The War God's Own

so odd from one of Bahnak's mountainous sons.

'Aye?' Bahnak cocked his head thoughtfully, then shrugged. 'Well, perhaps you've the right of it, son. But the point, Bahzell-' he looked back at his younger son and his eyes narrowed '-is that though you've always had a way of leaping into the deep end of anything that comes your way, more often than not you've your priorities straight before you do. I'll not say you've reasoned them out, exactly, and it may be those of us watching from the bank don't know you have them straight, but in the end you're after coming out on top of the water, not blowing bubbles from the riverbed.'

He reached forward to recover his tankard, then leaned back in his chair once more, eyes still on his son.

'I've never met a demon, or a wizard, or a god,' he said quietly, 'and I'm not wishful to. But you have met 'em, and for all I may twit you, and for all you're still not so old as all that for one of our folk, I've a lively faith in your judgment in most things. It cuts against the grain to be having aught to do with such unchancy things, but if Tomanak is after being a good enough captain for you to be swearing loyalty to, then that's good enough for me. And if you-and your friends-' a nod of his head indicated Vaijon, Brandark, and Kaeritha '-are having business with Sharna in Churnazh's back pasture, well, maybe there are some things important enough to be risking my own plans over.'

'Then you'll not stand in our way?'

'Stand in your way? No, I'll not do that. And I've no doubt at all, at all, that you'll be finding quite a few of the younger lads ready enough to be going with you.'

'Hurthang, for one,' Barodahn said. Bahnak glanced at him, then nodded.

'Aye, he's one,' the prince allowed, and twitched his ears at the far end of the table. 'He's asked for Farmah's hand, for all she's more than a bit young for that yet, and she's accepted,' he explained to Bahzell. 'And since you were after being so hasty as to take Harnak's head before Hurthang could see to taking his privates with a dull blade, I've no doubt he'll be expecting you to be letting him have some of Sharna's other scum for forfeit. And I'd think Gharnal would be another, being as how it'll offer a chance to be killing Bloody Swords. But they'll not be alone, and I'll not be trying to stop them, either.' He grinned suddenly. 'Come to that, I might just egg 'em on a bit. It wouldn't hurt a thing for your friend Kilthan to be knowing as I did, now would it? And truth to tell, whatever I may think of the 'good' gods, I'm not so feeble-witted yet that I'll stomach such as Sharna.'

'I'd thought you'd see it that way, Da,' Bahzell said, 'but it's a weight off my mind to hear you say it, and it's grateful I am.'

'Ah, don't be thanking me!' Bahnak waved his left hand. 'I've nasty, selfish motives of my own. Besides, it's naught but the river all over. Say what I will, you'll be going, for you've always been that way. And these days I've no right to be telling you nay, for you're a man grown, and you've sworn your sword to another's service.'

A flicker of hurt leapt into Bahzell's eyes, but his father shook his head quickly.

'No, lad,' he said gently, reaching out to squeeze his son's shoulder. 'I meant no complaint, and I know your heart will be here with us, always. But you've taken on a man's duties, and if the choice you made might not have been mine, why, I wasn't there, and you were. You'll always be my son, and you'll always have my love, and my sword will always be here to help and guard you at need. But your sword is Tomanak's to command now, not mine, and I know it.'

'Thank you for understanding that, Father,' Bahzell said very quietly. 'Thank you very much.'

'Hmpf!' Bahnak snorted, then leaned back once more and grinned at both his sons as he raised his tankard in lazy salute to his youngest. 'I was young once myself, boy! Or were you thinking a man as wasn't soft-headed with youth, or feeble-witted, or crazy, or maybe a bit of all three, would be daft enough to take on the chore of uniting hradani?'

Chapter Twenty-One

P ipe smoke hung heavy among the overhead beams as Bahzell, Kaeritha, and Vaijon leaned over the map of Navahk. It wasn't as good as the ones Prince Bahnak had ordered made of his own lands and those of his allies, since Prince Churnazh would have taken the presence of Horse Stealer survey crews unkindly. But it was better than the vast majority of maps the Navahkans themselves might possess, and Brandark had smiled with pleasure when he saw it. Now he sat opposite Bahzell and Kaeritha, flanked by Gharnal and Hurthang, most senior of the young warriors who'd chosen to join Bahzell's effort to deal with Sharna's contamination. Another fifty-two Horse Stealers crowded around the table, peering over shoulders while they nursed carved pipes and foamy mugs of ale.

They'd been joined by a single hradani woman: Bahzell's sister, Marglyth, who sat beside Kaeritha. Eleven inches shorter than Bahzell, Marglyth bore a strong resemblance to her mother, with the same slender gracefulness. Only a year younger than Barodahn, she had a husband and twin sons of her own, the younger named for his Uncle Bahzell… none of which prevented her from serving as Prince Bahnak's Chief Justiciar.

Vaijon had seemed surprised that Hurgrum's senior magistrate was a woman, but only because he still failed to understand how deeply the Rage had cut into hradani souls. Even in Hurgrum, no woman could hold a crown in her own right among a warrior people whose ruler, by tradition, must be prepared to meet challengers personally. That didn't mean they couldn't exercise powerful authority in other ways, however, and most hradani judges and diplomats were women for the simple reason that their immunity to the Rage meant it could not affect their judgments.

What was unusual about Hurgrum, however, was that women comprised half the members of the Prince's Council. Most hradani rulers had at least one or two women on their councils, and any clan lord (as distinct from princes) always listened with enormous respect to the advice of his clan's matriarch. But Bahnak's decision to make ten of his twenty-one privy councilors women was yet another unheard of innovation… and yet another which had paid powerful dividends. In fact, Marglyth was not only his Chief Justiciar but his First Councilor, and he relied on her political advice almost as heavily as he did on her mother's-or as he relied on Barodahn's advice in military matters. One of Bahnak's greatest strengths was that he had sufficient confidence in himself to take advantage of the advice of others, and his children had been trained to think for themselves just as he did.

In this case, however, Marglyth was present because, in addition to her councilor's and judicial duties, she also headed Hurgrum's espionage service. As such, she probably knew more about events in Churnazh's court even than Brandark.

The huge map room in which they had met had been designed as a place for Bahnak and his senior officers to confer while planning strategy, which meant it had been built to scale for Horse Stealers and had been intended to house fairly large numbers of them, but it still seemed unreasonably packed. On the other hand, few of the people in it cared very much. This was the first time all of them had been gathered in one spot, and, as a security measure, Bahzell had refused to brief anyone until all were assembled. It wasn't that he was especially distrustful of anyone in his father's court, but Sharna was the patron of assassins and deceit as well as demons, and his minions' ability to ferret out secrets was renowned. But the volunteers were all here now, and every eye was intent as Brandark tapped the map with the tip of a dagger.

'There,' he said, using the dagger to trace a rough triangle in the heavily wooded hills southwest of Navahk. 'This section down here-right on the border with Arthnar. I've never been near the area myself, but this is the general direction the rumors say Harnak liked to 'go hunting' in.'

'Hunting, hey?' Gharnal rumbled. He gazed at the map, then raised his eyes to Bahzell. 'I can't say as how rumors about hunting trips fill me with confidence, Bahzell.'

'Can't you, then?' Bahzell sat back, propping his crossed forearms on the table before him, and looked at Gharnal thoughtfully. Gharnal Uthmagson was his and Marglyth's foster brother, and the three of them had been the closest of friends from childhood. Unlike Hurthang, who was his fourth cousin, Gharnal was about as distantly related to Bahzell (by blood) as a man could be and remain a member of the same clan, but he'd been raised as Bahnak's son after his own father was killed in a border clash with Navahk. At barely six feet ten, he was short for a Horse Stealer, but he compensated with a barrel-like chest and enormous shoulders and arms, and he'd