

“What sort of place is it after being?”

“It’s a village-good sized, but much like any other.” Tothas frowned. “There’s an i

“Did you stay at the i

Tothas flushed, but then he shook his head. “I doubt it. We didn’t stop on the way north. We came through in the morning and kept right on going.”

“Ah.” Bahzell patted his knee again and slogged back to Zarantha. Her mule looked as weary as the hradani felt-it didn’t even try a nip-and sleety water crusted Zarantha’s coat. “You’ve the purse, such as it is,” he rumbled. “Will it stretch enough to get Tothas under a roof?”

“Where are we?” Zarantha countered, and nodded when Bahzell repeated what Tothas had told him. “Yes, I remember the place. And he’s right, we didn’t stop.” She bit her lip for a moment, then nodded again, more firmly. “Yes. We can cover two or even three days’ lodging, I think.”

“Good.” Bahzell sighed, and led off into the gloom once more.

Chapter Twenty-one

Dunsahnta did, indeed, boast an i

At least Tothas was able to speak for them this time, and the i

The rooms were bigger than The Laughing God’s, but no fires had been laid, there were no hot baths, and meals cost two coppers apiece. Yet they were out of the rain, though it occurred to Bahzell, as he considered their rooms, that the landlord had hardly given them his best chambers. They were on the second floor, off a stubby, blind hallway, with the smaller room squeezed into an awkward space between the i

Bahzell assigned that one to Zarantha and Rekah the instant he saw it. The only way to it led past the room he and Brandark shared with Tothas, and, for all its shortcomings, The Brown Horse offered stout doors. With their own door open and the hradani taking watch and watch about, no one could get to Zarantha or Rekah unchallenged.

Tothas nodded approval of Bahzell’s arrangements, and this time he raised no argument over leaving the guard duty to the hradani. Indeed, he crawled into one of the beds the instant he finished supper, and Bahzell looked at Brandark and pointed to the other.

“I’ll be waking you in four hours,” he rumbled, “so you’d best not lie awake thinking of more verses for your curst song!”

Morning came noisily. None of The Brown Horse’s servants had ever heard of tiptoes, and Bahzell groaned in protest as a waiter barged in with a can of hot water. The servant dropped it beside the wash basin with an appalling bang, then trooped out like an entire company of heavy infantry, and the Horse Stealer sat up with another groan.

“My, aren’t we grumpy in the morning?” Brandark sat with his chair tipped back on two legs. “You really should cultivate a su

The thrown pillow hit hard enough to knock his chair over with a crash, and Tothas shoved up on an elbow and dragged hair out of his eyes.

“Must you two be so cheerful this early?” He cocked his head at Brandark, then glanced at Bahzell as the Bloody Sword dragged the pillow out of his face. “What’s he doing on the floor?”

“Penance,” Bahzell growled, and threw back his own blankets.

He stretched enormously, crossed to the washstand, and poured hot water into the basin, then frowned. There was no steam, and he shoved a finger into the basin and sighed. The “hot” water was barely lukewarm.

He grimaced, but it was all there was, and at least his people’s lack of facial hair meant that, unlike Tothas, he wouldn’t have to shave with it. He washed his face, rinsed and emptied the basin into the chamber pot, then checked the clothing he’d hung before the fire overnight. It was dry, and he climbed into it with only a trace of wistfulness for The Laughing God’s baths.

Brandark followed him to the basin, and Bahzell peered out the window. The rain had pulled back to blowing spatters, but a raw, gusting wind shook leafless branches like swords. It looked thoroughly miserable out there, and he hoped Zarantha was right about how long they could stay here, poor service or no.

A maid walked past their open door with another can of so-called hot water as if his thoughts of Zarantha had summoned her. She knocked much more gently than Bahzell would have anticipated and stood waiting a moment, then knocked again, harder. And then again, harder still.

Bahzell’s ears cocked as the maid knocked yet a fourth time. He knew how light a sleeper Zarantha was, and he stepped into the hall with a frown.

The maid looked back over her shoulder and squeaked as she saw him. She couldn’t have been more than fourteen, and this was her first sight of him, and she pressed her back against the closed door, hugging the water can before her like some sort of shield, her eyes huge.

“Oh, be still, girl!” he rumbled in her language, and wiggled his ears at her. “I gave over eating little girls for breakfast years ago!”

She jerked and tried to press her back through the door for just an instant, then smiled timidly at the rough humor in his voice.

“That’s better,” he encouraged. “Now what’s the to-do?”

“The lady won’t answer the door, sir,” the maid said in a tiny voice, obviously still more than a little uncertain about him.

“She won’t, hey?” Bahzell waved her aside and knocked himself. No one answered, and his amusement at the maid’s reaction vanished. He pounded again, loud enough to wake the dead, and Brandark came out into the hall behind him.

“What’s going on?”

“If I was knowing that, I wouldn’t be after pounding on this damned door!” Bahzell hammered so hard the door leapt against the bar, but still no one answered. “Fetch the landlord, Brandark. I’m not liking this one tiny bit!”

The Bloody Sword jerked a nod and thundered down the stairs while Tothas took his place in the hall. The Spearman took one look at Bahzell, then at the door, and his face went paper-white. He shoved the hradani aside and beat on the door with both fists.