The War God's Own

these fumble wits went about it may mean as how he's not even told them who we are. I'm thinking this lot had no notion they were about to cross swords with the Order of Tomanak until they saw our colors.'

'I'd say you're right about that last bit, at least, Milord,' Harkon said. 'The scum who follow Sharna have never cared to meet us in battle, and certainly not in anything like equal numbers. They only outnumbered us by three to two here, and if they'd known what we were, they would have bought a lot more swords to help them out.'

'They've certainly avoided this sort of thing in the past,' Kaeritha agreed.

'Aye, and Sharna's not exactly noted for keeping faith with anyone,' Bahzell pointed out. 'He'll send his own worshipers to their deaths and laugh unless there's after being something of special value for him in keeping 'em alive, from all I've heard. Like as not the notion of setting them on us without warning them would actually amuse him.'

'But that doesn't mean he doesn't really want to stop us-or you, or the two of you, or even the three of you, counting Wencit,' Brandark said. The Bloody Sword rubbed the tip of his truncated ear for a moment, then grimaced. 'Phrobus! If I were Sharna, I'd want the whole lot of you as far away from my plots as I could keep you.'

'Which only emphasizes the importance of our not letting him get away with delaying us,' Wencit put in, and Bahzell nodded.

'My very own thought. But what to do with this lot in the meantime?'

He twitched his head at the miserable prisoners. The fact that Tomanak's Code protected them from abuse by their captors didn't seem to have made them feel a great deal better, and he didn't blame them. The code wasn't binding on the Royal and Imperial courts, and brigandage was a hanging offense.

'I don't see any option, Milord,' Harkon said almost apologetically. 'We'll have to take them along at least until we meet one of Sir Maehryk's patrols. I don't think they'll slow us, though. We only lost three horses, and our scouts rounded up all of theirs from their camp to replace the losses. Maybe the local magistrate can get more about their employers out of them. Once they're face to face with the courts-and the hangman-they may decide to strike a deal and turn King-Emperor's evidence.'

'I'm afraid Harkon's right about taking them along,' Kaeritha said. 'But we might be able to get just a tad more information out of them. While I would never encourage anyone to violate the Code, this-' she held up the scorpion '-puts a different color on things.' Bahzell looked at her quizzically, and she shrugged. 'They don't necessarily know that working for Sharna doesn't change their status. As servants of Tomanak it would never do for us to actually lie about that, but if they just happened to get the notion that the Code doesn't protect those who give their allegiance to the Dark Gods, well-'

She shrugged again, and Bahzell gave an evil laugh. Vaijon and Harkon looked at her as if they weren't certain they'd heard correctly, and Wencit only shook his head, but Brandark sighed. The others looked at him, and he raised one hand to wag an index finger under Kaeritha's nose.

'Bahzell is clearly a bad influence on you,' he told her severely. 'The very idea of a champion of Tomanak suggesting such a subterfuge! I'm shocked-shocked!-that you could so much as think such a thing!'

'Oh?' Kaeritha's dark blue eyes glinted challengingly. 'Does that mean you disapprove?'

'Of course I don't disapprove-I'm a hradani, Kerry! I just can't help wondering how Tomanak is going to react to this.'

'Oh, I've a notion he'll grow accustomed,' Bahzell said, reclaiming the scorpion and dangling it in front of him while he considered it once more from all angles, then he grinned. 'Now what do you suppose would be the best way to begin?' he mused almost dreamily. 'Should we let Brandark be showing this little bauble to them one by one while he plays with his knife, or should old Wencit be after making sure they've seen his eyes and then give them all a lecture at once?'

Kaeritha's plan worked to perfection. Unfortunately, the surviving hired swords truly didn't know much about the people who'd hired them. No brigand in his right mind would have admitted he'd known he was working for Sharna, yet Bahzell was inclined to believe their protestations of ignorance. Somewhat to his surprise, Kaeritha agreed, for their anger-and fear-when they discovered the truth seemed completely genuine. Any mercy they might have anticipated from the courts would evaporate instantly if they were proven to have knowingly served the Dark, and they appeared desperate to offer any information they could in an effort to buy some sort of clemency.

Only they didn't actually have any true information. The few who weren't regular out-and-out brigands were mercenaries of the sort Tomanak did not approve of, and none had asked many questions when they hired on with their now deceased employer. Nor had they been told they were waiting for a single, specific target. They'd thought they were going to pillage anyone who happened along, and they hadn't even realized the travelers were in Tomanak's colors until the first crossbow bolts were fired. The only thing all of them agreed on was that the man who'd hired them had been accompanied by an inner cadre of ten others, all of whom had appeared to be seasoned fighters… and none of whom had survived.

It wasn't much. In fact, it was worse than nothing in many ways, for it simply confirmed that Sharna was involved without providing a single additional hard fact. But at least they knew now that their enemies knew enough about their plans to attempt to stop them, and that lent a new urgency to their journey. They decided to press on as quickly as possible in hopes of reaching Dwarvenhame before Sharna could organize something more effective than a botched ambush. And while none of the attackers they'd killed or captured had borne the dog brothers' telltale scorpion tattoo, they couldn't be positive the assassins wouldn't be called in. Given that fact, Kaeritha agreed with Bahzell that it would be wise to avoid any town or city. It was easier to watch one's back in the wilderness than among an entire town worth of people one didn't know from Hirahim's house cat and, as Bahzell had demonstrated, sneaking up on a Horse Stealer hradani in the open was a difficult task, at best.

The champions transferred their prisoners to one of Sir Maehryk's detachments at the first good-sized, permanent village they passed, but they barely even slowed down to turn them over. The detachment's senior knight seemed a bit miffed by their haste, but none of their own companions so much as complained, despite their longing to spend at least one night under a snug roof. There were a few wistful sighs when they circled Esfresia itself without even entering the provincial capital, however, especially when the clear, cold weather which had accompanied them from Lordenfel decided to disappear. There were no fresh blizzards, but the sun vanished. The temperature actually rose a bit, but the rising humidity which came with it only made the damp cold bite even deeper, road conditions were miserable, and they were plagued by dense fog and frequent flurries of wet, soggy snow for days on end.

Their pace slowed once they'd passed Esfresia, and not simply because the roads were worse. The ambush had inspired Sir Harkon to put out scouts, and the wretched visibility restricted the distance at which those scouts could stay in visual contact with the rest of the party. A part of Bahzell longed to overrule the knight-commander, but he couldn't. Not only was Harkon right about the need to have someone sweep for enemies, he was also the senior member of the Belhadan chapter still present, and Bahzell was not about to undercut his authority simply because he wanted to move a little faster.

The trip from Esfresia to the Dwarvenhame Tunnel was the shortest leg of their journey so far, little more than thirty-seven leagues, but it seemed much, much longer. The terrain changed once more as the land began to climb towards the eastern mountains, and the high road passed through forest as dense as anything in Vonderland. Trees pressed in on either hand, further aggravating the scouts' problems, and the first few leagues east of Esfresia were particularly hard going as the horses pushed through the deep snow. It took them the better part of three full days to cover barely thirty miles, and Bahzell began to despair of reaching Hurgrum before midsummer.

Fortunately, conditions began to change on the fourth day. The deserted villages with which they had become all too familiar disappeared, and they saw little of the abandoned pasture lands which had stretched across Landria and southern Landfressa. There were more farms, with stout, winter-tight barns and brick silos, but it was clear that most of those living in the towns they passed now had other things on their minds than farming. The high road was clearer than it had been since Lordenfel, and teams of woodsmen were busy in the forest through which it passed. Ox-drawn sledges laden with trimmed tree trunks moved steadily along beside the road, all