Honoured Enemy

FOURTEEN. BETRAYAL

Dawn was breaking.

'Form ranks!'

Dennis passed the order as he always did, his voice almost soft, disdainful of the parade ground bellowing typical of too many officers serving in the Kingdom armies. The last of his men came out of the long hall, slinging on their equipment. Tsurani soldiers mingled amongst them, heading to the opposite side of the narrow street to fall into ranks as well, Strike Leader Tasemu, like Dennis, passing the order in a calm even voice.

Tinuva, Gregory by his side, leaned against the open gate, watching the show and it struck him as fascinating how both companies had basically the same rituals, the turn-out before dawn, the evening inspection, even the mannerism of the sergeants, who combined a certain gruffness with some and a touch of fatherly help with others.

The Tsurani snapped to attention as Asayaga came out of the long hall, dressed in full armour and accepted the salute of Tasemu. He then proceeded to walk slowly down the line, pausing to draw a sword from a scabbard to see that it was properly sharpened, stopping to adjust the buckles on a young soldier's armour, opening several backpacks to make sure all the equipment was properly stowed.

Dennis followed the ritual as well, though his men stood at ease, but at his approach they were watchful and respectful. He ordered one man to string his bow, then chewed him out over the fact that the string was not properly waxed and the ends were frayed; another man received a dressing down because his backpack was missing a blanket.

'If we had to pull out now, this minute,' Dennis snapped, 'you'd freeze to death the first night out and I'd forbid any man to share his blanket with you, damn it. Three days cleaning the jakes.'

After Dennis stepped past, Sergeant Barry gave the unfortunate a withering gaze and made a point of nodding towards the privies outside the stockade gate. They had replaced the slit trench Dennis had ordered dug the first day, but the privies needed cleaning whereas the trenches had not.

Inspection finished, Dennis turned to face the Tsurani who were standing less than a dozen feet away. Asayaga finished at nearly the same time and the two officers stood looking at each other, Dennis obviously uncomfortable with the Tsurani's insistence of standing at attention, thus forcing Dennis to do likewise.

'All equipment is in order. All my men are accounted for,' Asayaga announced.

'All accounted for,' Dennis replied, 'save for four on the north pass. Patrol to the eastern gorge reports no sign of the enemy.'

Asayaga nodded his thanks. The Kingdom soldiers had assumed the burden of patrols and watches so the Tsurani might observe their Day of Atonement. Tsurani soldiers would take extra watches and patrols to compensate the Kingdom soldiers over the next few days.

'I have no incidents to report,' Asayaga stated.

'Nor I,' Dennis replied yet again.

There was a moment of awkward silence then Dennis finally turned to look back at his men. 'The Tsurani, as you know, are observing a holy day that will last till sunset. Some of you saw the ritual begin last night. As I understand this ritual we may not speak to them unless they speak to us first. They will fast for the entire day and I ask that we refrain from eating in front of them. We'll stand their watches for them today so they may meditate and pray, and they will make up the difference tomorrow. I don't want to hear any damn comments about anything you see them do. They participated in our midwinter feast and showed proper respect.'

'And drank more than the rest of us,' a wag quipped from the back rank, his comment greeted by a ripple of laughter.

'Well, there will be a feast tonight, after sundown and we are invited. So be respectful and let's keep it peaceful.'

He turned back to Asayaga and the two saluted. The Tsurani broke ranks, stacked their gear inside the long house and then came back out. Several of the warriors saluted as they passed Dennis, their action causing him to respond with a confused nod.

'My men are grateful that you are respecting our Day of Atonement,' Asayaga said. 'When the subject first came up many thought you would refuse.'

'Why?'

'Just because, no reason was needed.'

'That's ridiculous. The request was reasonable.'

'Are you saying I am being ridiculous?'

'Are you saying I am being unreasonable?' Dennis snapped.

The two stalked off down the length of the street, arguing vehemently.

'Must they always seek a reason to argue?' Tinuva whispered, looking over at Gregory.

'You know Dennis, we've fought alongside him long enough. Besides, I think they almost like it.'

Tinuva nodded, turning away from the disagreement in the middle of the narrow street to watch as the Tsurani filed out of the gate of the stockade and formed up to face the eastern horizon.

The sun had yet to break over the mountains to the east, but the tops of the mountains to the north and west were already aglow, bathed in a radiant pink that glimmered off the snow capped heights.

Overhead the clouds shone in the reflected light of dawn, shifting rapidly in color, changing to a brilliant gold and at last the sun broke the horizon, casting long shadows across the snow covered valley.

Asayaga, who had finally come out to join his men, removed his helmet, placed it at his feet, then knelt down on the slushy ground, bowing low until his forehead touched the earth. Then he began a sing-song chant.

More than one Kingdom soldier, out of curiosity, stood by the open gate, watching.

For several minutes the Tsurani continued their chant, occasionally rising, then kneeling back down. Two of the men, standing behind the line, had lit a small brazier and the sweet scent of incense drifted on the wind as they brought it before the group and set it down.

From across the field to the north the last of the Tsurani guards returned from their watch atop the pass and hurried to fall in with the group, removing their helmets and quickly bowing before joining in with the prayers.

'Who's replaced the watch up there?' Tinuva asked, looking over at Dennis who had come up to his side to watch the ritual.

'I've sent up young Richard and Hanson this morning to join Luthar and Corporal Bewin.'

Tinuva nodded. 'Richard?'

'It's about time the boy did his share of duties around here,' Dennis said, his tone indicating that there was nothing more to be said about the lad.

'Shouldn't be too bad up there today,' Gregory interjected.

'Another few days of warmth and we might have problems. I want a forward patrol over the pass to check things out once this Tsurani holy day is finished.'

'We already reckoned on that,' Gregory said.

Tinuva looked around at the Kingdom soldiers who had gathered at the gate. 'Where's Corwin?' he asked.

'I don't know,' Dennis replied. 'Off meditating or getting herbs I guess. Why?'

'Just he's been gone a lot this last week.'

Dennis looked back at the group. 'Next time he heads out, trail him.'

The chanting began again.

'Just what the hell are they wailing about?' Dennis asked.

Tinuva cocked his head and listened. What little command he had of the language of the Tsurani had improved tremendously in the last few weeks. Like nearly all of his race, his sense of hearing was far more acute to the finer nuances of sounds, the subtleties of pronunciation, combined as usual with a near-perfect recall.

He nodded slowly, deeply moved by what was being said, and began to whisper a translation:

'Hear, O Hilio,'

'Hear, O Judge of the Living, for we call out to thy distant dwelling places,'

'Lost in the wilderness we call to thee,'

'Standing at the threshold of eternity, before the gods of all, we bow our heads in submission,'

'For we are but dust, and to dust we shall return.'

'We come into this world with nothing,'

'And must depart from it bearing the burden of the sins we have committed.'

'Forgive us those sins, Lord Hilio,'

'Forgive us our sins as we must forgive.'

Asayaga's voice trailed off into silence and again he bowed low, striking his forehead upon the ground. Then the chanting began again:

'Hear our cry from out of the wilderness, out of the strangeness of this world we call to thee,'

'For though we step across the eternity of the universe, still we are within thy sight and within thy hand.'

'Though lost in the wilderness, we shall not lose faith in thee.'

Asayaga stood up and turned to the smoking brazier. Reaching into his tunic he pulled out a small scroll of paper and reverently placed it onto the hot coals, so that the paper flared up.

'What's that?' Dennis asked.

Tinuva motioned him to silence.

'Receive our comrades who have fallen this year,' Asayaga said, bowing to the brazier. 'Gather them into thy gardens of paradise so that they shall know peace and comfort.'

'Names of the fallen from his company most likely,' Tinuva whispered. 'Last night it was a prayer for forgiveness. They believe the smoke carries the message to the heavens, and to their god.'

Asayaga hesitated for a moment, eyes darting over to Dennis and then he continued.

'What is he saying?' Dennis asked as the chant continued.

'I'm not sure if he wants you to know.'

'Tell me.'

'He said: "and our foes who fight us with honour, and whom we have slain, may they know peace in the realm of their gods."'

Dennis, startled, stared at Tinuva.

'It's what he said,' Gregory interjected.

Dennis said nothing. Asayaga caught his gaze for a brief instant but then turned away. In the shadows Dennis could see the Tsurani rising one by one to stand over the brazier and then a blade would flash across a finger and a hiss of steam would rise up from the blood-offering.

And so the Day of Atonement began, and more and yet more men of the Kingdom stood silent, watching, whispering comments as to what the Tsurani were doing, and what the chanting meant.

The early morning was cold as Richard trudged up the pass. His breath formed steam before his lips as he climbed up the path from the valley below. Eventually, he reached the hut which the guards used to warm themselves while they ate.

Hanson, Richard's companion, stamped his feet to get some life back in them, as Richard looked inside the hut. The fire was burning low, so Richard tossed a log onto it and poked it back to life.

Stepping out from the shelter of the hut which housed the watchers at the pass, he said, 'You wait here and warm up a little, and get the soup hot, while I go tell the others we're here.'

Hanson gave him no argument, and went inside while Richard went forward to relieve Luthar and Bewin, from their position on top of the cliff that overlooked the northern pass.

Both men were huddled up, their heavy capes over their shoulders, but they were alert, turning with drawn weapons at the sound of his approach over the crunchy snow.

'Anything?' Richard asked.

The two stood up, stretching, Bewin absently rubbing his shoulder which had given him trouble ever since a Tsurani had put a spear through it the year before.

'Silent except for the wolves,' Luthar said, yawning.

This was Richard's first time on watch in the mountains and though he would not admit it, he was excited by the prospect and responsibility it offered. Not a word had passed between him and Hartraft, except for orders and the usual chewing-outs since the day of Jurgen's death and he secretly hoped that this assignment of trust meant that somehow the commander was finally showing some signs of forgiveness.

The view from the cliff was magnificent, the mountain sweeping down across the open rocky slopes to the treeline more than a thousand feet below. Far beyond the trees were distant plains and in the still morning air he could see what appeared to be a herd of wild horses grazing. The next range of mountains, more than a dozen leagues away, stood out stark and clear, so close it seemed that he felt he could touch them.

All of it was snow-covered, the dawn light illuminating the mountain slope and ice-clad trees so that it seemed as if the gods had carpeted the world in diamonds and rubies.

'Food ready?' Corporal Bewin asked.

'Hanson's with me and has the pot of soup simmering.'

'I'd prefer some ale myself,' Luthar sighed.

'Well, our relief will be up tonight,' Richard answered.

'Damn Tsurani and their holy rantings. I should have been relieved last night.'

'They stood watch the night of Midwinter feast,' Richard offered.

'It wasn't my watch then damn them. I've been up here four days without a drink.'

'Stop your whining,' Bewin replied. 'It all works out. Let's go get warm.'

Luthar, grumbling, carefully worked his way down the rocky outcropping to the hut hidden at the edge of the treeline behind them.

'Keep a sharp watch, son,' Bewin said.

Richard smiled. 'I will.'

'I'll send Hanson up at noon to relieve you. Remember lad, stay low, don't move around a lot, and keep alert. Keep watching along the flank of the mountains as well as the plains below. They could try to work a few scouts over the tops of the peaks to swing in behind us."

'Yes, corporal.'

'It's hard to tell but out there, below the treeline, it looks like something beat down a trail, it could just be those wild horses, but I want you to keep a close watch on it. If you hear anything strange, see birds kicking up out of the forest, or if something just doesn't feel right, you come back and get me.'

'Yes, corporal.'

'Fine, son. Now off for some soup and sleep for me.'

Richard smiled. There was almost a touch of warmth in Bewin's voice and it did his heart good. Bewin had been the only one to take him under his wing and show him some of the tricks of survival after Jurgen's death: the rest of the company had pretty well cut him off.

Settling down into the cleft between two boulders Richard sat on the furs vacated by Bewin and Luthar, then pulled his white cloak up over his shoulders and head. From a hundred feet away he would be all but invisible and after several minutes he actually felt comfortable, as well as excited by the responsibility given to him. All the men of Hartraft's command, and for that matter the Tsurani as well, were now depending on him and he swelled with a touch of pride at the thought of it, standing watch while his comrades slept, or celebrated their ritual.

In the weeks they had been together in the valley he had become fascinated by the Tsurani. Having been assigned to Brother Corwin, he had spent hours helping to nurse the four wounded Tsurani and three Kingdom soldiers who had survived the bitter march to the valley. One from each group had died, but the boy he had argued about saving had actually managed to live, his leg now almost healed, and though Osami would walk with a limp for the rest of his life, at least he was alive.

The two had struggled to teach each other their tongues, and though the conversation carried little beyond food, the mastery of the Tsurani game of dice, and clumsy, laughing comments about some of the serving-girls, he felt he could call Osami a friend.

When the talk in the barracks at night turned to whispered conversations about what was to be done regarding the Tsurani once they left the valley, he felt confused. Some of the men talked coldly of simply slaughtering the lot once they were free and clear, doing it by surprise in the night. Others declared that given all that happened perhaps an open and fair fight was best after all, and that maybe it could even be settled by a duel between Asayaga and Dennis, and then the two groups could go their separate ways. And finally there were a few who said the whole thing was crazy and once out of the valley they should just back away from each other and call it a draw.

Richard wholeheartedly was behind that opinion, but given his position in the company with the death of Jurgen, he knew better than to offer any comment.

The nightmare of the moment of Jurgen's death came back to him whenever he slept – the way Jurgen seemed to hang in the air above him, the spear covered with his heart's blood, the eyes looking into his, his strange, detached smile as the light fled from his eyes.

And Hartraft. The way the commander looked at him, the coldness which had not broken once in the past month, that tortured him, too.

The lazy hours passed. Occasionally he would stand to stretch then sit back down. Towards mid-morning he thought he saw something moving down on the plains. He shaded his eyes, straining to see. It almost looked like a horseman, briefly glimpsed for a moment, apparently chasing a second horse, then the trees on the lower slope, several miles away, blocked his view.

Should he call Bewin?

He decided to wait, to remain still and watch, but the long minutes passed, and he wondered if his eyes were playing tricks, that it was just two horses with no one astride the second. The two horses turned and disappeared back under the trees. With nothing to point out he knew he'd look foolish.

He settled back. Strange how this all had turned out. He had expected the war to be far different – armies arrayed, valiant lancers to the fore in full armour, trumpets blaring, banners flying, the chance to fulfil all the childhood dreams of glory.

And yet, in the past month, he had seen instead a savage murder-match in the forest, men grappling like animals in the driving rain and snow, long, exhausting hours of running with terror at one's heels, the brutal killing of the troll which squealed in terror as its life slipped away; then the final mind-numbing march up the mountain slope.

No trumpets, no mentioning of his name in a dispatch back to the King, no jovial brotherhood around the campfire. And as for the enemy, that was the boy Osami, his own age, just as frightened as he was, the two of them secretly sharing a stolen bottle of brandy, shaking dice together and gambling over a few coins which Osami treasured as if they were jewels. And then there was the boring endless tedium of inspections, bringing in firewood, or toting the kills that the hunters made back to the compound.

He heard voices behind him and looked back. He couldn't see anything because the camp was well hidden on the reverse slope, but it sounded like Brother Corwin, – he heard a booming laugh, a snatch of a comment from Bewin rejoicing that the monk, having climbed all this way, had thought to bring along a skin filled with brandy. He started to move, then thought it best to remain diligent and to keep careful watch. Looking up at the sun, he judged that in another hour at most it would be time for his relief and then he could sit with the monk and have a sip of brandy.

Strange that Brother Corwin would come up this far, but the monk had taken to disappearing for days at a time, out to gather herbs hidden beneath the snows which might help to heal the half-dozen men down with the flux and the few wounded who were slow to mend.

An hour or more passed and Richard wondered if Bewin knew just how carefully he was doing his job, not drifting back to seek a few minutes' warmth by the fire, but staying, instead, at his post no matter what the temptations Corwin had brought along.

Again he caught a glimpse of movement – the herd of horses which had been out in the middle of the valley had been edging closer towards the woods which flanked the slope, then shied back, breaking into a run for several hundred yards before settling back down.

'A beautiful day, isn't it young Richard?'

He turned. It was Brother Corwin, laboriously coming up the slope, his heavy breathing making clouds of steam before his face, holding the hem of his monk's robe up as he kicked through the icy crust of snow.

Richard smiled. If he had had any friend in this last month it had been Corwin. The monk had shown him many of his secrets of healing: how to stitch a wound, pull an arrow and to staunch bleeding, his compassion shared equally on both sides and he had praised Richard for his own gentle touch and friendliness to young Osami.

Richard half-stood but the monk motioned for him to be seated. 'Don't show yourself, lad, one never knows who is watching below.'

'I haven't seen anything this morning, Brother, other than a few horses.'

'Still, the woods always have eyes.'

Corwin sat down by his side.

'Why? Do you think they are down there?'

'It's fair to think so. They know we are here.'

'Then why not attack us?'

'Because as long as there are watchers up here you can give sufficient warning. Three or four archers could tie them up for hours while a messenger was sent back. This is the only pass from the northern valley. I know, I've walked these woods for weeks.'

'Its so peaceful,' Richard sighed. 'One would almost think there is no war.'

'Oh there is war, young Richard.'

The way he said it caused Richard to turn and look into the monk's eyes.

And at that same instant Richard felt the blow of the dagger plunging into his side.

It struck with a violence he could never have imagined, an agonizing pain that drove the breath out of his lungs and he fell backwards, gasping.

Even as he fell back he could not believe what had just happened. Corwin stood up, dagger in his hand and smiled.

Richard, terrified, trying to breathe and yet unable to do so, looked at him, wide-eyed.

'Why?' he gasped.

There was almost a hint of sadness and pity in Corwin's eyes. 'I'm sorry, my son. I actually like you. Too bad, you were such a handsome young lad. Such a waste it seems.'

'Bewin!' He gasped the cry out, clutching his side, struggling to stand.

'No sense in calling for him. They're all dead.'

'What?'

'Poison in the brandy. Easy enough. I don't think they even realized they were dying, just a quiet drifting off to sleep. Quite peaceful actually. Then I cut their throats to make sure.'

'Bewin!'

A cross look clouded the rotund brother's features. 'They're dead, Richard. It's an old trick, I've used it a number of times.'

'Who are you?' Richard sobbed.

Corwin smiled again. 'Hartraft should have figured it out. I've been hunting him for quite some time. Years ago I was sent to his stinking little village to kill him, his father and grandfather but couldn't get close enough to poison their drink.' Corwin laughed and shook his head. 'Besides, I realized a better plan to punish the Hartraft clan. Strange he didn't remember me when I came across you all out in the forest, but then again I've put on a few pounds since, and no longer looked like the holy relic merchant I once posed as.'

Richard leaned over, coughing, frothy droplets of blood spraying on to the snow.

'I opened the pass the night his village fell. Just like here, poisoned the guards and stabbed the one still on watch, then sat back and watched the Tsurani storm in. Far more amusing to let one foe kill another. I followed the attack, knowing where the escape-hole was to get out of the keep. Too bad about the girl – the bolt was actually meant for Dennis, but in a way it was far more delightful in its results. It was kinder to her to kill her, rather than have her mourning her husband, and far crueller to have him watch her die, don't you think?'

'Who are you?' Richard gasped again.

'A servant of Murmandamus,' Corwin announced coldly. 'Long ago I was told to kill the Hartrafts. His father's estates were a vital key in my master's plans. Oh, I've stalked Dennis on and off over the years, but this cursed war made it damn difficult to close in on him.'

Corwin smiled, using the hem of his robe to wipe Richard's blood off his dagger.

'I was back with Bovai and his attacking column when we caught a Kingdom scout who, after some persuasion, said you Marauders were nearby. My mission was to get south, but the wonderful thing about the moredhel is they think in terms of years and decades rather than days and months. So Bovai sent me out to find you, infiltrate your ranks, but to leave Hartraft alive. With final revenge so close, Bovai must be half-mad to have Dennis's blood on his own dagger, not mine. After you're all dead, I'll return to my original mission.' He laughed. 'Actually it was quite masterful the way I ruined that trap you were setting for the Tsurani. In fact, they were about to head off in the opposite direction when I led them back to you and triggered a nice little slaughter.'

'But as for Hartraft, believe me young Richard, it would have been easy enough to poison him this last month, but Bovai wants the pleasure of that kill. Besides, I only had enough poison hidden on me for one more job, and figured I'd need that to help with my escape when the time came to lead Bovai through this pass.'

'You bastard!' Richard cried, feeling at last for his dagger.

'Oh lad, it's a sin to curse a holy brother.' Corwin snickered at the joke. 'Bovai's waiting down in those woods, boy. I just saw signs of him yesterday. Once you and your friends are dead he will attack. I'm sorry son, but it's time to die. Since I like you, let's make this easy. Just lie back and close your eyes. I promise it won't hurt.'

Richard, soul filled with terror, fumbled with his dagger, and held it up, gasping in agony with every movement.

'All right then,' Corwin whispered coldly. 'Now I'm afraid it will hurt, lad. I don't like defiance. Have you ever seen a man have his tongue carved out and then listened to him drown on his own blood? It's really quite interesting.'

Corwin sprung, but his bulk played against him as Richard staggered to one side. Richard felt a hot slash across his arm even as his own blade cut across Corwin's face, laying open his cheek to the bone.

Corwin, bellowing in rage, dived back in, blade flashing. Richard backed up, left hand clasped to his side, strength draining away and then the world seemed to spin around as he fell off the outcrop of rock. He fell, world tumbling end over end and then there was darkness.

He awoke to agony, the salty taste of blood in his mouth, and experienced a moment of terror, as he expected to see Corwin above him, having already cut out his tongue.

He waited for a moment, cautiously looking around, and then tried to sit up, but the slightest movement sent a wave of agony through him. Coughing, he spat up a foam of blood.

He tried to make sense of his surroundings, for the ground seemed to rise up beside him. He blinked and realized he was not where he had fought Corwin, but on a ledge a few feet below his hiding spot. He must have fallen over the edge when Corwin struck him. He wondered why he was still alive, then considered the drop.

The fat false-priest could hardly have climbed down to finish him off, and probably thought him already dead, or close enough that the cold would complete the task. And the slash he had given him to his face probably had him off somewhere trying to staunch the flow of blood.

With hazy vision he looked around and then, ever so slowly, stood up, with every muscle crying out in pain. He saw a small rock at knee level protruding from the face of the bank and stepped upon it.

Heaving himself upward, he almost fainted as he gripped the ledge above. Knowing he had but one chance, he forced himself to take a deep breath and pulled himself over. Then he collapsed on the ground and passed out.

Consciousness returned some time later and Richard sat up slowly. He looked at the angle of the sun and realized no more than an hour had passed. He got to his unsteady feet and looked around. The monk was nowhere to be seen. Stumbling, he wove his way back down to the camp. The fire still snapped and crackled in the hut, and there, lying around the fire, were Bewin, Hanson and Luthar. Poisoned by Corwin.

The realization filled him with rage. He leaned over, gasping and coughing and specks of blood splattered onto the snow.

I'm bleeding inside, I'm dying, he thought.

He looked back over his shoulder, wondering if he heard horses approaching. Were they coming already?

Looking up at the sun, he judged that it was well past noon. Corwin must have left him for dead more than an hour ago. Already they could be on the move.

Another spasm of coughing overtook him and he sat down, feeling such an infinite weariness that he was tempted to lie down by the fire and sleep. He fought it off, knowing that it was the dark shadow. Absently, he picked up the sack of brandy lying by Bewin, then remembered what it contained and threw it aside.

Crawling over to the corporal he slowly worked the waist-belt off of the dead man then opened his own tunic. Reaching into Bewin's haversack, he pulled out the field-dressing that Hartraft insisted all of his men carry. For the first time he looked at the puncture wound on his right side between his two lowest ribs. A thin trickle of blood seeped out and with each breath he could almost feel the air leaking away. He pressed the bandage up against the wound then ever so slowly wrapped Bewin's belt around his chest and cinched it in tight to hold the bandage in place. The effort caused him to cry out in anguish. Unable to button his tunic, he left it open and stood up.

Amazingly Corwin had not thought to take the horse tied off behind the hut. It was an old nag, used to haul extra supplies up to the watchers, and was there in case a messenger ever had to get back quickly. Richard knew that the monk didn't like horses, but still he should have taken the beast along – or killed it.

It wasn't even saddled, but the effort of doing that now was beyond him. He led the horse around to the side of a rough-hewn table set in front of the cabin. Richard crawled up on to the table and then clawed his way onto the back of the horse.

Facing down the mountain, back towards Wolfgar's Stockade, he set off. He knew in his soul that it was now a race, twenty miles against death. Who would win the race he wasn't sure. To gallop the old horse would have her wheezing in minutes and probably kill him with blood loss. To walk would mean a half-day's ride back to the garrison.

He gritted his teeth and urged the horse into a canter, settling in with a rocking motion that caused him more pain than he thought he could endure. He held onto the reins and vowed to remain conscious until he reached the Captain.

Throughout the day, except for the brief outdoor ceremony at sunrise, the Tsurani had remained inside the long house, but now, with the setting of the sun, the door had been opened and Asayaga stepped out. Dennis had just completed the sunset parade inspection and his men had stayed in place, talking quietly about the Tsurani.

Asayaga, dressed in full armour approached Dennis and saluted. 'It is the custom to have a feast at the end of the Atonement Day. We request your presence as guests.'

Dennis simply nodded, not sure what to say.

'Will you and your men please follow me?'

Asayaga led the way into the long hall. The great table had been scrubbed clean, plates were laid out, fresh rushes were on the floor, the room was filled with a sweet cloud of incense. The Tsurani were arrayed around the table, an open place between each of them and Asayaga motioned for Dennis's men to take the empty places.

Wolfgar, his daughters, and the other members of the household were already present down to the smallest child. Dennis accepted the place pointed out by Asayaga which placed him between the Tsurani captain and Wolfgar. The Kingdom soldiers were silent, looking around curiously.

Asayaga raised his cup, looking towards Strike Leader Tasemu who stood by the door. He stood at rigid attention and the minutes passed.

Finally Tasemu turned, faced the group and started a sing-song chant, and the other Tsurani joined in. The chant lasted for several minutes and then ended with lowered heads, the chant eerily drifting off into silence. The Tsurani solemnly raised their cups and flagons, drained them, and then slammed the cups down with a loud cheer.

Asayaga turned and bowed to Wolfgar. 'It is custom, that when the Day of Atonement has ended, a man brings into his home any wayfarers upon the road and feasts them. Tonight we are the wayfarers upon the road and we thank you.'

The cups were refilled from great bowls of ale set around the table and all the Tsurani raised a salute to Wolfgar, who stood up smiling, nodding his head in thanks.

Next Asayaga turned to Dennis. 'It is the custom, as well, for a man to then seek one towards whom he feels anger and to extend his hand, clasp his forearm, and to pledge that the year to come shall be free of that anger.'

As he spoke in the language of the Kingdom the other Tsurani fell silent, but from their expressions Dennis sensed they knew what their captain was saying.

'You and I are pledged to a king and an emperor who are at war, Hartraft. We must obey that pledge first. But I ask tonight that we will sit together without rancour, or thought of what we must still decide between each other. We are enemies, Hartraft, but at least tonight let us sit as honoured enemies and share this meal in peace.'

Asayaga started to extend his hand and Dennis did not know how he would react. Actually clasping the hand of a Tsurani in a formal ceremony was something beyond anything he had ever dreamed of doing.

Asayaga hesitated, looking into his eyes, and all in the room fell silent. A flicker of a smile crossed Asayaga's face and, turning aside, he picked up his own cup, filled it, and offered it to Dennis instead.

Caught off guard Dennis took the cup without even thinking and a ripple of laughter echoed in the great hall followed by a flurry of activity as the Tsurani soldiers took their own cups, filled them again and offered them to the Kingdom soldiers.

Dennis, nodding, raised his cup, tipped it slightly in salute to Asayaga and then drained it. A cheer resounded throughout the long hall. He put the cup back down.

'There are times, Asayaga,' Dennis whispered, 'when I almost forget that you are Tsurani.'

'And there are times I forget you are Hartraft of the Marauders, Dennis,' Asayaga replied.

Dennis could not help but offer a grudging smile and picking up his own cup, which had yet to be touched, he offered it to Asayaga, who drained it.

Tsurani soldiers who had been sitting at the back of the hall left the table and returned seconds later with steaming platters piled high with cold slices of roasted meats, which had been prepared the day before and soon all were sitting, eating their fill, the room abuzz with conversation, the men finding it amusing to fill each other's drinking cups and then press the cups into the hands of their neighbours, forcing them to drink.

'Your ritual was deeply moving,' Alyssa said, leaving her seat to come over and stand between Asayaga and Dennis.

'I thank you, my lady,' Asayaga replied.

'It is a shame that this pledge between you two could not be kept till the next year's Atonement Day.'

Asayaga nodded. 'War is war, my lady. Hartraft must obey as I do. If ordered to fight we must do so. The only question then is what is in our hearts.'

'And what is in your heart, Hartraft?' Alyssa asked, looking over at Dennis.

'I do my duty, my lady.'

'Is it just duty? Father has told me of what happened to you, your family. Is it just duty?'

'You have not seen this hall burn, your father dead, your beloved spouse dying in your arms.'

The words spilled out of him and, embarrassed, he turned away. She put a hand on his shoulder and he looked back.

'I know my father will not survive this winter,' she whispered. 'Your coming was the harbinger of that, and this hall will burn too.'

'And won't you hate the moredhel for that?'

'Yes, the ones who might do it. Yes.'

Dennis looked back over at Asayaga. 'Why do you even try?' he asked.

'What do you mean?' the Tsurani replied.

'This. All this,' Dennis said, a note of confusion and frustration in his voice. 'The feast, that prayer yesterday about the spirits of my dead comrades, the drink just offered. Why the hell do you even try?'

'Because I am Tsurani,' Asayaga replied in a sharp whisper.

Dennis, stunned by the intensity in Asayaga's response, said nothing.

'I don't want to be here, Hartraft. I wish by all the gods I was home, miserable as it was with the intrigue, the damnable Game of the Council. I am a retainer to Lord Ugasa, and his son who will rule after him, and have achieved the highest rank I may hope to achieve. I gained my rank through twenty-five years of dutiful service, doing what was ordered without hesitation. And ten years of that service has been here, on your world, Hartraft.

'I was ordered to this place, this war. Of the fifty of my clan who originally came with me there's only Sergeant Tasemu and three others left. The others are the younger brothers and the sons of those who have fallen here.'

Dennis nodded, and said nothing when Alyssa's hand slipped onto Asayaga's shoulder.

'I wish the men of Clan Minwanabi had never come to your keep, that you were living out your days there, that you and I had never met.' He spat out the last words sharply, so that several of the men sitting to either side fell silent, turning their attention to the two captains. 'But we have met, your family is dead, my comrades dead, and all that we have left is what is to come of our lives, brief might they be.'

He looked back up and Dennis was stunned to see tears in Asayaga's eyes.

'I just wish I could find peace and learn to forget.'

Then Asayaga stood up abruptly and turned his back to the table. More men were falling silent and Dennis looked around the room. The Tsurani were watching their captain, wondering what had just transpired.

Dennis saw Gregory and Tinuva looking at him curiously, Gregory giving the subtle hand signal to ask if there was trouble.

Time seemed to stretch out. He looked the other way. Wolfgar was silent, as if lost in thought. Roxanne, by her father's side, staring at Dennis, but there was no sarcasm in her gaze this time, but a look of pity and sadness.

Dennis stood up awkwardly, and took his feasting cup. He approached Asayaga, and held out the cup. 'If I have caused sad memories tonight,' he said, 'I apologize."

Asayaga stared at him and said nothing in return.

'The men are watching us,' Dennis whispered. 'They think we are arguing.'

'Always the men are watching,' Asayaga sighed, 'and we must act accordingly.'

Dennis shook his head. 'Take the cup, Asayaga: you need a drink.'

There was the flicker of a smile. Asayaga took the cup and drained it. Instantly conversation in the room returned.

'I suspect, Hartraft, that I've just received the most friendly gesture you will ever give to a Tsurani.'

Dennis said nothing. His gaze caught Alyssa's for a second and he could see the relief in her eyes. He knew as well, at that same instant, that whatever feelings she might have kindled in him were worse than useless. Her attention was fixed on Asayaga and there it would stay.

He returned to his chair, Asayaga sitting beside him, and the two ate in silence, the room around them echoing with laughter, bursts of songs, and a wild eruption of cheers when one of the Tsurani, with a throw of the dice, won a dagger from a Kingdom soldier who grinned when he handed the blade over.

'Made this bugger as wealthy as a prince in their homeland,' the soldier laughed. 'Them with no metal.'

Another soldier simply pulled out his dagger and tossed it to the Tsurani next to him and within seconds an exchange of gifts had ensued – Kingdom troops offering daggers that were far more precious than gold to the Tsurani, who in turn offered back equally precious gems and polished lacquer bracelets.

This exchange caused an almost wild hilarity to set in, and cups were raised, in many cases simply to be upended over the upraised face and open mouth of a nearby companion. Even Dennis had to smile at the foolishness and old Wolfgar stood up, slopping his drink, and began to declaim a ballad, but few if any listened.

And then it happened so fast Dennis barely caught the flash of the blade and spray of blood that exploded.

Sergeant Barry stood up, staggering, holding his right armpit which had been flayed open, arterial blood spurting out.

Dennis and Asayaga leapt out of their seats and raced around either side of the table but could not push their way through the men who were up, backing away, shouting, some still thinking that a joke was being played, others beginning to realize that the two sub-commanders – Barry and Sugama – were fighting.

Sugama stood crouched, a Kingdom dagger in his hand. Barry had snatched a knife from the table and held it in his left hand; poised to pounce, ignoring the rush of blood from inside his armpit.

'Sugama!'

Asayaga was moving up behind him, but Sugama ignored his commander. Instead he hissed something in Tsurani and several men started to move to join him.

'The son of a bitch stabbed me!' Barry roared, and a number of Kingdom soldiers grabbed their weapons as well.

'Damn it, Barry, don't move!' Dennis cried.

'You drink with these bastards!' Barry screamed. 'I even started to trust them and look at what you get in the end!'

He half-lifted his right arm, while still warily holding his fighter's crouch, blade up in his left hand.

Dennis looked over at Asayaga, at the men around him, and he leapt for Barry, trying to pin his arms. He knew Barry was almost as strong as himself, and when moved to a fighting rage, as he now was, he was all but unstoppable.

Barry tried to throw him off and Dennis saw that more than one of his men was standing by, not moving, just watching. And then he saw Sugama make his move, coming in low, realizing that Barry's arms were pinned. Asayaga was behind Sugama but out of reach.

Dennis tried to push Barry out of the way, never anticipating that Sugama would make such a desperate and cowardly attack.

The blade sank to the hilt into Barry's stomach, even as Dennis tried to push the sergeant out of the way. Barry gasped, doubling up in Dennis's arms.

Dennis dropped Barry, reaching down to scoop up the blade which the sergeant had let slip. Sugama was backing up with a look Dennis had seen all too many times in a man's eyes, the realization that death was closing in and that he was the one to deliver it.

'Hartraft, no!'

It was Asayaga trying to move between them but Dennis ignored his cry. He drove Barry's dagger into Sugama's stomach, and letting go, stepped back.

Sugama, with a gasp, collapsed against the side of the feasting table, wide eyes looking down at the dagger in his gut and then he stared accusingly at Asayaga and said something in Tsurani.

'This is your fault, Asayaga -' Dennis half-heard Tinuva whispering a translation '- you dishonour our ancestors by drinking with our foes. I curse you and all who follow you.'

Dennis turned back to Barry and knelt down by his side. It was obvious that the wound was fatal, and already Barry's features were taking on the sickly pallor of death.

'So much for trusting the bastards,' Barry whispered.

'I'm sorry,' Dennis gasped.

'Stabbed me with my own knife,' Barry sighed, his words drifting off and then he was still.

Dennis stood up slowly. The room was in deadly silence. Sugama lay on the table, curled up, looking back bitterly at Dennis, several men gathered by his side. In a cold rage, Dennis swept up a knife still on the table and started towards him.

Asayaga moved to get between them.

'Let me finish the bastard,' Dennis said coldly.

'He's dying already. You've given him a warrior's death.' Whispering, he quickly added, 'If you had not struck, I would have hanged him in dishonour, and my men would have come to heel, but now I fear we are beyond that. I cannot let you finish him while he can't defend himself. Let him die quietly.'

'To hell with that, he murdered one of my men! Step aside, Tsurani.'

'No.'

Dennis raised his knife and went into a fighting crouch, and as he did so all the men around them started to back up. He ignored the screams of Alyssa, the hoarse cries of Wolfgar.

'You could have stopped him but you didn't,' Dennis accused.

'He's as quick as a viper.' Asayaga said, 'I was waiting for the moment to grab him. I didn't think he'd strike again.'

'Step aside.'

'No. I can't, Hartraft, not with him already dying!' Asayaga cried. 'He was unarmed when you stabbed him and if I let you finish him I will lose my men. You must understand that.'

'Then take a blade, Tsurani.'

Asayaga didn't move.

'Take a blade!'

Asayaga, eyes fixed on Dennis, held a hand out to his side, and one of his men gave him a dagger.

It was Tinuva who finally moved between them, his back to Asayaga, eyes fixed on Dennis.

'Out of the way!' Dennis cried.

'Look past Asayaga, to the door,' Tinuva said quietly.

Dennis shifted his gaze and saw that Roxanne was standing by the doorway. Leaning against her was young Richard. For a second he thought that the boy had been injured in the fight as well, then realized that his assigned post for the day was at the northern pass.

All eyes in the room shifted to Roxanne as she helped Richard into the room, leading him around Asayaga, to stand in front of Dennis, and Dennis slowly rose from his fighting crouch.

The boy stiffened, as if trying to come to attention. 'The moredhel,' Richard whispered. 'Sir, the moredhel are through the pass.'

There was stunned silence. Tinuva tried to take the boy from Roxanne, but he refused, struggling to stand alone.

'Sir -' His eyes closed for a moment and he collapsed.

Dennis caught him in his arms. Richard opened his eyes again. 'Sir, I'm sorry about Jurgen. I'm so sorry.'

'That's all right, boy,' Dennis replied. 'Now tell me what happened.'

'Jurgen, sir, I'm sorry.'

'That's all right boy. Now tell me.'

Richard coughed, bright blood flecking his lips. 'It was Corwin. Poisoned the others, stabbed me. Sir, he was a spy for the moredhel.'

A murmur ran through the room.

'Around noon. He stabbed me in the back and left me for dead.'

'Noon. They could be here any minute,' Gregory hissed.

Dennis looked up at Gregory who instantly barked a command for the Kingdom troops to get their weapons. An explosion of activity swept the room. Asayaga shouted and his men ran for their gear as well but Dennis stayed with Richard, still holding him.

'I'm sorry about Jurgen.'

'That's all right son,' Dennis said again softly. 'He'd have done it for any man.'

'He rode with me back here,' Richard said with a soft smile lighting his face. 'I fell off my horse and wanted to sleep and he woke me up. Said I had to warn you and he would ride with me. He's waiting outside for me now.'

Dennis could feel the hair rise on the back of his neck and he looked to the open doorway.

'And sir, I was to tell you -' Richard closed his eyes again for a moment.

'Yes?'

The boy stirred. 'It was Corwin who betrayed your keep.'

'What?'

'He murdered the watchers guarding the pass. Bovai sent him to kill you. He couldn't do that, so he killed the guards, letting the Tsurani in on the night you were married. He was the one who did it. He was the one who fired the bolt that killed your wife as well, though the shot was meant for you.'

Stunned, Dennis leaned back, still holding Richard. His mind flashed back to the night at the keep, and now he realized why Corwin had looked familiar. For the briefest of moments, across from the tunnel exit, he had seen a man at the woodline, holding a crossbow, illuminated by the flickering light of the burning keep. He had been younger, and thinner, but it had been Corwin he had glimpsed as the man turned to flee.

Someone was crying and Dennis looked up to see young Osami kneeling down, reaching out and taking Richard's hand.

Richard smiled. 'My friend,' Richard whispered in Tsurani. He turned his head to look out the open door. 'Jurgen said for you to live…' and then he closed his eyes and his spirit slipped away.

'He's gone.'

Dennis looked up. It was Roxanne.

'You must act, Hartraft: the boy is gone,' she said. 'There is nothing more to be done for him, poor lad.'

Dennis nodded and released his grasp on the still body. Osami took the burden from him, gently smoothing the tangle of hair from Richard's brow and weeping.

Dennis stood up. Asayaga was before him. He looked past Asayaga to the body lying on the table. Sugama was dead. Dennis looked back at Barry who was dead as well. Several of his men had ignored the command to gather their weapons and were crouching by the side of the sergeant, eyes filled with hatred for Asayaga.

'We settle this later, Hartraft,' Asayaga said coldly.

Dennis nodded.

Tinuva was standing in the doorway.

'I can hear their horses outside the stockade,' the elf said. 'They're still on the side of the mountain, a half hour, maybe an hour away at most.'

'We leave now,' Dennis said.

'Now?' Asayaga cried. 'It's night. They've caught us by surprise. We should barricade and hold this place.'

'I was caught in a keep once before,' Dennis replied. 'I won't be again. They'll shower us with fire arrows and burn us out before dawn. We run. It's our only chance.' He looked over at Roxanne. 'Can you guide us to the west pass at night?'

She hesitated, glancing back to her father.

'She'll guide you,' Wolfgar said and Dennis realized he wasn't talking of her ability, but rather giving her an order.

There was a look of anguish in her eyes. The old man reached out and gathered her into his arms. 'Child, all mortals must face this day and we knew it was coming. Life has been good to me, for in the end I was given you and your sister.' He kissed her on the forehead. 'You can be as sharp-tongued as a viper, but you can also be as sweet as wild clover honey. I love you and your sister more than my own life. I'd trade all the years with kings for but one more hour with you.' He squeezed her slightly, then gently pushed her away. 'Now lead my friends here to safety.'

As he spoke he looked past her to Dennis and Asayaga.

'Settle your differences later, you two. It was a drunken brawl and men get killed in drunken brawls. Leave the dead here.'

Dennis said nothing.

'You are a Hartraft, boy,' Wolfgar admonished. 'Either command or step aside.'

The words were his grandfather's and Wolfgar spoke them with a voice that rang with the remembered power of long ago.

Dennis nodded. He shouted for his men to form ranks and prepare to march.

The column headed out of the gate of the stockade and turned south up into the forest where it would eventually pick up the trail that led to the western pass. In the middle of the column were the horses carrying the children and several of the older women. Half a dozen of the old men and women, however, had announced that they would stay behind with Wolfgar, and the partings from their children and grandchildren were bitter.

Torches flickered on top of the stockade gate and along the wall, revealing where several straw dummies had been set up, crowned with helmets. Wolfgar and the others remaining behind would move along the palisades, making as much noise as they could to try to convince Bovai the stockade was still fully manned. The ruse might delay the moredhel for a time as they stopped and deployed out before attempting to storm the stockade.

Tinuva, who had ridden out to scout, came in and urged the group to move, for in a matter of minutes the lead scouts of the enemy would be close enough to see what was transpiring.

The rear of the column passed and Dennis stood watching them. Wolfgar stood by the gate where his daughters were already mounted. They both leaned over, arms around their father, sobbing quietly. He reached up, patted each on the check, then slapped the rumps of their horses, sending them on their way.

Dennis waited for the last to leave, Asayaga standing silently beside him. Looking into the long hall, he saw the three bodies lying on the table amidst upended cups and overturned platters. It would be their funeral pyre soon and again he thought of Jurgen, picturing him standing within, waiting for the boy to join him on the journey. Somehow he wondered if in a way the boy was a replacement for himself and for a reason beyond his understanding his eyes filled with tears.

He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. It was Wolfgar.

'Along with you now, young Hartraft. Take care of my girls.'

Dennis nodded, unable to speak.

'And you, Tsurani. Marry Alyssa. Grandsons of your blood would bring me honour.'

Asayaga bowed low. 'Your request honours me, Wolfgar.' Then he said, 'And if it were possible, I would ask for she is…" He let the sentence go unfinished. 'But on my world she would be a slave, and there is nothing I could do to save her. I will see her safely to Kingdom lines, with my life if needs be.'

Wolfgar said, 'I thought it might be something like that. Very well. She'll get over you. Now, hurry along before the bastards catch up with you. And don't kill each other: it would be a waste of a good friendship.'

The two said nothing.

'Now go. An actor should know when to leave the stage, a poet when the lay is finished, and a bard when it is time to put aside the lute.'

Asayaga saluted and then hesitated. He reached out and touched the old man lightly on the face and then ran for the gate to catch up with the column. Only Tinuva and Gregory were left, waiting for Dennis.

'Goodbye, Wolfgar.'

Wolfgar laughed softly. 'It'd have been nice to have had one more night. I was planning on trying for that lovely redheaded girl, the one that's taken to the Tsurani lad who's wounded. Ahh well…' Still laughing, he patted Dennis affectionately and said, 'If you had the brains of a sack of rocks you'd marry my Roxanne. She can be a hard one at times, but she has strength and she can love. She would be good for you, lad. She'd heal that wound you've been nursing all these years.'

Dennis's face flushed, and he seemed too embarrassed to speak. He let Wolfgar accompany him to the gate, softly whispering his famous ballad about the shortcomings of the King and the memories it stirred caused Dennis to smile. Wolfgar's hand slipped away from Dennis's shoulder.

Before he even quite realized what was happening, Dennis was outside the gate, Wolfgar and the other old ones slowly swinging it shut behind him, then throwing the lock bar in place.

Dennis looked behind him, but the way back in, back to all that was, had been closed off.

'Come on, my friend,' Gregory said, 'it's time we moved on.'

Dennis set his face in a mask of determination. He nodded once and said nothing more.