David Weber - Wind Rider's Oath

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In The War God’s Own, Bahzell had managed to stop a war by convincing Baron Tellian, leader of the Sothōii, to “surrender” to him, the War God’s champion. Now, he has journeyed to the Sothōii Wind Plain to oversee the parole he granted to Tellian and his men, to represent the Order of Tomanâk, the War God, and to be an ambassador for the hradani. What’s more, the flying coursers of the Sothōii have accepted Bahzell as a windrider-the first hradani windrider in history. And since the windriders are the elite of the elite among the Sothōii, Bahzell’s ascension is as likely to stir resentment as respect. That combination of duties would have been enough to keep anyone busy-even a warrior prince like Bahzell-but additional complications are bubbling under the surface. The goddess Shīgū, the Queen of Hell, is sowing dissension among the war maids of the Sothōii. The supporters of the deposed Sothōii noble who started the war are plotting to murder their new leige lord and frame Bahzell for the deed. Of course, those problems are all in a day’s work for a champion of the War God. But what is Bahzell going to do about the fact that Baron Tellian’s daughter, the heir to the realm, seems to be thinking that he is the only man-or hradani-for her?

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�All jesting aside,� Walasfro said more seriously, �he and Walsharno will need weeks to truly settle into their bond. And he'll probably need at least that long-or longer!-before I'd feel comfortable about his chances of staying in the saddle in a serious fight.�

"You're probably right," Kelthys agreed. Indeed, there was usually no better judge of a human's-or, he supposed, a hradani's-horsemanship than a courser. "Still," the human added hopefully, "he's getting better faster than almost anyone else I've ever watched."

�You may be right about that,� Walasfro conceded thoughtfully. �I wish we understood more about whatever sort of "herd sense'"he's apparently acquired. I wonder . . . .�

"You wonder what?" Kelthys prompted after several seconds.

�I wonder if whatever it is is allowing him to link with Walsharno on a deeper level than the rest of us can match outside battle? Watch him, Brother. He is getting better faster than he ought to be. Do you think he could be using his version of the herd sense to anticipate Walsharno's movements?�

"Now that is a very interesting thought," Kelthys murmured softly. "And while we're having interesting thoughts, here's another one for you. Have you ever heard of a champion of Tomanâk bonding with a courser before?"

No ,� Walasfro replied after a moment-a very long, thoughtful moment. � Have you , Brother?

"No, I haven't," Kelthys said. "Because it's never happened before. And I find myself wondering how Bahzell's relationship with Tomanâk is going to affect Walsharno."

�I couldn't begin to guess,� Walasfro admitted frankly. Then he laughed. �Still, it might be less of a change than you may be anticipating, Brother. After all, his name is certainly appropriate for a champion's companion!�

"Yes, it is," Kelthys agreed, laughing with him. "I wonder if his herd stallion knew something when he gave it to him?"

�Stranger things have happened. And whether he knew something or not, the name certainly fits.�

"Yes, it does. For that matter, it fits Bahzell , too."

Walasfro tossed his head in a gesture of agreement coursers had long ago picked up from humans. In the Sothōii tongue, "Walsharno" meant "Sun of War," although it might also be translated as "Battle Dawn."

"At any rate," Kelthys continued, "I suppose that even without Bahzell's status as one of Tomanâk's champions, the mere fact that a hradani's been chosen as a wind rider at all should suggest that we'd all better be as open-minded as possible about their bond."

�Easier for some than for others,� Walasfro thought dryly. �But however quickly he may be learning, do we truly have time for the two of them to complete the bonding? Whatever attacked Gayrfressa's herd is still out there. What if it attacks another herd? Or Warm Springs itself?�

"I don't know," Kelthys admitted frankly. "I do know that Bahzell is worrying over the same questions. But I don't think he'll be ready to move for at least another two or three days, anyway."

�Why not?�

"Because I asked him not to," Kelthys said calmly. Walasfro swung his head around to look at him, and Kelthys shrugged. "Yes, we have to move. And, yes, the fundamental responsibility has to be Bahzell's-well, his and the Order's. But whatever's happening out there, it's on the Wind Plain , Walasfro. It's on our land, and it's attacked and killed our coursers, and at the moment, you and I-well, you and I and Bahzell and Walsharno-are the only wind riders here. That's why I sent out the dispatches before we left Deep Water. By now, there must be over a dozen other wind riders on their way to Warm Springs. I expect to see the first of them no later than tomorrow. Don't you think that our own honor and responsibility require that the wind borne and our brothers ride with Tomanâk's warriors at a time like this?"

Walasfro had started to interrupt, but then he'd stopped to listen to what Kelthys had to say. And at the end, he snorted once again, and tossed his head in agreement.

�There are probably enormous holes in your logic, Brother,� he said, �but there are no holes in your heart. I think we can give our fledglings another day or two of practice.�

* * *

"Begging your pardon, Milord, but are you certain about this?"

Saratic Redhelm, Lord Warden of Golden Vale, glared at his marshal. Sir Chalthar Ranseur met his glare with a level look of his own. Chalthar had served Saratic for over ten years, and he'd begun as a common armsman under Saratic's father, almost twenty years before that.

Saratic reminded himself of that as he fought his own temper back under control. There was no doubt in his mind that Chalthar was completely loyal-as only a Sothōii armsman could be-to Saratic personally and to Golden Vale. But the man's long service gave him the right to offer advice when he thought his liege lord was about to commit a serious error. And he obviously thought that was what was about to happen.

And I'd probably be less angry with him if a part of me wasn't worried that he's right, Saratic thought grimly. But he wasn't about to admit that to Chalthar.

"Yes, I am certain about it," he said instead, and held Chalthar's eyes with his own. There was no expression on the dark-haired, grizzled knight's weathered face, but he bobbed his head in an abbreviated bow.

"Very well, Milord," he said. "In that case, I'd recommend that we send the Third and Fifth."

Saratic pursed his lips while he considered the advice carefully. It was as shrewd as he would have expected from Chalthar, although the Third and Fifth Companies were very different from one another.

Sir Fahlthu Greavesbiter's Third Company was actually the largest in Saratic's service. At two hundred men, it was almost twice the size of Sir Halnahk Partisan's Fifth Company. But Fahlthu was also the most mercenary of Saratic's officers. He was very good at his trade, if a bit inclined towards brutality as the solution to most problems, but his loyalty went to the man who paid him, and he'd recruited his oversized company up to strength with men very like himself.

Sir Halnahk was almost the diametric opposite. His loyalty was given to his liege lord because he'd sworn fealty to him. After Chalthar himself, his was probably the most reliable allegiance of any of Saratic's field commanders.

"An excellent suggestion, Chalthar," Saratic mused aloud. "Of course, Fahlthu and Halnahk hate each other's guts."

"To be honest, Milord, that consideration is one reason I feel they'd be the best choices."

"Ah?" Saratic leaned back in his chair, squinting his eyes against the bright sunlight streaming into his study through the windows behind Chalthar.

"Of course, Milord." Chalthar waved a blunt-fingered hand. "To be honest, it we're going to risk someone, I'd sooner lose Fahlthu than anyone else. But he's only as reliable as his next payday, and I wouldn't trust him not to betray you in a heartbeat if a better offer came along-or if he thought it would keep his own skin safe." The marshal paused, then grimaced. "Actually, Milord, that's not quite fair, I suppose. Fahlthu's brave enough once it actually comes down to blows. It's in his planning before the fighting starts that his thinking depends on what he expects to get out of it."

Saratic nodded. That attitude of Fahlthu's was one reason he'd recruited the man in the first place. There were times when a lord warden needed the proper tool for fishing in murky waters.

"Halnahk, on the other hand, isn't much going to like his orders," Chalthar continued with blunt honesty, "but he's your man and always has been. He'll carry 'em out, whatever they are, and he's senior to Fahlthu. So, Milord, I think we should put him in command of this affair. His seniority would make it logical, but even more importantly, we can tell him your full intentions and rely upon him to act in accordance with them. In the meantime, let me tell Fahlthu a part of what you intend-the part he'll have to know-but not enough details to make betraying us strike him as being worth the risk. We can trust Halnahk to make the best use of him . . . and if it should chance that my concerns prove to have been justified, he'll make Halnahk a rear guard none of us will miss. Not to mention," the marshal smiled thinly, "the fact that everyone knows Fahlthu's little better than a common mercenary. If something unfortunate should befall him, I think it would not be unreasonable for Baron Cassan to conclude that Sir Fahlthu had been bribed by Lord Warden Erathian-who's Tellian 's vassal, not the Baron's-to vastly exceed any orders you might have given him."

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