“Aye,” Bahzell growled, and squinted up into the cloudless blue sky with a look that boded ill for whatever god might be stalking him.
Chapter Fourteen
“So you’re sure about this, are you?”
Kilthan’s sharp topaz eyes considered the two hradani as they stood at dockside. The city of Riverside was grimy and unkempt, and it had a name as a rough place. The Kingdom of Morvan was one of the Border Kingdoms-the small states nestled along the Empire of the Axe’s frontier-but it was more lawless than most. And less concerned with keeping the Axemen happy, for the Forest of Sharmi covered its southern flank.
“Aye, you are,” the dwarf sighed, and shook his head. “I’ll be honest, you lads have worked out better than I’d expected, and Riverside is no place for a pair of hradani all on their own. I’ll keep you both on-as sergeants over the winter, and with your own platoons come spring.”
“We appreciate the offer.” Brandark still acted as their spokesman more often than not, but Bahzell nodded in agreement. “Truly we do. But under the circumstances-” He shrugged, and Kilthan frowned up at Bahzell.
“You’re remembering that idiot in Derm, aren’t you?” His cocked head demanded answer, and the Horse Stealer nodded again. “Well, I don’t know as I blame you, but I doubt Norfressa’s big enough to outrun the gods- assuming a lunatic in a fancy bed gown would know a message from them if it bit him on the arse!”
“That’s as may be, but I’m minded to try. And, truth to tell, I’d sooner whatever it is not splash on you and yours if I
“Hmmmmm. You know, there might just be something in that,” Kilthan agreed with a slow smile, then shook himself. “All right. You’ve more than pulled your weight, so here’s your pay-and I’ve decided to absorb your bonds with the Guild.” He tossed over a purse that clinked satisfyingly when Brandark caught it, and grinned at their expressions. “Don’t let it get around. Hirahim knows I don’t need a reputation as a curst soft touch!”
“Somehow I doubt that’s going to happen,” Brandark assured him.
“No more it should,” Kilthan agreed, drawing an unsealed parchment letter from his tunic and handing it to Brandark as well. “You’d best take this, too. Gods know you louts will have trouble enough without me to vouch for you, but this may help.” Brandark cocked his ears-his eyebrows were growing back, but remained too wispy for suitable expressiveness-and Kilthan snorted. “It’s a letter of introduction. Won’t do a damned bit of good if the guard decides to clap you up, and don’t expect it to help much with local tradesmen, but it should carry weight with anyone from the Guild who’s looking for reliable men. I perjured my immortal soul in it, but if they believe half the lies I’ve told, it should get you a job with someone reputable who’s headed east-assuming there
“We’re thanking you, Kilthan,” Bahzell said softly. He reached down to clasp forearms with the dwarf. “It’s a good friend you’ve been to us, and I’ll not forget. I’ve written my father, as well. If any of your factors are ever after finding their way to Hurgrum, you’ll find the markets open to you.”
“Think I didn’t know that, you overgrown lump of rock?” Kilthan rose on his toes to punch the Horse Stealer in the chest. “Why else d’you think I’m sending you off with that letter? Keep your eye on the main chance and invest carefully, boy, and don’t you ever forget it!”
“Aye, that would be it, of course,” Bahzell agreed with a smile, and Kilthan waved both hands at them.
“All right, all right! I’ve things to do, and I can’t be standing around all day, so be gone with you now!”
He marched briskly away, and the two hradani smiled at each other behind him. They gathered their gear and started away from dockside, only to pause as Rianthus and Hartan appeared in front of them. The human led two horses, one an excellent medium warhorse and the other a sturdy pack animal, and Hartan shook his head as he glared up at the hradani.
“Tomanak! All this time with us, and they
“Aye, well, no one ever said they were smart,” Rianthus agreed, grinning at Brandark.
“And to what-other than a desire to perfect your rudeness-do we owe this visit?” Brandark inquired politely.
“Well, it occurred to some of the lads that you two had to sell your horses back in Derm,” Rianthus said casually, “so the lot of us went in to buy you a pair of replacements. Not as good as you could, ah, liberate from a bunch of Navahkan Bloody Swords, maybe, but passable, I think.”
“Passable, is it?” Bahzell ran an appreciative eye over the horses. “Aye, you might be calling them that!”
“Here-take ’em!” Rianthus stuck out the reins, then caught Bahzell’s forearm as he took them. “And watch yourselves, you two! Gods know you’re not the brightest pair I’ve ever seen, but we’re fond of you.”
“Speak for yourself, high-pockets,” Hartan grunted, but he, too, clasped arms with them both. Then the two captains nodded brusquely and turned back to their business, and Bahzell and Brandark walked slowly into the streets of Riverside.
They soon found Kilthan’s warnings well founded. They were no longer a wealthy merchant’s guards, and Riverside had its share and more of prejudice. Like most of the Border Kingdoms, Morvan was a land of mixed races, but no hradani were numbered among them, and if their people’s fearsome reputation meant no one cared to push a quarrel to the point of drawn steel, neither were they welcome. There was a mysterious lack of room in the better inns, and they ended up lodging above a miserable tavern on the wrong side of the city.
Their quarters were wretched enough, but the bad side of Riverside was worse than most, and the tavern’s location brought them face-to-face with half the city’s would-be bravos with predictable results. Word soon got around that it was wiser to leave them in peace, however, and Bahzell hardly had to break more than an arm or two to bring it about. It took a bit more effort on Brandark’s part-his balalaika and dandified air made him less elementally threatening-but after the night four burly longshoremen took flight through a second-story window, their fellows decided to leave him alone, too.
None of that was calculated to endear them to the City Guard, and the unpleasant aura of official displeasure added itself to their other problems. All in all, Riverside was not a place either of them cared for, yet finding a way to leave was far from simple.
Their pay from Kilthan, coupled with what remained of Bahzell’s original purse, was enough to carry them for a time, especially at the prices their cheerless lodgings could command, but it would never last clear through the winter. Nor would it take them very far along the road. In the long run, if they wanted to eat they needed work, and there was little of that in Riverside for hradani, even with Kilthan’s letter. Not, at least, on the right side of the law, and the local underworld quickly gave up on recruiting either of them.
Had an opportunity offered, they would gladly have used that same letter to hire on with another caravan, but autumn had caught up with them once more. Norfressa looked forward to winter, and no one willingly took to the road in winter, which lent added point to the necessity of finding some means of earning their way through the icy months to come. But as days turned into a week, then into two weeks, and then into three, and the nights grew steadily colder, it began to seem they had no choice. If there was nothing for them here, they must move on soon and trust to fortune. Besides, Bahzell’s dreams were back. His memories of them were as fragmented and confusing as ever, but even more disturbing, and the Horse Stealer’s feet itched to be leaving.
The moonless night was windy and cold. Thin clouds, just thick enough to hide the stars without cutting the chill, pressed down on Riverside like a hand, filling the frosty shadows with a darker, more solid blackness. There were no streetlights on this side of town; only the occasional privately maintained flambeaux outside some gambling den or brothel broke the dark, and Bahzell muttered balefully to himself as he moved down the mean
