The War God's Own

people this, I owe you more than life, and I beg that you will be taking me as your charkanahd, in the ancient way of our folk.'

Someone drew a hissing breath. The oath of charkanahd was the most solemn any hradani could swear. Some foreign scholars, who thought the ancient word was purely hradani, translated it simply as 'armsman,' but they were wrong. Other scholars, more familiar with the dead languages of fallen Kontovar, could have told them that it meant literally 'death sworn,' but only the hradani still remembered what it had once implied. What it still implied and meant to them.

Hurthang had just offered Bahzell all he was-all he could ever be. Not simply his service, and not even simply his sword in battle. Those things came with the oath of charkanahd, but they were the easy part, the reason 'scholars' who knew no better used 'armsman' as its equivalent. True charkanahd cut far deeper, for it superseded all other oaths, all other loyalties. It renounced any other claim upon the loyalty of the man who swore it, and he gave his liege lord his very life. More than that, he gave his lord the moment of his own death-the right and power to choose the place and time at which he would lay down the life which no longer belonged to him, without question or hesitation.

But Bahzell only rested a hand gently on his cousin's bowed head and shook his own.

'No, Hurthang,' he said softly. 'You're not owing me a single thing, for whatever I did, I did because I chose to, and because I couldn't just be turning away and pretending I didn't know what was needful to do, and I've no need for charkanahd. But I do need sword brothers, and if I can't be taking your oath, I know someone as can.'

Hurthang looked up, and his eyes went huge, for a corona of blue brilliance crackled about Bahzell. It clung to him, outlining him in azure lightning, and his voice was no longer his alone. There was another timbre to it, deeper even than his own, and powerful, like the beat of heavy cavalry charging through a battle dawn. All around the map room, men sank to their knees before the majesty flowing out of him, and even as they knelt, they knew it was not truly Bahzell Bahnakson they beheld. Or, rather, that it was not solely him. And as that realization ran through them, they also realized that all he had told them-about Sharna, about his own ability to sense the Dark God's lair and seek it out, and above all about the Rage-was true. Bone-deep, unquestionably true. As Hurthang, they recognized in that instant the enormity of the gift Bahzell-and Tomanak - had given them. Of the vast change which had come into their lives, and the fact that nothing would ever be the same again.

'I'm thinking I see another reason himself was sending me here now,' Bahzell said, still in that voice which was his and yet was not. 'I'll not take your oaths for myself, Sword Brothers, but it's in my mind that any chapter of Tomanak's Order has to be starting somewhere.' He smiled, and a ripple of laughter like joyous trumpets seemed to shiver and dance behind his words. 'No doubt there's many a fine lord will be a mite upset when he learns as how himself's been and created an entire chapter of blood-thirsty barbarian hradani, Brothers, but they'd best be getting over it as quick as ever they can, for I've the strangest notion there's worse to come for 'em than that!'

Laughter answered him from the kneeling warriors, breathless and yet somehow reverent, and he looked out over them.

'Will you swear Sword Oath to Tomanak , as his warriors and members of his Order, Brothers?' he asked, and steel whispered and sang throughout the map room as every Horse Stealer warrior in it drew sword or axe and held it up before him.

Chapter Twenty-Two

'Somehow, I don't think your father quite had it in mind for you to swear in an entire chapter of the Order,' Brandark said with a lurking smile. He spoke quietly, in small puffs of breath steam, as he and Bahzell lay under the low branches of a fir thicket. Fifty-four other hradani-and two humans-lay hidden about them, but any observer might have been excused for not realizing it. Even Brandark had been unsettled by the discovery of how easily half a hundred huge Horse Stealers had simply disappeared into the snow-struck woods. Granted, the foggy morning's gloomy overcast helped, yet it still seemed impossible. But, then, he'd never been part of a Horse Stealer raiding party on the Wind Plain, either.

'I'd not be so very sure of that, little man,' Bahzell murmured back absently, eyes scanning the silent trees. 'He's a canny one, my da, and it's in my mind he'd've seen it coming before ever he gave me leave to ask for volunteers. Besides, this way he's after getting credit as the first 'patron' of the Order amongst hradani if things go well, without risking the blame if it should happen they work out badly. Come to that, he's seen it set up so the Order won't be being 'his,' and that's no small thing if I'm to get the rest of our folk to believe himself is neutral and the Order's more than just a tool of Hurgrum.'

'Really?' Brandark reached under the hood of the white smock which he, like every other member of the raiding party wore, to rub his truncated ear, then grimaced. 'You're probably right,' he acknowledged. 'He's a deep one, your father, and somehow I've got the feeling he never does anything for a single reason.'

'Which is the very reason he'll soon be after sitting on Churnazh's throne,' Bahzell agreed equably. 'But-'

He chopped off abruptly, and Brandark reached for his sword as he squirmed around to look in the same direction. But it was only Urach, Hurthang's chosen scout, skiing quickly and quietly back towards them out of the fog. He looked around searchingly, and Bahzell raised one hand in a small wave. Tiny as it was, the gesture caught Urach's attention, and he moved quickly towards Bahzell and Brandark.

'Well?' Bahzell asked quietly, and Urach grimaced.

'It's as Lord Brandark said, Bahz- Milord. There's a road of some sort up ahead. It's not after being much of one-more of a trail, really-but there's tracks enough to mark its course plain. Not many. I'm thinking it's naught but a pair of horses-not more than three, at the most-and they were only after going the one way. They've not come back yet. And as for the trail itself, it winds off to the north a bit, and it's twisty as a Bloody Sword's mind. Ah, no offense, Lord Brandark!'

'None taken,' Brandark said dryly. Urach eyed him doubtfully, then ducked his head with a grin.

'Any road, Milord, it's after creeping about like a snake with the ague, and it clings to low ground like a leech. I've not scouted much along it, but if you were to be asking me, I'd have to say as how whoever planned it wasn't wishful for anyone to be seeing him use it.'

'Um.' Bahzell rubbed his chin, then nodded. 'Well enough, Urach-and well done, too. It's grateful I'd be if you'd tell the same to Hurthang-he's over yonder, by that dead oak-and fetch him back to me here when you've done.'

'Aye, Milord!' Urach hastened off, and Brandark cocked a sardonic eyebrow.

' 'Bahz- Milord', is it? My! What formality for a batch of unwashed Horse Stealers! Does Tomanak know about this sudden elevation of yours?'

'I'm wondering how you'd look with your mouth stuffed full of snow?' Bahzell murmured thoughtfully. 'Like as not you'd be quieter, anyway.'

'My, my, my. We are feeling touchy, aren't we?' Brandark needled, but Bahzell only grinned.

'It's in my mind they'll get over it soon enough, little man. But just this minute, they're still not that all-fired sure just what it is they've let themselves in for. So if it makes a lad like Urach feel a bit more proper to be calling me 'Milord' for a bit, I'm thinking I can stand the embarrassment.'

'No doubt. But you do realize you've made me even more of the odd man out, don't you?' Brandark demanded. Bahzell eyed him quizzically, and he sighed. 'I was already a Bloody Sword-which, if you'll recall, isn't exactly the safest thing to be around a murderous lot of Horse Stealers-but at least I had company, since Vaijon and Kerry weren't what you might call Horse Stealers themselves. But then you had to go and swear the lot of them into the Order of Tomanak , which Vaijon and Kerry are members of. Which just happens to leave me as the sole participant in this little expedition who isn't one of Scale Balancer's hearty minions.'

'D'you know, I believe you've a point there. But don't let it be bothering you. Just you be keeping close, and