'Those
Sir Festian glanced sideways at Sir Kelthys. The facts in Haladhan's version of the parley had been accurate enough, but the marshal had allowed contempt and hatred to color his report. In his turn, Festian had tried to soften the more vitriolic of Haladhan's remarks. He'd had to proceed carefully, though, and while he was confident he'd recounted the entire conversation accurately, he hadn't been at all sure Mathian had bothered to listen to him.
Now he was sure the Lord Warden hadn't. He knew the signs, and his stomach tightened as he watched Mathian working himself up into a towering fury.
'I'll kill them all!' he shouted. 'I'll kill every murderous one of the bastards, and then I'll burn their stinking towns to the ground! I'll-'
'A moment, Milord.' Kelthys' voice was so calm that Mathian's mouth snapped shut in astonishment. He wheeled to face the wind rider, interrupted in mid-tirade, and Kelthys shrugged. 'I understand your anger, Milord, just as I understand why you wish to insure the hradani are never able to threaten the Kingdom. But even so, I think it behooves us to at least consider the possibility that this Bahzell is telling the truth.'
'The
'I think all things are possible-theoretically, at least, Milord,' Kelthys said serenely. 'The priests and philosophers would have us believe so, at any rate. Some are more probable than others, no doubt, and I must confess that, as you, I find the thought of a hradani champion less likely than most. But I also doubt that many men would make such a claim falsely. If Tomanak failed to punish them directly for it, no doubt His Order would do so as soon as it heard.'
'The whorseon is lying to stop us from hitting his gods-damned kind while their warriors are away,' Mathian said flatly. 'Phrobus, Kelthys! He's got no more than two hundred warriors down there. He knows he can't stop us from killing all of them any time we choose to, so
'With all due respect, Milord, I don't think it is,' Kelthys said, and now his voice was flat… and loud enough for the other officers clustered around to hear. 'I believe we should at least consider the possibility that he's telling us the truth. At the very least, we should not risk arousing the justified anger of the Order of Tomanak -to which, I remind you, the King's own brother Yurokhas has sworn Sword Oath-without first consulting with Baron Tellian, in whose name we are acting.'
Mathian stared at the wind rider, his face bone white, and Festian held his breath. The Lord Warden of Glanharrow ground his teeth, and then he spat on the ground.
'I thought you a
'At least I am not a boy driven by his own unheeding passion,' Kelthys replied, and his own tone was like a slap in the face. Mathian's hand darted to his sabre, and steel scraped, but Festian's hand snapped out and caught his wrist before he could draw it.
'Calmly, Milord!
Rage quivered in every sinew of Mathian's body, and muscles ridged like iron lumps along his jawline as he glared at the wind rider.
'Very well, Kelthys,' he ground out finally. 'You've given your
'I think not, Milord,' Kelthys said softly, and watched Mathian's eyes flare. 'You are our Lord Warden. In time of emergency and in defense of the realm, you may command us to do your will, and any disobedience on our part is high treason. But, Milord, there
'Treason?' Mathian whispered. 'You
'Not yet, Milord,' Kelthys replied gravely. 'However, if you-or any of these other lords who follow you-continue on this course, then, yes. Treason is an ugly word, but the only one which will apply.'
'
'Milord, I-' Haladhan began, and then stopped as a sabre whispered from its sheath. He turned to Kelthys, hand dropping to his own hilt, but it was not the wind rider who had drawn. One of the lords from the Tharkonswald District had stepped in front of Kelthys and stood facing Mathian with the back edge of his naked blade resting on his right shoulder. Another sabre was drawn, and another. In the space of less than a minute, almost half the minor lords who'd followed Mathian had formed a circle around Kelthys with weapons ready. No one said a word, but there was no need to.
Mathian stared at them, seeing his plan crumble, and something worse than rage boiled within him.
'So,' he said, his voice cold and empty. 'There are that many traitors among you, are there? Very well. Go. Go, all of you!
Chapter Thirty-Three
'It seems they've decided.'
Brandark's tone was dust-dry, and Bahzell nodded grimly as he peered up the Gullet. There was little to see as yet, but the Sothoii were making no effort to disguise their intentions. Horses could make their way through this boulder-strewn stretch of the Gullet only two or three abreast, and the footing was treacherous at the best of times. That meant any sort of cavalry attack was out of the question, but the narrow cleft's steep walls acted like a funnel, bringing them the sounds of booted feet fumbling across rocky, uneven ground and the jingling sound of weapons harnesses or the occasional scrape and ring of steel on stone.
'Aye, but they'll be coming in afoot, not mounted, and they've lost some sun,' the Horse Stealer said after a moment, turning to look back over his shoulder. The Gullet bent sharply south to the west of Charhan's Despair, and its walls rose high; now the sun lay directly atop the western edge. The rude fort sat atop a low rise in the Gullet's stony floor which had once formed the waterfall lip of a broad pool when the Hangnysti ran through it, and the late afternoon sunlight spilled heavily down over it. But east and west of it, darkness was claiming the Gullet quickly.
'They've no more than an hour or so of daylight left,' he went on. 'Once it's gone, they'll not be able to use their bows so well.'
'Oh, only an hour? Well that's a relief!' Brandark replied. 'All we have to do is hold several thousand Sothoii warriors off for an hour-an hour while they
Bahzell grinned at him, then turned to check the rest of his men. All the hradani had brought shields, and now all those not directly behind the front wall of Charhan's Despair were crouched with those shields raised above them. Not all of the shields were the same size and shape, which prevented them from building one of the tortoises an Axeman army might have erected against plunging arrows, but most were large enough to offer at least the men who bore them fairly good cover. Kaeritha hadn't brought one, but Hurthang crouched beside her, and the oversized shield he held was big enough to protect them both. As Bahzell looked at him, his cousin glanced