The War God's Own

Rekha were the only human women he'd had the chance to truly come to know, after all. Was that the reason for his strange sense of familiarity, or was there something more to it? Zarantha had always radiated a certain presence, a sense of assurance and self-knowledge, and this woman did the same, yet aside from that and her hair-the same midnight black as Zarantha's-there was no true physical similarity. This woman wore her hair in a warrior's braid which matched Bahzell's own, her eyes were a dark, startling blue, not brown, and she stood just under six feet in height, almost a foot taller than Zarantha. She also moved like a hunting dire cat, yet even though Bahzell had never seen her before, he couldn't shake off the eerie sensation that he knew her. It was if he had met her in some other place and time, even though he knew with absolute certainty that he never had.

The welcoming party reached the bottom of the steps, and the chestnut-bearded man strode forward, still accompanied by the woman, to where Bahzell stood frozen with more than the cold. He smiled and nodded up at Wencit, but his gray eyes never left Bahzell, and he held out his right hand.

'Welcome, Bahzell Bahnakson!' The resonant baritone, lighter than Bahzell's but deeper than most humans', carried with the clarity of a voice accustomed to the field of battle. 'I am Sir Terrian, Knight-General of the Order of Tomanak , and I bid you welcome indeed in the War God's name.'

Bahzell clasped the proffered arm, and Terrian grinned almost impishly.

'We were warned you were on your way, and Kaeritha and I-' he twitched his head sideways at the woman '-were concerned when the weather closed in. We were about to assemble a party to go looking for you when Wencit 'happened by' and offered to find you for us. Under the circumstances, we decided to stay home by the fire and let him amaze us afresh with his accomplishments.'

'Did you now?' Bahzell returned Terrian's grin, pushed back the hood of his poncho with his free hand, and twitched his ears in amusement. He felt an instant, powerful liking for Terrian-even more than he had for Sir Charrow-and he gave the knight-general's arm another squeeze before he released his grip. 'I'm thinking I'd've chosen the same, like enough,' he allowed. 'Besides, Wencit's quite a way with finding folk in the middle of blizzards.'

'So I've heard,' Terrian replied dryly. Then he shook himself and indicated the armored woman beside him. 'But allow me to complete the introductions, Bahzell. This is Dame Kaeritha Seldansdaughter.' The woman held out her ar m in turn, and Bahzell's eyebrows rose at the strength of her clasp. 'Like yourself, Kaeritha is a Champion of Tomanak ,' Terrian continued, and chuckled at the flicker of surprise Bahzell couldn't quite keep from showing. 'I imagine you and she should have quite a few notes to compare,' the knight-general added. 'I believe her elevation to champion status was greeted with almost as much consternation as your own.'

He looked up at the mounted members of the party, and his gaze located Sir Yorhus with unerring accuracy. The Belhadan knight-commander flushed, twitching his shoulders uncomfortably, but made himself meet the eyes of the commander of his Order with commendable steadiness.

Bahzell hardly noticed, for he'd suddenly realized why Kaeritha felt so familiar to him, and it wasn't any imagined resemblance to Zarantha. There was something inside her, like an echo of Tomanak , which called to a matching echo deep within Bahzell. He hadn't realized that tiny bit of the god's presence was there until he saw its twin in Kaeritha, but he recognized it now, and his eyes softened as he gazed into her face.

'Well met, sword brother,' she said, and her soprano voice cut even more cleanly through the storm than Terrian's had. 'He told me He'd found me a new brother I'd like.'

'Did he now?' Bahzell smiled at her, and his grip on her arm tightened as he savored the accuracy of her greeting. He was her brother, and she was his sister, more surely than if they had been born of the same parents. He'd never before experienced anything like that moment of instant awareness, of complete certainty in the capacity and fidelity of another, yet there was no room at all for doubt. 'Well, I wish himself had been after thinking to warn me about you, sword sister,' he rumbled back, 'but I've no doubt he just wasn't wishful to spoil the surprise.'

'This is all very touching,' Wencit interrupted, 'but as Terrian says, I did go find you lot, and my backside is pretty nearly frozen to this saddle. Do you suppose we could move this conversation indoors and conduct it in front of a fire like civilized people?'

'Civilized, is it?' Terrian snorted. 'And since when have you been 'civilized,' Wencit?'

'Since I started freezing in place,' the wizard replied tartly, and Terrian laughed.

'I'm relieved to see something can turn your thoughts in the direction of civility! But if that's what you really want, I suppose we can accommodate you.' He nodded to three of the Temple guardsmen who had followed him and Kaeritha down the steps, and the designated men stepped forward. 'If you and Lord Brandark-and you, Sir Yorhus-will let these gentlemen have your horses, they'll see to stabling all your animals and getting your baggage unloaded while we continue our conversation under those more civilized conditions you wanted.'

'So how may the Order serve you, Milord?' Sir Terrian asked the better part of an hour later, and Bahzell lowered his huge tankard of hot cider with a slight frown. The blizzard's unabated fury was faint through thick walls, and his feet were propped in front of a roaring fire in the large office-cum-sitting room which served as Terrian's study. The room was as well heated as anything in the Belhadan Chapter House, and the Horse Stealer's toes-and nose-had thawed considerably. He was actually beginning to believe he might enjoy having survived the storm, but Terrian's question pulled him back from the raw sensual pleasure of being warm again and required him to think.

'As to that, I'm thinking the Order's done just about all I might have been asking of it already, Sir Terrian,' he rumbled after a moment. 'Leaving aside the little matter of today's weather, which was none of their doing, Sir Charrow and Sir Yorhus between them have made this the least unpleasant winter march in my memory.'

'I'm delighted to hear it,' Terrian said, sipping from his own mug of cider. Then he gave Yorhus another of those sharp, stabbing looks. 'I'm particularly pleased to hear it given some of the reports Sir Charrow has forwarded to me through the mage relays. I understand there was some, ah, difference of opinion over your status, shall we say?'

Bahzell began to reply, but Yorhus spoke before he could.

'There was, My Lord General,' the knight-commander said formally. He bent his head, but that strange note, as if he found some obscure pleasure in admitting his fault, was back in his voice. 'To my shame, much of the making of that difference was mine. But Lord Bahzell and Tomanak have shown me my error, and I trust to so amend my behavior that neither they nor you shall have reason to find fault with me ever again.'

Terrian's eyes narrowed, and he pursed his lips, then threw Bahzell a sharp glance and raised his eyebrows. Bahzell flicked his ears to acknowledge the silent question. He was pleased Terrian had recognized the compulsiveness of Yorhus' admission, and he fully intended to discuss sending the knight-commander to Jashan in the hope that Tothas could straighten him out. But he had no desire to begin that discussion before so many others. Common courtesy dictated that he speak with the knight-general about it in private, and so he turned his attention to Kaeritha with a grin.

'Aye, Sir Terrian. 'Differences of opinion' is one way to be putting it. And from what you were saying earlier, I've the impression Dame Kaeritha could tell us about a few 'differences of opinion' of her own.'

'Indeed I could… if I were inclined to bring up old misunderstandings. Which, of course, no true knight would ever do,' Kaeritha replied in a devilishly demure tone.

Bahzell chuckled, and she smiled back at him. In the better light of the office, Bahzell could see the pale line of a scar, thin but obviously the legacy of a deep wound, which ran down her oval face from the top of her right cheek to the side of her throat. Another ran from her forehead back and up across her hairline, and a streak of startling white traced its course further back into her hair. Despite its scars, hers was a face well suited to the smile it wore, but then her expression grew more sober.

'Unlike some of the other chivalric orders, ours has always been open to women,' she said seriously. 'That's caused some problems in places like the Empire of the Spear, where the very notion of a woman choosing to train at arms is anathema, but Tomanak was rather firm about it when he ordained the Order's existence.'

She paused, and Bahzell nodded, once again reminded of Zarantha. It was fortunate Duke Jashan had chosen to give his heir, daughter or no, the sort of training which would have horrified his peers. Without it, she would