David Weber - Wind Rider's Oath

Fortunately, Taraman Wararrow, the senior priest of Tomanâk in Balthar, had proved a broad-minded sort of fellow. He'd actually taken the arrival of a clutch of bloodthirsty Horse Stealer hradani claiming to be servants of the War God in stride. And he'd managed to convince Sir Markhalt Ravencaw, the commander of the small detachment of the Order's knights and lay brothers assigned to the Balthar temple, to go along with him, as well.

The Order wasn't as well represented in the Kingdom of the Sothōii as it was in the Empire of the Axe or the Empire of the Spear. It was respected, of course. Indeed, the King's younger brother, Prince Yurokhas, was an outspoken member of the Order, and the temples of Tomanâk were usually well attended. But the Order itself maintained only two official chapters in the entire Kingdom: one in Sothofalas, King Markhos' capital, and one in Nachfalas, where its members could keep an eye on the Ghoul Moor and the river brigands. Those two chapters maintained detachments on semipermanent assignment to the temples in most of the Sothōii's cities and larger towns, but the bulk of their manpower remained concentrated in their home chapter houses. Which meant that the eighteen members of the Hurgrum Chapter who had accompanied Bahzell, Kaeritha, and Hurthang to Balthar actually out numbered Sir Markhalt's detachment.

Markhalt and Father Taraman might have taken the Horse Stealers' arrival in stride, after the first inevitable moments of eye-goggling shock. One or two members of Markhalt's detachment had found the situation much more difficult to accept, however. And if the members of the Order itself had qualms, it was scarcely surprising that Sothōii who were not members of the Order (and did remember the better part of a millennium of mutual hradani-Sothōii slaughter), had profound reservations about the entire notion.

But despite that, the situation had seemed to be under control when Bahzell and Brandark returned to Hurgrum for their brief visit with Prince Bahnak. If it hadn't seemed that way, Bahzell would never have gone.

"How bad is it?" he asked now.

"Mostly naught but words, although I'll not deny some of 'em have been uglier than I'd've stomached without blood if I'd only myself to be thinking of. But it's in my mind that at least some of them as've been flinging those words about are hopeful some of our lads will slip into the Rage if they goad 'em hard enough."

"That would be just a bit hard on whoever provoked them into it," Brandark observed in a tone whose mildness fooled no one.

"True," Kaeritha agreed. "But I think Hurthang is right. And I've noticed that when the hecklers are at their most provocative, there's usually a crowd around." Bahzell cocked his ears at her, and she shrugged. "They may actually be foolish enough to think that a dozen or so friends would be enough to save them from a hradani in the Rage."

"Maybe some folk would be," Bahzell snorted, "but these people are after knowing hradani better than most. I'm thinking as how it would take a mighty stupid Sothōii to be making that particular mistake."

"And has it been your observation that most blind, pigheaded, dyed-in-the-wool bigots aren't stupid?" Kaeritha inquired.

"Not to mention easy to manipulate," Brandark added, and Bahzell nodded unhappily.

"Aye, there's truth enough in that," he conceded. "I'd sooner be able to say there wasn't, but wishing won't make it so." He shook his head. "I've a nasty feeling there's more than one set of manipulators in it, too."

"Likely enough," Kaeritha agreed. "And I doubt it's going to get much better anytime soon."

"Well, at least we're not after having Gharnal to worry about," Hurthang said with a grimace.

"Ah, well, as to that . . ." Bahzell allowed his voice to trail off, and Hurthang looked at him with sudden sharp suspicion.

"Aye?" he prompted ominously as Bahzell's pause stretched out.

"Well, it's just that I've a message for you from Vaijon," Bahzell said, and Hurthang's suspicious eye narrowed.

Sir Vaijon of Almerhas was the youthful knight who'd been assigned to the Belhadan chapter of the Order of Tomanâk when Bahzell arrived there. His anti-hradani prejudices had been so hugely offended by the idea of a hradani champion of Tomanâk that he'd found himself facing Bahzell in trial by combat. He'd entered the combat arrogantly certain of victory only to emerge astonished by his own survival, and somehow the youngster had ended up not only a champion of Tomanâk himself, but the sword brother Bahzell had left behind to oversee the organization of the hradani branch of the Order.

"And just what might it be that Vaijon's after telling me?" Hurthang demanded.

"As to that, most of it's after being routine enough," Bahzell said in a reassuring tone. "He says as how Father's deeded another manor to the Order, at Tharkhul, up on the Hangnysti. And he's been after making progress getting the new Bloody Swords settled in amongst us nasty Horse Stealers. And-"

"And something about Gharnal, I'm thinking?" Hurthang rumbled.

"Well, aye," Bahzell agreed with a slow smile. "There was after being something about him."

"Then you'd best be spitting it out while I'm still remembering you're after being a champion and all so I'm not supposed to be thumping your head for you," Hurthang told him grimly.

"It's naught to be worrying about at all, at all," Bahzell said soothingly. "Naught but a little matter of a reassignment, as you might be saying."

"Bahzell!" It was Kaeritha, with a twinkle in her eye. "You're not saying that Vaijon is assigning Gharnal to Hurthang?"

"Aye," Bahzell said, with an expression of consummate innocence. "And why shouldn't he be?"

" Gharnal? " Hurthang stared at him, then shook his head. Gharnal, Bahzell's foster brother, possessed many good qualities, however . . .

"Bahzell," Kaeritha said for Hurthang, "Gharnal isn't exactly, um . . . how shall I say this? Not exactly the most tactful member of the order. In fact, he's the only person I know who makes you and Hurthang look like effete, overcivilized diplomats. What in the world is Vaijon thinking of?"

"As to that, I'm not so very sure," Bahzell acknowledged. "It was after being Gharnal's very own idea, but Vaijon says as how it 'felt' right when he asked. As to why Gharnal might be wanting to be sent into such as this, I've no least idea what maggot's invaded his brain, and no more does he, as far as I can be telling. But let's us be honest here, Hurthang. Vaijon's been after making less mistakes with the Order than you or I most likely would, so I'm thinking we'd best not quibble here." He flicked his ears and shrugged. "It just might be as how Himself is after poking a finger back into the pie. Any road, he'll be arriving tomorrow morning, so we'd best be battening down."

"You think Tomanâk Himself might want Gharnal up here among all these hradani-hating Sothōii?" Clearly, despite her own champion's status, Kaeritha found the possibility difficult to accept.

"And why not?" Bahzell grinned wryly. "It's not as if we've not had proof enough of Himself's sense of humor, Kerry! After all, look where Vaijon was after ending up!"

"Um." Kaeritha closed her mouth on a fresh objection, then nodded. "You're right," she said after a moment. "If He can send Vaijon of Almerhas to Hurgrum, then there's no reason He couldn't send Gharnal here . . . even if the mere thought of it does send a chill down my spine. On the other hand, I'm afraid that even adding Gharnal to the mess isn't going to make it a lot worse. In fact-"

"Milord Champion!"

Bahzell turned towards the raised voice that wasn't quite a shout, although it seemed like one in the temple's quiet precincts.

Brother Relath, one of Father Taraman's acolytes, hurried up the temple nave towards them, his youthful face screwed up in an expression of deep concern . . . or something worse.