The truth was, the wizard thought, blanking his gramerhain with an impatient wave, that if it hadn’t been for the presence of not simply one, but no less than three champions of Tomanak, either Tellian or Dathgar would definitely be dead. And if one of Salgahn’s men had managed to get an arrow or two into Bahzell or Vaijon-or even Bahzell’s Phrobus-damned courser! — Varnaythus would have counted the operation a resounding success, despite the dog brother’s spectacular demise.
But they hadn’t, and it wasn’t, which turned the attempt into an equally resounding failure. Although, now that he thought about it, increasing Tellian’s suspicions of Cassan would probably be worthwhile in its own right. After all, it wasn’t that the Dark Gods actually needed Cassan to win; they only needed him to destroy the Kingdom’s cohesion trying to win. In fact, it would actually suit them even better to see the entire Kingdom dissolve into something like that interminable bloodletting in Ferenmoss. Twenty or thirty years of civil war, preferably with enough attention diverted to break up Prince Bahnak’s experiment in hradani unity, would be just about perfect from his Lady’s perspective.
Well, since you never expected them to succeed in the first place, at least the fact that they didn’t hasn’t dislocated any of your own plans, he told himself as philosophically as he could. And you should probably make sure Cassan finds out about this as soon as you can do it without raising any suspicions about just how you learned about Arthnar’s failure that quickly. Not that a little delay couldn’t be useful. He smiled unpleasantly. After all, it’ll give you more time to decide exactly how you want to let Cassan know about Arthnar’s…misdirection. It never hurts to add a bit of salt to the wound when it comes to sowing dissension, now does it?
‹ So there you are…at last, › Walsharno said as Bahzell Bahnakson stepped out of the village inn’s back door. A cool, still dawn drifted under the towering oak which shaded the inn, and the hradani stretched hugely, foxlike ears half-flattened while he yawned, as the courser ambled over to greet him.
“And a good morning to you, too,” Bahzell said, recovering from his yawn and reaching out to rub Walsharno’s nose. “I’m hoping you had a restful evening?”
‹ It’s a hard, hard life,› Walsharno said mournfully, raising his head to lip playfully at the hradani’s ears. ‹ Some people get nice, snug roofs overhead, and other people get left out in the freezing cold all night long.›
“Freezing is it, now?”
Sunlight was already slanting golden shafts through the leaves overhead, promising plenty of warmth to come, and Bahzell chuckled and patted the side of Walsharno’s neck.
‹ Well, it could have been. In fact, it could have been raining or snowing for all you’d know about it, and if it had, I still would’ve been outside in it!› Walsharno returned with spirit. ‹ It’s not like I would’ve fitted into that wretched little stable, at any rate!›
“And no more did I fit into that ‘wretched little’ bed,” Bahzell pointed out. “It’s a hard floor that bedchamber has!”
He reached back to knead the small of his back, and someone laughed behind him. He turned his head, looking over his shoulder, and smiled as Hathan Shieldarm joined him and Walsharno.
“Making you feel guilty, is he?” Hathan asked.
“Oh, not so much as all that,” Bahzell demurred with a grin.
“But not for lack of trying. Is that what you mean?”
‹ Tell him a champion of Tomanak doesn’t resort to trickery to get what he wants,› Walsharno said.
“Now that I won’t.” Bahzell shook his head with a laugh. “First, because it’s a fearful lie it would be, and, second, because he’d not believe a word of it.”
Walsharno snorted and shoved hard enough with his nose to stagger even the massive hradani, and Hathan laughed. He obviously didn’t need to actually hear what Walsharno had said to make a pretty shrewd guess about its content. He started to say something else, then paused and turned his head, shading his eyes with one hand as another courser-this one an iron gray, smaller (though no courser would ever actually be called “small”) than Walsharno and obviously at least a few years older-came drifting over.
“Good morning, Gayrhalan,” Bahzell said courteously, and the newcomer snorted with a very horselike head shake before he nodded to the hradani.
There’d been a time when Bahzell Bahnakson had not been Gayrhalan’s favorite person in the world. Those days were long gone, but Hathan’s courser had been well named. “Storm Souled”-that was what Gayrhalan meant-and the gray’s temper was as stormy as his name suggested.
Despite which, he whinnied like a child’s pony in delight as Hathan reached into his belt pouch and extracted a large lump of maple sugar.
“Greedy!” the Sothoii said as Gayrhalan lipped the sugar delicately from his palm. The courser ignored the charge with lordly hauteur…and crunched the sugar loudly.
‹ It’s nice to see that some wind riders actually appreciate their brothers,› Walsharno observed.
“Ha!” Bahzell shook his head. “‘Appreciate,’ is it, now? More a matter of who’s after being under whose hoof, I’m thinking!”
“That sort of honest evaluation isn’t going to make you any friends, Milord Champion,” Hathan said.
“Aye,” Bahzell sighed and shook his head again, his expression mournful. “It’s a hard lot, this being an honest man. There’s never an end to the trouble it can be landing a fellow in! If I’d the least notion then where it would be taking me, I’d not have fallen so easy for Himself’s little invitation. I mean, when it comes to the sticking point, what’s one wee little demon one way or the other compared to a man’s spending his whole life long speaking naught but the truth? And me a hradani, to boot.”
Hathan laughed. But then he gave Gayrhalan’s neck one last pat and turned to face Bahzell fully, and his expression was far more serious than it had been.
“Gayrhalan says Dathgar’s strength is coming back nicely. Has Walsharno spoken with him this morning?”
‹ Yes, I have,› Walsharno replied, and from the strength of his mental voice Bahzell knew he was speaking simultaneously to Gayrhalan, as well. ‹ I think he’s almost fully recovered, although I’m none too enthusiastic about putting that to the test just yet.› He shook his mane and blew heavily. ‹ He’s not so young as he used to be, and I don’t think it would hurt a thing for him to have another day or so of rest before we head on to Sothofalas.›
Hathan’s eyes had narrowed as he listened to Gayrhalan relaying Walsharno’s comments. Now he smiled and nodded his head vigorously, but his expression was quizzical.
“I don’t know that I’d like to be the one suggesting to Dathgar that he might be getting a bit past it,” he said, regarding Walsharno with a raised eyebrow. “In fact, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t, even if I were a somewhat younger fellow than him and a champion of Tomanak. Having said that, though, I agree there’s no need to rush getting back on the road. And not just for Dathgar’s sake, either.”
“Well, I’ll not deny it’s easier I’d be in my own mind if it so happened we could convince Tellian of the same thing,” Bahzell acknowledged. “Mind, champion of Tomanak or no, I’ve no mind to be suggesting to him as how he’s ‘getting a bit past it, either,’ if it’s all the same to you.”
“I think that would be an excellent thing to avoid doing,” Hathan agreed fervently. “In fact, I can’t think of anything you could possibly say that would be more likely to inspire him to insist on leaving before breakfast!”