Robert Adams - The Savage Mountains

Then her sloe-black gaze met Milo’s and he found her mindspeak as powerful as his own. “Zehpoor greets you, Ageless One. I am glad that the Ahrmehnee are no longer your enemies. But, friend or foe, I can tell you nothing of my Powers or of how they be wrought For this be woman’s magic, not men’s, and it is not Our Lady’s will that I betray my Sacred Vows to Her … at least not those Vows regarding healing.”

“I respect both your oaths and your silence, my lady,” beamed Milo. “But—”

The smile fully flowered as she silently interrupted. “But still are you rabid for more knowledge of my Powers, Milo of Morai. It is our Lady’s will that you shall have that knowledge—all that knowledge—but not of my revealing, not directly. The Lady Mara, that lovely, Ageless Ehleen woman you consider wife, will receive of me and transmit to you, since she is not Avowed.

“You will do much of good with that knowledge, both in this land and in that land to which you will, one day, lead the distant descendants of those who now serve you.”

A strong shudder coursed through Milo’s every fiber and he felt an icy prickling on his nerve ends. Aldora had been receiving as well, and now she mindspoke him.

“Yes, Milo, I feel it too. That eerieness, it… it’s as if dear old Blind Hari of Krooguh were speaking through her lips.” Then she beamed to the woman, saying, “When did you scan our futures, my lady, and why?”

Zehpoor answered readily. “No shade of a sightless Man of Powers speaks through me, Ageless Lady, nor did I purposely scan your futures. Rather did Our Lady reveal to me the future of the girl, Pehroosz, whom She led to my keeping. The threads of that future and of the futures of her children’s children’s children are closely tied to those of you Ageless Ones.” She paused, then added, “But of these things, too, Milo of Morai, you will know when it is Her will that you know.”

Milo’s lips smiled thinly and fleetingly. “All right, Lady Zehpoor, I’ll await the pleasure of your goddess on the bulk of these matters, but at least show me how you, a lone and unarmed female, managed to scare the wits out of the Muhkohee. According to the nahkhahrah, here, their ilk doesn’t take fright easily.”

Though Drehkos’s mindspeak was daily strengthening, it still was not on a par with those deathless two who had used it for hundreds of years, nor was it a match for that of the gifted Zehpoor, therefore he had received only bits and pieces of the silent exchanges and was utterly unprepared for what followed.

The lissome figure of the drably clad woman wavered before her audience. Then, all in the blinking of an eye, she was replaced by the awesome form of a monstrous bear, looming threateningly over Komees Hari, who was momentarily petrified with shock. Huge and horrible, black as nightmare, the sow bear stood on hind legs thick as treetrunks. Yellowish fangs gnashed and baleful red eyes flashed pure, blood-lusting menace from that gigantic head which brushed the very ridgepole—more than twelve feet above the floor. The apparition shuffled slowly forward, the long, needle-tipped claws of the forepaws lowering relentlessly toward Hari.

On the other side of the table, only the nahkhahrah had remained in his chair. Even Milo and Aldora, who had been expecting something of the sort, found themselves on their feet, steel bared, standing crouched to receive the attack.

But not so Drehkos! He was up and over the table, both sword and dirk out. His shoulder struck his brother with force, knocking him prone. “Get under the table, Hari!” he snapped. “It can’t really harm me, but it can kill you.” Then he sent the heavy dirk spinning straight for one of those satanic eyes, ducked under the threatening forepaws, and—

The bear was gone and Drehkos’s sword was stabbing the air above the head of Zehpoor. The close bond which had been the brothers’ from boyhood to the rebellion had resumed from that hour.

Therefore, as they rode down from the mountains, Hari greeted Drehkos warmly, unabashed by the knowledge that this man, his younger brother, was immortal. “Come slumming, have you?” he joshed. “You’ve then tired of the life of an Undying God, already? What’ll you do for your next fifty-odd years, brother mine?”

Drehkos did not return the smile. “Both Milo and Aldora tried to farspeak Bili last night, Hari, and they could neither of them range his mind. And that bodes ill. That bodes exceedingly ill. Who is Bill’s heir? Djef Morguhn, isn’t it?”

“No, Drehkos,” Hari sighed. “Young Djef died at the siege of Morguhn Hall, last year. Tchahrlee be next eldest, and he be already holding the duchy as deputy thoheeks … but, dammit, Drehkos, I can’t tell you why, but … but I just don’t think Bili’s dead.”

Drehkos made the Sun-sign before his face. “I pray Sacred Sun you be right, brother Hari.”

Hari reached over to touch Drehkos’s skin and mind-spoke on a strictly personal level. “And, Undying Brother, I am not alone in my faith in Bili’s ability to survive. Last night, Sir Geros Lahvoheetos and Pawl Raikuh rode southwest, along with fourscore Freefighters of the old Morguhn Troop, twice that number of warriors of the Soormehlyuhn Tribe and thirty-four of the Moon Maidens who rode north with me.

“I’m prepared to swear that I knew nothing of their intended desertion until they were long gone, Drehkos. Candidly, however, I did all I could to see them well provided, well armed and well mounted. And they know, too, that they ride with my blessing. Sun and Wind grant those brave men success, I say, for Duke Bili is a man in a million, Steel keep him.”

It had been full night before Kogh and Zehpoor had had the opportunity to find a place apart. His first words were simple and blunt.

“It is really you then, Zehpoor Frainyuhn?” She had smiled a little sadly. “Yes, father-in-law-who-might-have-been, I am Zehpoor of the Tribe of Frainyuhn, daughter of Kehroon. How … how is Behdrohz, your son?”

“He is dead these twenty years, child, killed on a raid against the Duhnkin Stahn. They all told him that you were dead, Zehpoor. Your father showed him your grave. Why were we so deceived?”

The woman hung her head, half-whispering. “I am so very sorry, Der Kogh, so very very sorry. But my poor father had no choice. Mother Djainoosh announced suddenly that she had chosen me. She would not relent even when she was told it was your son I was promised to. What else could my father do?”

His arm went about her shoulders in a gentle embrace. “Nothing but what he did do, child. Do not grieve, I understand, and I am certain that my fine, brave Behdrohz would have, too. I can but regret that he is not here to see how lovely is that woman I choose to bear my grandchildren. The Taishyuhns would have made you both welcome and happy, Zehpoor.”

The lamplight glinted from her hair as she raised her head. “And does that welcome still stand, nahkhahrahll. A faint smile tugged at her lips. “Would still Zehpoor Frainyuhn be made happy in the Taishyuhn Tribe?”

“Why … why, of course, child, if you wish to give up your Vows. I have no sons left to wed you, but the winter has been hard and there are certain widowers …” His high forehead crinkled in concentration. “Let’s see, there is a man, a hetman of a large, prosperous village. He is a raider of some renown and his house is rich with his spoils. Though he was one of my Behdrohz’s cronies, age sits lightly on him and he is a strong and lusty man, he—”

She shook her head forcefully. “Not good enough.”

“Well,” the nahkhahrah tugged at his earlobe, “he’s not a Taishyuhn, but I know of a dehrehbeh who recently lost a wife. But he be an older man.”