“Dammit, Aldora, I don’t want to be a prince, any more than I wanted to be an archduke; I was very happy simply as thoheeks and chief of Morguhn, and you know it.”
“Nor do I want to be a High Lady of the Confederation; could I, I’d ride far west, to the Sea of Grass, and find a clan of the Kindred. But I cannot, I have responsibilities which shape my life. So do you, lord arhkeethoheeks. You have responsibilities—to your sovrans, to the Confederation, to all the law-abiding folk of that Confederation and to your Kindred. A prince who would not need to be reminded to rule by law rather than to allow himself and his judgments to be swayed by ties of house or kinship would be of great value to all. Zenos—Wind take his wormy guts!—has never been such a prince; you would be, it’s that simple.”
“But that matter aside. I charge you, in Milo’s name, to take whatever actions you deem necessary until he and I can reach Vawn, and Zenos’ likes and dislikes be damned.”
Arising from his bed, Bili of Morguhn took his famous axe down from its wall hooks and commenced replacing the rawhide-and-wire grip on the steel shaft, absently humming through his wolf-grim smile a song that had been popular during his war years in the Middle Kingdoms.
Myron had been assisted from the room, still gasping, gurgling and dry-retching in his misery, his fine clothing fouled with vomit, his flushed face streaked with sweat and tears and most of his weight borne by Gaios and a husky serving man. His mother proffered no word of apology for her sudden attack, rather she called for another big bowl of buttered-and-honeyed porridge and for another ewer of chilled wine. In ominous silence, she shoveled down porridge and swilled wine, her movements jerky with undischarged rage. The other children cowered at their end of the high table, silent and wide-eyed with fright. The priest sat petrified, the stains of her earlier outburst drying on his robes. Only Neeka continued to consume her food in a normal fashion—the “mistress” knew better than to attack her.
When she had finished the last of her vegetable broth, yogurt, boiled eggs and cucumbers, Neeka sank back in the chair, sipped slowly at the watered, resinous wine and thought about blind Ahl’s sudden comment that Mehleena would henceforth be forbidden use of the Master’s Chair; then she closed her eyes and sent her powerful, self-trained mind questing, seeking through the hall and every mind in it. What she found gave her such a start that she almost dropped her goblet. Her features suddenly drawn and pale as whey, she turned and touched Mehleena’s blubbery arm.
“We must speak privately—and very soon. That which we least expected is come to pass, but if we move quickly enough, we still may win the day.”
A wall panel near the head of Giliahna’s bed swung silently open on well-greased hinges and Mairee Lahvoheetos stepped out, followed by Ahl Sanderz. There was but the barest scraping of Ahl’s felt boot against the frame of the secret door, yet before the two had advanced more than two paces into the bedchamber, Tim had spun out of the bed in a whirl of motion and stood confronting them, nude, but armed with both bared sword and dirk. Giliahna still crouched upon the well-used bed, but from some hidden recess she had drawn and now grasped a wavy-bladed Zahrtohgan dagger.
Teeth showing in a sardonic smile, Ahl clapped his hands softly, saying, “Very good, brother Tim, sister Giliahna, for all that I deliberately provided a bit of noise for warning; I think me that perhaps a murder-minded Ehleen or three would not have been so considerate. Before we do or say anything else, both of you raise your mindshields, and keep them up. The mind of Mehleena’s pet witch is nearly as powerful as mine or Bili’s, though in different ways. Too, there’s another exceptionally powerful mind in this hall. It’s been here for some years, but I’ve never been able to contact it directly. Not knowing for certain that it is for us, we had best consider it to be against us. So do not mindspeak anything of import until this affair be sorted out and this hall cleared of our enemies.”
Tim sank onto the bed and, as he resheathed his broadsword and dirk, said, with a grin, “I think my heart almost stopped when you two came through that damned panel, brother. Who’s out to do me in, anyhow—you or Mehleena?”
The blind man did not return the smile. “Were it me, Tim, you’d never have survived your bath. You’ve been exceedingly careless since you rode in this morning. Didn’t Bili make it clear that your life hangs on a frayed thread in this hall?”
“These foes have already slain two of our brothers and our father—I believe that as surely as nits make lice, they’re immediately responsible for all three deaths, and for the loss of my sight, as well. They drugged Father and maneuvered the poor old man into banishing both of you, which we all know he never would have done in his right mind. Mehleena was certain you were dead, Tim. Now that you are returned and stand between her and her nefarious designs on this duchy, you can be damned sure that she’ll not stick at one more murder.”
Again, Tim showed his teeth. “Then the fat bitch had better do it within the next couple of hours, dear brother, for at the same time I left Morguhn Hall, so did gallopers from brother Bili. They bore archducal orders that the Kindred electors of Vawn-Sanderz arrive at this hall no later than the second hour after the nooning. Yes the Ehleen sow would gleefully slay me, but would she dare do in most of the nobility of this duchy? I think not, for she’d have Bili down on her in a trice and her kinship with Prince Zenos would be of no help to her—and she knows this.”
“No, brother, I’ll be duke by this time tomorrow. You’ll so notify Bili by far-speak and he, in turn, will inform Kehnooryos Atheenahs by the same method, while sending word to the prince via galloper.”
“But, by Steel and Blood,” his face looked as if he had bitten into a piece of rotten fruit, “to have a Myron for tahneest sets my teeth edge to edge.”
Ahl said, “There’s no need to fret about that, Tim. Even if we’re unable to eliminate the pervert in any other way, the mere mention by the chief-elect that he does or does not want a certain man as tahneest or sub-chief will usually change the minds of the electors. The tahneest need not be a member of the chief’s immediate family, you know—that’s only custom not law; the Couplets of Horseclans Law only insist that tahneest, chief and sub-chiefs of a clan be of blood relationship. All the electors are our blood relations, Tim, and any one of them would be happy, honored and even flattered to be selected the new tahneest.”
Tim sighed in relief. “You know them better than do I, Ahl. Whom would you say is my best choice?”
With no hesitation, the sightless man answered, “Young Vahrohneeskos Tahm Adaimian of Lion Mountain.”
Tim snorted and shook his head. “Young is right; he must be a good six or seven years my junior, Ahl. Besides, he’s half barbarian, isn’t he?”
Mairee frowned and Ahl snapped, “Ahrmehnee! Barbarian is a relative term, dear brother. To the cursed Ehleenee, everyone who is not a kath’ahrohs is a barbarian, to a greater or lesser degree—Kindred, Ahrmehnee, burkers, everybody. Tahm is kin and Kindred through the maternal line, and lest you forget, Tim, that is how Horseclans kinship is reckoned, not by the silly and imprecise manner of the northern barbar …” He stopped in mid-word and grinned sheepishly, then both couples joined in laughter. The laugher erased the tension which had been present from the moment of Ahl’s and Mairee’s entrance; the atmosphere in the wake of those gales of merriment was considerably more relaxed and familial.