Honored Enemy
‘You should not be out riding,’ Dennis said, looking over at Wolfgar.
The old man coughed, leaned over in his saddle and spat. ‘The day is warm enough. I can’t stay cooped up forever. Damn me, if the ride is the end of my life here, well I can only think of a couple of better ways to die, and the preferred method of my leaving is one I will not discuss in front of my daughters, so shut up and stop trying to nurse an old man.’
He leaned over and gently swatted Dennis across the back of the head.
Asayaga watched the exchange and saw the look in Dennis’s eyes, a momentary warmth for an old lost friend, an absent reaching out to pat Wolfgar on the knee. He could also see Roxanne watching the two of them, but Dennis did not notice, his gaze had shifted instead to Alyssa.
Asayaga felt a surge of jealousy and it bothered him. Alyssa had, throughout their stay, remained aloof, bearing herself like a princess of the court, required to entertain guests, but obviously feeling that one worthy of her attention had yet to arrive. But at this moment, as she gazed upon him, he wondered. She wore the hint of a smile at Dennis’s attention and then she edged her horse away. She turned as she did so, and looked down at Asayaga.
‘A feast tonight, Asayaga, in honour of your first kill. That is an old tradition.’
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He bowed formally. ‘We cannot tonight, my lady. The fasting for the Day of Atonement begins at sundown and lasts till sundown tomorrow.’
‘What is this?’ Wolfgar asked.
‘Our tradition on the feast day of the god Hilio, the Judge of Life. It is a day set aside for fasting, meditation, and the seeking of atonement for the wrongs committed over the last year.’ He ventured a slight smile at Alyssa. ‘I’m not entirely sure this is the right day, for I have lost some count of time since we encountered Dennis’s forces, but I believe it to be close enough. On our world, it is celebrated with the first rising of the new moon after midwinter. I think the god will be tolerant.’
‘Then when your fasting is done,’ Alyssa offered.
‘I thank you, my lady.’
‘You may choose who shall sit by your side.’
He smiled. ‘Then of course, my lady, I will ask that it be you.’
She laughed softly. ‘I am honoured.’
She turned away, but as she did so, her eyes stayed on him and he felt his heart freeze. It was the subtle sign he had heard poets speak of, the gaze of a woman over her shoulder, the looking back with eyes half-lowered, the indicator that she was indeed interested in him.
In the nine long years he had been trapped on this world not once had he known such a moment. Like any of the men of his unit he had turned more than once to the camp followers, but that was a deed of the moment, something without meaning. This was different and he wondered if here was someone who could touch his heart after so many years of loneliness.
The moment vanished like smoke as she slowly trotted away, nonchalantly calling for her father to ride back to the stockade.
‘I’ll come back when I’m damn good and ready,’ Wolfgar growled, but even as he spoke his gaze was on Asayaga.
Asayaga looked around, wondering if Dennis and Roxanne had sensed the moment as well and knew that they had. And then he wondered if Alyssa was simply playing a game of flirtation and that he was reading far too much into what had just happened. Yet he could sense coolness on the part of Dennis, and an almost amused disdain from Roxanne as she lightly sprang into the saddle and set off after her sister, leaving the three men alone.
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Wolfgar watched as the two girls wove through the trees and down the slope, disappearing from view. Asayaga could sense the intense love the old man felt, for a bit of a wistful smile lit his features as if he were remembering something from long ago. He sighed and looked back to see that the two men were watching him and that he had been caught off guard.
‘A favour to ask,’ the old man sighed.
‘Anything,’ Dennis replied.
‘Keep an eye on them.’
‘Of course.’
‘No, I don’t think you fully understand. We both know what will happen here soon. Your foes will not leave you here in peace. I would suspect that even now they have watchers on the northern passes.’
As he spoke he pointed to where, through the trees, the distant peaks that rimmed in the valley were clearly visible. The tallest of the pinnacles trailed a wispy streamer of clouds. ‘If they don’t today, they will have them there by the time you’re ready to leave.’
‘I have my patrols out,’ Dennis replied. ‘The approaches you told me to picket are watched.’
‘Even your patrols will not see everything,’ Wolfgar replied.
‘It could be weeks yet, perhaps not until spring,’ Asayaga ventured.
‘Let’s hope so,’ Wolfgar replied. ‘I’d like things here to last a bit longer. I’ve had nearly twenty good years in this valley. A strange place for me, who was once the toast of the royal court, to spin out his days.’ He laughed and shook his head. ‘The first few years hiding here, I thought I’d go mad with it. A bunch of drunken louts to sing my ballads to. Oh, they thought me amusing enough – if they hadn’t, someone would have slipped a dagger between my ribs, in-laws are like that. But the years spun out, my two little ones grew, became young ladies and now . . .’
His voice trailed off and he lowered his head. Asayaga was startled to see tears in the old man’s eyes.
‘You don’t realize just how quickly the years pass until it happens to you. Someone of your years still thinks there’s all the time in the world. Then one day you awake and you see the first wisps of grey in your beard, but you still feel strong enough, you can still tumble 226
a wench and make her laugh come morning, you still think you have the entire world.
‘Then, one day, the girls you once so eagerly pursued, why, they are off chasing boys who seem like children to you, for in fact they are children compared to you!’
‘You still have the fire in you,’ Asayaga offered, smiling.
Wolfgar held out a trembling hand. ‘I can barely hold my feasting cup without it slopping over me: it’s been years since I could curl these fingers around a lute, let alone around the plump backside of any of the serving-girls. So don’t lie to me, lad, though I bless you for trying.’
Wolfgar’s gaze lingered on the mountain tops.
‘They’ll come over that pass. It’s hard to defend, too broad at the top. When they hit, take the pass to the west; I doubt if they know of it. Roxanne can guide you. Take everyone with you.’
‘You’ll guide us,’ Dennis offered, a note of concern in his voice.
Wolfgar shook his head. ‘My last wife is buried here. My happiest memories are of this place. No, I think I’ll stay.’
‘No.’ Dennis snapped the one word out, his voice filled with bitterness.
Wolfgar leaned back over, his trembling hand resting on Dennis’s shoulder. Asayaga could see the sudden anguish in Dennis and understood. Here was a man who had no one, who thought himself completely alone, and then by the pure randomness of fate had rediscovered a long-lost friend from his childhood. It would be even harder to lose him again.
‘You know it must be,’ Wolfgar offered. ‘I would only slow you down and the first night in the cold would most likely kill me anyhow.
I’d prefer to die in my own feasting hall, my written ballads spread on the table before me, a good cup of mead in my hand.’
Dennis, sensing Asayaga’s gaze, turned away, head lowered. ‘Yes,’
he whispered. ‘You’re right, damn it. I’m sorry we ever found this place.’
‘I’m not. The war is spreading this way. Things in the north are stirring. It would have only been a matter of time before they came here. I think it a blessing. I know my girls will be safe, the other women and children as well. That was what I have been worried 227
about ever since the men of this place disappeared.’ Wolfgar patted him on the shoulder. ‘That’s w
hy I ask you to protect my girls. I know what happens with girls who march with soldiers. I want better for them than that.’
He looked over at Asayaga.
‘No offence meant.’
‘And none taken. You speak as any father would and I swear my oath to you that I shall protect their honour with my sword and life.’
As he spoke, Asayaga drew his hunting dagger and turned it so that the hilt was pointed towards the old man, thus showing his pledge-bond. Wolfgar smiled and bowed formally from the saddle, revealing for a moment the training and breeding of old when he had performed in the courts of kings.
‘I know what the two of you intend to do once you’re free of pursuit: to take up your old war again. If the two of you are fate doomed to do that, I ask that you pledge before each other now that whoever survives will see my girls to safety, to somewhere beyond the wars.’
Dennis’s eyes which had softened for a moment, now glazed over again into hardness.
‘I pledge it,’ Dennis said without enthusiasm and Asayaga did likewise.
Wolfgar noisily cleared his throat and wiped his eyes. ‘Foolish tears of an old man,’ he said huskily.
He reined his mount around and motioned for the two to fall in by his side. Together they started down the slope to the stockade walking in silence.
The afternoon was getting late, the sun starting to slip behind the western mountains, the long shadows of the peaks spreading out across the valley. Off to his left Asayaga could see another hunting party coming in, several Kingdom archers followed by half a dozen Tsurani, a couple of his men armed with bows as well.
The gates of the stockade were open and the bath-house constructed by Asayaga’s men within days after their arrival was a hive of activity, smoke billowing from the chimney, a swarm of naked men spilling out of the doorway, laughing, jumping into the slushy snow 228
– Gregory, who looked almost bear like in their midst, bellowing from the shock. The Kingdom men were all from the north and the ritual of a snow roll after a midwinter’s bath had caught on with the Tsurani. The Kingdom men seemed to be on the verge of addiction to the Tsurani tubs. Unlike Kingdom bathing, where you’d sit in a tub while someone else poured water over your head
– often cold – the Tsurani had built large round wooden tubs, large enough to hold half a dozen people each. The water was warmed ingeniously, by heating up large rocks and lowering them into the water in a metal cage, over and over, until the water seemed to be on the verge of scalding. Dennis had almost ordered the project halted when a few of the rocks had exploded upon heating, but Asayaga had insisted it was a common problem on his homeworld and that no one would be in danger once the rock had survived the first heating.
Dennis felt no pleasure at the sight of the cavorting men. The Tsurani had no shame, he had come to learn, and bathed openly in front of others, men or women, and his Marauders were becoming equally uninhibited. He did not consider this a good thing.
Other men piled into the bath-house, hanging up their tunics on pegs hammered into the outside wall, then sitting on the steps to pull off their foot-wrappings or boots before venturing in.
‘I still say it’s dangerous,’ Wolfgar grumbled. ‘All that hot water opens up the skin so evil vapours can get in and make you sick.’
‘How many of your men have boils?’ Asayaga asked, looking over at Dennis.
‘I don’t know. A dozen or so.’
‘Diseases of the skin, you Kingdom soldiers are riddled with it.
You’re the filthiest people I’ve ever laid eyes on. How often do you bathe? Once a year whether you need it or not?’
‘Like Wolfgar said, it’s unhealthy. It’s fine for women but they’re different.’
Asayaga laughed and shook his head. ‘Try it with me.’
‘What?’
‘The bath. Yes, you, Hartraft: or are you afraid?’
Wolfgar threw back his head and laughed. ‘He’s got you.’
‘We don’t have much time before evening parade, so will you?’
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‘Getting the dirt off you might make Alyssa notice you,’ Wolfgar interjected with a grin, ‘or even Roxanne.’
As if the mention of their names was a summons, the two daughters, along with several of the women of the stockade, came out of the gate wrapped in heavy towels, laughing and pointing at the men cavorting in the slush. The sight of them caused the Kingdom soldiers to scramble, running up to grab their tunics and pull them on, a sight which made Asayaga burst into laughter since the short jackets barely covered their backsides. Gregory, grinning, took his time, waving casually to the girls. The Tsurani nodded politely, but made no attempt to hide their nakedness.
Wolfgar urged his mount forward and rode up to his daughters, but it was obvious within seconds that whatever his objections the women were going into the sauna.
‘If it wasn’t his daughters going in there,’ Asayaga ventured, ‘I dare say that old man would go in as well, and it wouldn’t be so he could get clean.’
Dennis actually smiled.
‘Well, Hartraft,’ Asayaga asked, ‘are you going in?’
‘What? Now?’ He looked over at Alyssa who was sitting on the steps, pulling off her boots.
‘Yes, now. Back home men and women bathe together all the time.’
‘I don’t know. These are respectable girls, they’re my friend’s daughters.’
‘The others aren’t?’ Asayaga laughed at Dennis’s discomfort.
‘The women here have been doing this since we built the bath.
They understand the customs.’
‘Still.’
The serving-girls led the group in, Roxanne and Alyssa following, and as the door closed again Alyssa gave him that backward glance.
‘Well, if you aren’t, I am,’ Asayaga announced, and heading over to the rough-hewn platform in front of the sauna he casually started to disrobe.
Dennis slowly walked over.
‘If I hear of anything going on in there –’ Wolfgar announced.
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‘It won’t be your daughters,’ Asayaga replied. ‘I made my pledge.
But as for the others, old man, think of all that you are missing.’
Wolfgar grinned slyly. ‘Oh, you don’t know if I’ve missed it or not!’ Laughing, he reined his horse around and rode back into the stockade.
Stripping naked, Asayaga hung up his tunic, trousers and footwrappings and leaned his bow and quiver against the log wall. Even as he did so he had a sudden sharp memory of home, of the bath-house in his village, a beautiful place for the baths were the centre of any town and as such a place of pride for the villagers. It was built of the best stone, fine grained marble offset with lovely blue tiles, with hot and cold baths, hot-air rooms and steam, then afterwards you could lounge on the deck overlooking the sea and sip warm tea. His father’s estate had large bathing tubs, of course, but as a boy Asayaga had preferred bathing in the village. Men and women might bathe without modesty, but a adolescent boy was an adolescent boy, he remembered with mild amusement. He had met his first lover at the bath, a girl who regarded him boldly, even though he was the son of a noble.
He looked around, aware again of just how alien this world was: the forest, snow-capped mountains; the marble and tiles replaced by logs with the bark still on them, the cracks between them chinked with dried mud and straw.
And yet, if given a choice at this moment, he wondered if he could return. In spite of all that he knew would transpire in the days ahead, at this moment he felt completely free. The Great Game, at least for now, was far away. Granted there was still his lieutenant Sugama to contend with, but ever since their arrival in Wolfgar’s valley, Sugama had been relatively quiet, his embarrassment on the first night’s feast having silenced him. There was no commander above him, no one from another clan manoeuvring to get him killed or humiliated. He was free.
He looked over at Dennis who was slowly, and none too eagerly, removing his jacket to
reveal a sweat-stained undershirt that was ragged and grey with filth. Yes, Hartraft was the enemy, and in the ways of war and killing with stealth he was indeed frightful and unrelenting. But he was also straightforward and without guile in 231
his dealings. He would find the Great Game inconceivable. There was no hidden meaning within meanings, no subtlety within him; if he planned to kill someone he said so, then did it. He did it remorselessly, and without feeling, but he did it while looking his opponent in the eye.
As Dennis pulled off his shirt Asayaga was surprised by the scars that laced Hartraft’s slender frame. A pink knot just below his left collarbone, from either an arrow or a rapier wound looked barely healed. As he pulled off his trousers Asayaga could see where his left calf had been sliced nearly in half, most likely a blow from someone down on the ground, and there was another wound on the thigh, a bolt apparently having gone clear through his leg.
‘You’ve been cut up as well,’ Dennis said, as if reading Asayaga’s thoughts, and pointed to the white knot of a scar on the Tsurani’s chest.
Asayaga nodded. ‘An arrow at the Battle of Walinor. Went clean through me,’ and he half-turned to show the exit wound.
‘Better when they do, digging an arrow out of the chest, it usually kills a man. You’re lucky to have survived it.’
‘We have some good healers, better than the priest even.’
‘Corwin? He’s all right, or at least I think he is.’
Asayaga sensed something. ‘You think he is?’
‘Nothing, at least not for now.’
Asayaga nodded. From inside the bath-house laughter echoed.
‘Ready for this, Hartraft?’
Dennis seemed unsure of himself and Asayaga felt a momentary pleasure in that. It was good to see the legendary Hartraft off balance, even if it was over nothing more than walking naked into a steamy room with women present.
‘Don’t worry,’ he offered finally. ‘The custom when women are present is for everyone to keep a small towel on for modesty. You’ll find them inside the door. So let’s go.’