The War God's Own

'And how would that happen to be?'

'As I'm sure you know even better than I do, Zarantha of Jashan is in the process of establishing the first Spearman mage academy under her father's protection.' Terrian's tone had made the statement half a question, and Bahzell had nodded back. 'Well, there's been some fairly noisy resistance from a handful of Spearman reactionaries. The fact that Mistress Zarantha's a woman is enough to make some of them recalcitrant; the fact that she was educated in Axe Hallow only makes it worse, and some of them are rattling a few swords. I don't think they'd care to face Duke Jashan in open conflict, especially since their Emperor would certainly support the Duke, but they wouldn't be above encouraging a little 'brigandage' which just happened to run over Mistress Zarantha. Even more ominously, they have some very peculiar allies for conservative Spearman nobles.'

Bahzell had pricked his ears questioningly, and Terrian had shrugged. 'There would appear to be a good bit of Purple Lord pressure being brought to bear, including what looks like the beginning of an effort-unofficially, at this time-to embargo Jashan's trade through Bortalik.'

'The Purple Lords, is it now?' Bahzell had murmured, and Terrian had nodded.

'Indeed, Milord, and that was enough to make us look very closely at the situation, especially in light of what you and Wencit have told us of Duke Jashan's and Mistress Zarantha's suspicions about the Purple Lords. No doubt many of the city-states would oppose the notion of Spearman magi simply because anything that contributes to the Empire's independence from the Purple Lords threatens their profits, but I believe Duke Jashan is correct in believing there's more to it than that. And given that the magi and the Order of Semkirk are our best counters to the activities of dark wizards, we have an unhappy suspicion of what that something more is.

'Which,' the knight-general had gone on, 'is why the Order of Semkirk has asked us for aid. They have a solid core of mishuki, but they aren't a true military order, as we are, and asking us to take a hand makes sense. Jashan needs help, and it would be best if that help came from a third party. If the Duke can step back from his role as the primary protector of Mistress Zarantha's new academy and assume a more 'neutral' role, it should help ease the purely political and economic tensions in the area.'

'And you're thinking as how using the Order's troops to protect Zarantha would be after letting him do that.'

'Precisely. We don't envision it as a permanent responsibility. Any established mage academy is quite capable of looking after itself, thank you, and once Mistress Zarantha has her academy properly organized, we should be able to withdraw our people with a clear conscience. But that will take several years, and in the meantime, we'll need a good field commander to handle the situation.'

'And if that should just happen to be taking Yorhus into Tothas' neck of the woods… ?'

'Precisely,' Terrian had said again, and smiled. 'Best of all, if we don't tell Yorhus that Tothas is supposed to be straightening him out for us, he won't have any reason to get his defenses up the way he does whenever one of us tries to talk to him. And from what I've heard of Mistress Zarantha, she'll probably do as much to get through to him as your friend Tothas.'

'Aye, she would that!' Bahzell had chuckled, and nodded. 'All right, then, Sir Terrian. Mind you, I've a few reservations yet about this notion of sending people off on a whim, and I'll want to send Tothas a letter of my own, warning him what we're about to drop on him. Whatever your lot may think, Tothas is no member of the Order, and he's no reason at all but friendship to be doing as I ask. But I'm thinking he'll do his best for me still, and you're right about the number of birds we have to kill. And even if Yorhus can make himself a right pain in the arse, I've no doubt at all that you're right that he's the makings of a good field commander, as well. If Zarantha's after needing help, then it's grateful I'll be if we can be sending her good help.'

And so it had been decided. It hadn't actually been necessary for Bahzell to write Tothas, for the Axe Hallow Mage Academy had established a dedicated relay to Zarantha long since. The magi were able to relay the Order's offer of troops-and Bahzell's request of Tothas-to her, and she sent back her thanks and acceptance of both almost immediately.

Yorhus had seemed a bit surprised by his new orders, but his eyes had positively glowed as he promised he would personally see to the safety of Bahzell's adopted sister. The Horse Stealer could have wished for a bit less enthusiasm and a bit more rationality, but he felt confident the long, cold ride to Jashan would cool his ardor. And if it didn't, Zarantha and Tothas would sort him out in record time.

With that taken care of, Bahzell and Brandark, their remaining escort, and Wencit and Kaeritha had resumed their own journey as soon as the weather allowed. Bahzell would have liked to spend more time in Axe Hallow and actually see something of the city, but an ominous sense that time was becoming shorter and shorter oppressed him. It didn't make a great deal of sense to him, since he still had no idea exactly how he intended to deal with his various problems when he got home, but the conviction that he had to get there as soon as possible wouldn't permit him to tarry.

Brandark was inclined to twit him about it, but no one else was, and even the Bloody Sword had no true objection to setting forward once more. And so it was that Bahzell found himself at Axe Hallow's East Gate, clasping forearms one last time with Sir Terrian while a cold breeze sighed down from a cloudless, painfully blue sky.

'It's thankful I am for all your help, Sir Terrian,' the towering Horse Stealer said gravely. 'And that I've seen the High Temple. I'd like to've been seeing more of it-and you-but there's never enough time, and weather like this is too good to be wasting.'

'That's true enough,' Terrian agreed. 'And I'm grateful your journey brought you through Axe Hallow… even if you won't let us knight you.'

'Another time, maybe,' Bahzell said with a grin, releasing the knight-general's arm, and looked around at the people waiting to travel with him. Clouds of breath rose like smoke in the crystal-clear morning, and despite the cold, he felt suddenly eager to be back on the road once more. It showed, and Terrian laughed.

'You'd best be off then, Milord Champion! But we'll expect you back again someday soon. And until then-' the knight-general sobered '-may Tomanak's Shield go before you and His Sword strike through you.'

'And the same to you,' Bahzell responded gravely. He nodded once more to the commander of the Order of Tomanak , then turned his back on the magnificent walls of Axe Hallow. He threw out an arm to gesture at the high road before them and grinned at his companions.

'Let's be going, then,' he said.

The weather was almost perfect over the next several days, as if Chemalka were feeling generous now that she'd worked off her tantrum. Bahzell wasn't about to trust her to stay that way, yet for the moment, at least, the sky was all smiles. The temperature remained bitterly cold, but there wasn't even a hint of additional snow. Instead, a few white puffball clouds, too brilliant for the eye to rest on long, floated in a sky so blue it hurt, and the reflected snow-dazzle made them grateful for their snow lenses once more.

Once they worked their way free of the Axe Blades, the high road straightened out again and the long, steep slopes eased. They also left the deepest accumulations of snow behind, and the going was almost as good as it had been on the road from Belhadan to the capital. The party quickly settled back into much the same routine as in the earlier stage of its journey, except that Wencit and Kaeritha joined the morning training bouts.

The wizard claimed it was simply a way to stay warm, since a man of his advanced years had no business using a sword with serious intent, but Bahzell doubted his disclaimer fooled anyone. And the Horse Stealer knew it didn't fool anyone who'd ever had the dubious pleasure of crossing blades with the 'old man,' whether it was merely for practice or not. The expression on Brandark's face when Wencit disarmed him three times in five minutes had been priceless, and although Bahzell himself managed to hold his own against the wizard, it was a very near thing. In fact, Wencit managed to 'kill' him almost as often as the Horse Stealer managed to 'kill' the wizard. Bahzell would have liked to think it was because Wencit's sword was enchanted, which-as anyone who'd ever seen him confront dark wizards knew-it most certainly was. Unfortunately, the hradani couldn't quite convince himself that magic explained what Wencit could make that sword do. For all his vast age, the wild wizard remained hard-muscled and supple (no doubt the wild magic had a little something to do with that), and he'd had over twelve centuries to pick up tricks of swordplay Bahzell hadn't even heard of yet.

But much as Bahzell enjoyed sparring with Wencit and adding some of those same tricks to his own