Raymond E. Feist - The Complete Legends of the Riftwar Trilogy - Honoured Enemy, Murder in Lamut, Jimmy the Hand

Tinuva chuckled softly.

‘Hard to mistake Hartraft for one of yours.’

‘It was a mistake, I tell you.’

‘A mistake to save him or a mistake in knowing who you were saving?’

Asayaga took a bite of half-cooked venison. ‘He hates me.’

‘Do you hate him?’

‘It is my duty to kill him. And yes, he has been a thorn in our side for years. Killing him would bring honour to my clan.’

‘Would you have let him drown?’

Asayaga hesitated.

‘Would you?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘When I kill him, I want it to be a fight of honour. Letting him drown would not bring honour to either of us. And it would be a waste. He’s right. We need every sword if we are to survive.’

‘Know this, Asayaga: Dennis is a brilliant warrior, among the finest of your race I think I have ever known. He, too, has honour, though perhaps not as your people define it. I think he would have done the same for you. In fact it will rankle with him now because he owes you a blood debt.’ Tinuva chuckled softly. ‘You’ve presented him with a paradox. In order to kill you he first must settle the blood debt of life.’

‘There is nothing funny about it.’

Gregory approached them. ‘Funny about what?’ he asked.

‘Dennis owes Asayaga his life, but wants to kill him.’

Gregory nodded, then observed, ‘Elven-kind see the world slightly differently than we do.’

‘Yes, there is much in this that is grim,’ observed the elf. ‘Yet, nevertheless I see humour in it. Your human gods love to present you with such riddles and challenges, or so it has seemed to me for most of my life. Long have I known humans like Gregory and I have even visited a human city, yet there are times when I wonder at the complexities of your thinking. You often seem to prefer difficult choices when simple alternatives are available; it is a constant source of amazement to my kind.’ He glanced over to where Dennis stood. ‘It will be interesting to see how the two of you solve this dilemma.’

Asayaga grunted, obviously not seeing anything of humour in the situation.

Dennis came up to join them, munching on a piece of meat. He tossed a stick with another piece of meat on it to Tinuva. He offered none to Asayaga.

‘We rest here for an hour to dry out, warm up and eat. Tinuva, I’ll detail off some men, half a dozen, to stay behind here with you. I expect the Tsurani to leave a half dozen as well. That should dissuade them from trying to make a rush.’

‘I will not take orders from you, Hartraft.’

‘Fine then. Call it another of my bloody suggestions, Tsurani.’

‘And then what?’

Dennis smiled and pointed to the next range of mountains to the north. ‘We head up there, lose the bastards, then settle our differences.’

Without waiting for a reply he walked away.

‘A hateful man,’ Asayaga snapped and Tinuva could sense that the Tsurani had expected some sort of ritual to be played out, a formal exchange of acknowledgment of blood debt. He could tell, however, that Hartraft was uncomfortable with the entire incident and just wanted it dropped.

‘War does that,’ Tinuva replied finally.

‘Does what?’

‘It makes all of us hateful.’ As he said the words he gazed intently at the far side of the river.

After a moment, Asayaga left to see to his men.

When they were alone, Gregory said, ‘What is it?’

Tinuva knew what the question meant. Gregory understood his people well enough to know that sooner or later Tinuva would tell him what it was that had bothered him since the ambush. Quietly, Tinuva said, ‘Of those the Tsurani and I ambushed, one was Kavala.’

Gregory swore. ‘That means …’

Softly, Tinuva said, ‘Bovai is near.’

Gregory said, ‘Another of the gods’ riddles and challenges?’ He shook his head. For a human, he could mask his expression almost as well as an elf, yet to Tinuva, his distress was obvious.

‘Hardly,’ said Tinuva. ‘A cruel fate, perhaps.’

‘What will you do?’

Tinuva said, ‘I will serve, and do what I can to help Dennis, you, and the Tsurani, survive. But if the chance comes to end this … blood debt, then I will take it.’

Gregory nodded. He knew what few humans knew of the truth behind the relationship between the eledhel and the moredhel, and specifically between Tinuva and Bovai, and he would not speak of it to anyone without Tinuva’s permission.

Finally, he said, ‘Best not to let Dennis know about this until it is impossible to hide it. If he knew Bovai was there, he might just linger long enough to force a confrontation.’

Tinuva’s mouth turned slightly upward, an open expression of humour. ‘Dennis owes Bovai a blood debt, but he has more sense than that.’

Chuckling, Gregory said, ‘I hope you’re right.’ He turned towards the fire and said again, ‘I’m going to miss that bow.’

Looking at the fatigued men around the fire, Tinuva remarked, ‘There will be extra weapons, soon enough.’

Gregory needed no explanation – he knew many of these men would be dead within days – and nodded once, then walked away, leaving the elf to his own thoughts.

Staring across the river, where the human mercenaries stood watching, judging what to do next, Tinuva wondered how long he would wait before seeking out Bovai.

Lost in his reverie he almost didn’t notice the first command for the men to get ready to move out; then, sensing movement behind him as the activity in the camp quickened, he took one last look across the river, then turned and moved back towards the others.

T WILIGHT WAS DEEPENING.

Dennis Hartraft turned away from the knot of soldiers, throwing up his hands in exasperation. ‘You are all crazy,’ he snapped angrily, looking back over his shoulder. ‘Stopping now is madness.’ He pointed to the pass in the next range of mountains, still ten miles away. ‘Once over the Teeth of the World, we’re in the clear. Then we rest.’

‘And not one man in ten will make it that far,’ Brother Corwin interjected. ‘I suspect it’s because neither you nor the Tsurani will admit in front of the other that you have to stop. This chase has been going on for three days. There’s barely a man left who can fight, let alone march another mile.’

‘Brother, I didn’t know you were part of this council of war,’ Dennis retorted. ‘It’s for any man who fights and wishes a fair say.’

‘But I’ll be heard nevertheless,’ the monk snapped back without hesitation. ‘Give these men a rest.’

Dennis, hands on his hips, stepped back into the circle of men. He caught the eye of Asayaga who was softly whispering, translating the conversation to the men of his command.

‘The Tsurani here don’t have councils of war,’ Dennis replied. ‘Their commander says go, and they go. I’m willing to bet they are ready to go over that mountain tonight and be clear of pursuit once and for all. You men called for a council and I must accept that, but I am telling you that to stop for rest now is madness.’

Asayaga, even as he translated, looked straight at Dennis without comment.

‘Will you have it said that those –’ the word ‘bastard’ almost slipped out but he held it ‘– these enemies of the Kingdom can do something we cannot do?’

Dennis’s voice started off at a low pitch. ‘I know it is our custom to ask for a council of war –’ his voice started to rise ‘– the lowest in my command can ask for one if there is a serious question of my orders, but that is not the case in a time of crisis, or in the middle of a fight!’ He ended on a shout.

‘I see neither a fight, nor a crisis,’ Corwin replied calmly. ‘We’ve outrun pursuit. It’s getting on to dusk. We have a clear view back across twenty miles and see nothing behind us.’ He pointed back across the plains and low rolling hills which the men had wearily traversed. From their elevated position in the foothills, someone with a sharp enough eye could see clear back to the river they had forded that morning. Nothing moved upon it except for a few stags, the does that followed them, and a distant band of wolves.