David Weber - Oath of Swords

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Whom the gods would recruit, they first tick off...Our Hero: The unlikely Paladin, Bahzell Bahnakson of the Horse Stealer Hradani. He's no knight in shining armor. He's a hradani, a race known for their uncontrollable rages, bloodthirsty tendencies, and inability to maintain civilized conduct. None of the other Five Races of man like the hradani. Besides his ethnic burden, Bahzell has problems of his own to deal with: a violated hostage bond, a vengeful prince, a price on his head. He doesn't want to mess with anybody else's problems, let alone a god's. Let alone the War God's! So how does he end up a thousand leagues from home, neck-deep in political intrigue, assassins, demons, psionicists, evil sorcery, white sorcery, dark gods, good gods, bad poets, greedy landlords, and most of Bortalik Bay? Well, it's all the War God's fault....

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“D’you think he really believed he could kill me with such as that and not be found out?”

“Bahzell, if he’d hit you with that dart, you’d never have known a thing about it,” Talamar said grimly. “Didn’t you see it?”

“Not clear,” the hradani rumbled, “and your Guard captain was after taking it with him when he left.”

“It was tipped with mindanwe sap. A scratch of that, and you’re gone in seconds. All anyone would think would be that your heart had burst-which it would have-and once you were down, he’d’ve bent over you to ‘help’ and picked the dart back out while he pretended to ‘examine’ you.”

A shiver rippled up Bahzell’s spine. Poison. The most loathsome weapon of a coward, but an effective one.

“Begging your pardon, and don’t take this wrongly, but it sounds as if you’ve experience of such,” he murmured.

“I do. Alwith and I served in a troop of freeswords up in Ferenmoss some years back. That civil war is a nightmare, but at least it offers steady work for mercenaries. Only our troop must have been a bit too good, because someone on the other side set the dog brothers on us. We lost half our officers in less than two weeks, and Alwith and I caught the bastard who killed our captain with one of those damned blowguns. He was a good man, Captain Vakhan, and any time I can get sword into the same kind of scum who murdered him-”

Talamar broke off with yet another shrug, almost an apologetic one, and Bahzell touched his shoulder.

“I’m sorry for your captain, but grateful you saw this coming.”

“I suppose some good comes of almost anything,” the Angcaran sighed, then gave himself a brisk shake. “In the meantime, I’ve put out the word, and a dozen mercs will be dropping by shortly. They’re good men-most of them were with us in Ferenmoss-and they’ve settled in to pass the winter here. When they hear about dog brothers in Angcar, they’ll be only too happy to spend a night or two drinking our ale, so you and your people get what sleep you can.”

“Aye, we’ll be doing that,” Bahzell agreed, and beckoned to Brandark to follow as he started up the stairs.

***

They did get some sleep, but not immediately. Zarantha was still up-not surprisingly-and insisted on rechecking the work she’d done on their wounds. And then, of course, Bahzell had to tell her what had happened and as much as they’d been able to guess about why. He did not mention any nocturnal visits by goddesses, but that was hardly relevant anyway.

Zarantha heard him out with remarkable calm, but her dark eyes were haunted when he finished. Rekah sat quietly beside Tothas’ bed, her oval face white, yet she said nothing, and Bahzell touched Zarantha’s knee gently.

“Lass,” he said, abandoning the “My Ladies” he usually remembered to use, “you’ve bought into more trouble with us than we’d any notion, either of us. I’m knowing you’ve need of help to get home, but it’s in my mind you might best be considering whether it’s our help you need.”

“Because of the dog brothers?”

“Of course because of the dog brothers! I’ve told you why Harnak wants me dead-aye, and his father, too-and a pair of hradani aren’t after being the hardest targets to spot. We’re like to bring them down on you again, and-” He paused, then sighed. “Lass, d’you think Brandark and I don’t know you’ve troubles of your own? We’re not wishful to make them worse.”

“After the way I trapped you into this?” Zarantha blinked damply, and Bahzell shrugged.

“As for that, I’ve no one to blame but myself for mixing in your troubles in the first place, and it was you kept me out of jail and away from ni’Tarth’s daggers. Aye, and so far as that goes, the dog brothers would’ve been more than pleased to have me penned up in a cell like a sheep on slaughtering day!”

“No one to blame but yourself,” Zarantha murmured. She swiped a hand across her eyes and smiled at him. “You’re not nearly so hard a man as you’d have people think, are you, Bahzell Bahnakson? First that girl in Navahk, then me. And do you think I haven’t seen the way you watch after Tothas?”

He looked away uncomfortably, and it was her turn to pat his knee.

“Tell me this, Bahzell. If I were able to find someone else to see us the rest of the way home, what would you and Brandark do?”

“Well, we couldn’t be staying here, for if one thing’s sure it’s that the dog brothers know our whereabouts.”

“So you’d be moving on anyway?”

“Aye, that we would.”

“In that case, if you’re still willing, I’d rather move on with you. As you say, I’ve troubles of my own, and-”

She broke off, almost against her will, and shook her head. The Horse Stealer looked closely at her, recognizing her temptation to tell him whatever she’d so far concealed, but he recognized her decision not to, as well. He felt disappointed, yet not truly resentful. Whatever it was, he’d already accepted its seriousness, and her willingness to continue in company with two hradani marked for death by the Assassins Guild only reinforced his sense of her desperation.

“All right, then,” he sighed. “If that’s the way of it, then we’ll be staying with you, and I’m only hoping it’s not a choice we’ll both regret.”

Chapter Twenty

They stayed three days at The Laughing God without further incident. The Guard dropped by at odd times on no set schedule, Talamar’s mercenary friends made the taproom their permanent headquarters, and if business was down, Alwith was almost cheerful when Bahzell apologized for it.

“Talamar’s right,” the landlord said, “once they’re not worried about getting caught in the middle, they’ll be spilling out the windows while they tell each other how brave they were. Half of ’em will be convinced they fought the dog brothers off while your lot just watched!”

It was windy and cold when they finally set out again-with the brothers Ratherson’s invitation to return in, um, more peaceable times-but it was also clear and dry, and the rest had done Tothas good. He was in far less pain, and his coughs, when they came, were ghosts of his previous terrible spasms. Even their animals seemed more cheerful; indeed, Zarantha had to stop her mule from biting Bahzell three times the first day out.

But clear weather or no, all of them felt wariness tingling in their blood like an extra layer of frost, and Tothas was no longer excused watch duty. He and the women between them took the first watch each night, before the full cold set in. Bahzell had the second watch, and when Tothas turned in at last, it was to find the hradani had gotten up early and tucked a heated stone into his blankets to take the chill off them.

It was as well he did, for the last leaves had vanished. By this time, Bahzell knew, Hurgrum was covered in snow; this far south, it was merely cold. Bitterly cold-far colder than he’d expected. Tothas assured him it was an unseasonal cold snap that would ease-for a time, at least-soon, but that was scant comfort as he watched his breath plume and felt the ground like iron under his feet.

Almost as worrisome as the weather, the road started getting worse from the moment they left Angcar; by the time they approached Angthyr’s border with the Empire of the Spear, it was no more than dirt. The upper inch or so was frozen, but Bahzell felt it give under his weight in low spots, and the slight, stiff flexing promised unfrozen water below. If they got the warmer weather Tothas predicted, it was going to turn into a bottomless bog.

The thought filled him with gloom, yet it was but one of many things he had to feel gloomy over. He no longer wore himself out with worry in his dreams; now he got to do it while he was awake, because he knew what the dreams had been about . And as if gods with missions weren’t enough, the dog brothers were after him, as well. Nor had Zarantha’s worries-whatever the Phrobus they were!-lightened. He’d suggested, once, that when they crossed into the empire she might find shelter while she sent word ahead to her father. After all, she’d be on her own ground then, no longer among foreigners, even if she was still a long way from home, but she’d answered with a single, almost spastic headshake. A grim shadow in Tothas’ eyes had echoed her refusal, and Bahzell and Brandark had decided to concentrate on more immediate problems-like the weather, visiting gods, and the imminence of dog brother attack-and let the rest of the future take care of itself.

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