Honored Enemy

  Wolfgar threw a dark look over his shoulder at his daughter, then raised his voice. ‘Pimply-faced, with the brain of a drunken hare.

  Typical of her mother’s kin, and like a hare always fumbling after her. I was half-contemplating killing him myself.’

  ‘As if you’re an example of model behaviour,’ Roxanne replied coolly, and Wolfgar laughed at her response.

  ‘Roxanne, named after her mother,’ Wolfgar said, nodding back.

  ‘She took the name because her mother died giving her life.’

  Again Asayaga stood, bowed and offered his formal greeting as did Dennis. Roxanne accepted both without comment.

  Sitting back down, Asayaga found his gaze lingering on Alyssa who was leaning over and whispering something into her father’s ear. He laughed uproariously and slapped her on the thigh.

  Mindful again of his duty, Asayaga tore his attention away from her charms and carefully gazed around the room, chiding himself for his momentary lapse before the barbarian and his daughter. Too 188

  many years in the field, he thought. Too many months since last he had known a woman.

  He studied the condition of his men. Almost all them were still concentrating on gorging themselves, hands reaching for food and drink. The noise was slowly rising, conversations starting, punctuated by ripples of laughter. In places he saw where Kingdom troops and his own were even trying to talk to one another. He caught a glimpse of two soldiers moving their hands about in pantomime and from their gestures he guessed they were talking about women. One of them laughed as the other, grinning, made a universal gesture.

  He caught Tasemu’s eye. The Strike Leader was at the far end of the table, flagon in hand, leaning back, watching carefully.

  Interestingly, the Kingdom sergeant – whose name he had learned was Barry, sat beside Tasemu, flagon in hand as well, the two of them almost like mirror-images of each other. Both were doing their jobs, silently watching. Barry nudged Tasemu and nodded to where several Tsurani seemed to be in a heated argument. In fact they were debating the merits of who was the best wrestler in the army. Tasemu merely grunted and smiled, the gesture enough to reassure Barry.

  To one side Asayaga saw Sugama who was eating quietly, delicately, carefully taking each piece of fish with only his thumb and forefinger in the proper noble manner, while talking quietly with a few of Asayaga’s men. Asayaga felt a moment’s disquiet. In only a few days could this minor son of a rival house have gained a following? He studied the faces of the four men who were with him and realized that all were younger sons and brothers, men whose destiny was to linger as soldiers in a minor house until they were granted leave to wed and start families, living on a small parcel of land granted them by the Lord of the Tondora. It was just this sort of man who might be lured to betray his oath for promises of a higher station through adoption into a new house.

  Then when Sugama turned to take an offered flagon of ale from one of the local boys, two of Asayaga’s men exchanged a smirk and a silently-mouthed word, and Asayaga realized they were mocking Sugama behind his back, enduring his company for the sake of entertainment. Asayaga let out a silent sigh and allowed the tension 189

  to flow from his body. Even here, as remote as any Tsurani had ever been from the Empire, he worried over the Great Game and the loyalty of men of his own household.

  A Kingdom soldier pushed a platter of roasted boar over Sugama’s way, and one of Sugama’s companions pushed it back, his comment lost in the general uproar, but Asayaga could read lips well enough to know that one of the worst of insults had been spoken softly, words that the Kingdom soldier did not understand and therefore let pass.

  Asayaga marked the man and made a note to have Tasemu speak with him later; he might be loyal, but he was also stupid to provoke needlessly a man who might save his life in the days to come.

  A roar of laughter erupted and Asayaga saw where two soldiers, one from each side were standing, full flagons in hand. Someone slapped the table hard and the two started to drain their flagons, gulping down the contents, the Kingdom soldier winning handily.

  Again laughter and a few coins were traded, a Tsurani having shrewdly bet against his own comrade and thus gaining a rare and precious piece of silver that was worth more than an entire suit of armour. When the loser realized what his comrade had done a heated argument ensued to the delight of the Kingdom soldiers around them.

  A platter containing a half-consumed marmot was pushed down to Asayaga and in spite of feeling bloated he reached into the body, pulled out a leg-bone and sucked the meat off.

  ‘Hey, Ass-you. Just how the hell can you eat that?’

  Asayaga looked over at Wolfgar and started to bristle. Then he caught Alyssa’s bemused stare. Without comment he pushed the platter to Wolfgar. ‘Try it.’

  Wolfgar belched loudly and shook his head. ‘I’d sooner eat horse dung that was still warm. And tell me, why do you Tsurani smell funny? By the gods, I think you were a bunch of temple harlots.’

  The conversation around them drifted off, though Asayaga’s men did not understand the words, they knew enough of Wolfgar after one day to sense that their leader was being baited.

  ‘It’s because we don’t smell,’ Asayaga replied.

  ‘How is that? You speak in riddles.’

  ‘Because we bathe the way all civilized men do. You’re smelling 190

  someone who is clean, which is more than I can say for you. I think the butt end of a she bear in heat smells better in comparison to you.’

  He said the words calmly, but there was the slightest flicker of a smile at the corners of lips.

  Wolfgar stared at him intently and then threw back his head and roared with laughter. ‘By the gods you and I shall have a game of insults some night. You strike me as a civilized man who knows something beyond half a dozen of the crudest words which any idiot can let dribble out of his face.’

  ‘An honour,’ Asayaga replied. ‘But the name is Asayaga, not Ass-you.’ The flicker of a smile had disappeared and he spoke the words with intensity.

  Wolfgar nodded and said nothing. Finally he leant over and reached into the marmot to pull out a piece of meat. His gesture elicited a scattering of applause from the men who had been watching the interchange.

  ‘Daughters!’ Wolfgar cried, changing the subject and waving expansively to the men gathered around the table. ‘Take your choice of one of these. Better breeding-stock than what was stabled here before. One of them might be man enough to put up with your evil tempers and barbed tongues.’

  Alyssa laughed coyly and lowered her eyes, raising them again for a second to gaze at Asayaga. Dennis, noticing the exchange of glances, muttered into his cup and then gazed straight ahead.

  ‘Virginity is preferable,’ Roxanne replied coolly, hands resting on her slender hips.

  Wolfgar, laughing, picked up a flagon and handed it back to her and she took it, drained what was left and then tossed it aside. Then the flicker of a smile creased her face, and Wolfgar reached up and patted her on the cheek.

  ‘You always did have more of my blood in you than your mother’s.’

  ‘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; 191

  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 father’s 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 hand’s-span away from Sugama.

  The hall fell instantly silent, everyone looking from the quivering bolt and then to Roxanne.

  ‘In my father’s 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 Tasemu’s 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 Alwin’s 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, that’s my blood!’ Wolfgar roared. ‘That’s the type of women 192

  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 Wolfgar’s 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 Kingdom’s 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 I’m 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 father’s side, silently listening to Wolfgar, while tears had flowed unchecked down his cheeks. The song was about duty, 193

  honour, and sacrifice, and Dennis wondered at Wolfgar’s 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 Dennis’s 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.

  ‘I’ve 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.

  ‘They’re 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.

  ‘We’re going to be stuck here for a while,’ Dennis said. ‘The only way out now is through the high passes and they’ll 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. We’ve injured them.

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  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?’

  ‘That’s 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.’

  Asayaga turned and stepped closer until they were only inches apart. He looked up into Dennis’s 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 Wolfgar’s long house. ‘We’re 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 won’t 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, I’d better go in and tell my men to stop drinking and prepare. You’d 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.’

  195

  ‘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?’

  ‘Don’t press me, Tsurani: the ice we tread on is thin.’

  ‘Go on then, say what you want.’

  ‘We’ll 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: don’t 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.’

  ‘You’re 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 don’t 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.

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  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.