Trumpets of War

III

Tomos Gonsalos was as good as his word, the force was ready to march by the end of that week . . . but it was nearing the end of the next week before Thoheeks-designate Hahkmukos and his virtual caravan of wheeled transport, pack animals, retainers and servants were sufficiently organized to join the column of troops.

Tomos Gonsalos raged and swore, then sought out Hahkmukos himself. “My lord,” he began as calmly as he could force himself to do, under the circumstances, “surely there has been an error somewhere along the line. No less than nineteen wagons have drawn up outside my camp—one of them being a pavilion-on-wheels almost as large as that one of the late Zastros and drawn by a full score span of oxen—a pack train of half the size of my forces’ remuda, nearly a hundred armed retainers and God alone knows how many menservants, boy servants, cooks, grooms, oxmen, drivers and catamites.”

Hahkmukos smiled languidly and sipped at a goblet of hot spiced wine. “Oh, there is no mistake, my good Sub-strahteegos, I only am taking along enough for my basic comfort, this time. I can send for everything else when once your troops have killed all my enemies and I am safe within my city and duchy, you see.”

Tomos bit his sometimes intemperate tongue, hard, and took several deep breaths. “My lord, whether or not you travel comfortably is truly of no consequence to this purely military movement, the planning of which is solely my province. A good proportion of Council’s army is being tied up in emplacing you in your city and duchy, you know, and the less time it is so tied up, the better for all concerned.”

Hahkmukos sighed, his smile departed. He shoved the barely pubescent boy who had been lying beside him on the couch off onto the floor and swung his legs around so that he sat on the side of the couch. Sourly, he said, “One would suppose that there is a point you will get to eventually, Karaleen . . . ?”

Tomos gritted his teeth. “There’s a point, right enough, my lord. The point is this: Satan will be chipping ice to cool his wine from out the main streets of Hell before I allow you to retard the march of my force with your huge excesses of baggage, transport, animals and retainers! You may place a wagon with my trains—not your pavilion, either, just a normal-sized wagon drawn by no more than three pairs of mules. You may bring your troop of mercenaries, but only if you are willing to place them whenever the need arises under the command of Captain Thoheeks Portos, who is to be overall commander of this force.”

Hahkmukos suddenly went as white as his ruffled silken shirt. “P . . . Portos! No, please, my lord Tomos, not Portos! The man hates me. I . . . never have I done aught to him, you understand, he ... he just hates me irrationally.”

The red-haired Karaleen officer smiled grimly, feeling an amused contempt for the man and his obvious funk. “Oh, no, you flatter yourself, my lord. Captain Thoheeks Portos does not consider you to be worth hating ... no, he simply despises you. And there is nothing at all irrational to that feeling, not that I can see, not after he told me just why he feels as he does.

“However, he is a good soldier, an obedient and most loyal officer. Despite his rather strong feelings about you, despite his misgivings, despite his presentiments that Council may have erred in your case, might have confirmed the wrong claimant to the duchy, he will follow my orders and force the folk of that duchy to accept you as their new overlord. After this meeting this morning, I am beginning to believe his presentiments, my lord. I agree that perhaps Council did err in the case of your confirmation; you clearly are just not of true thoheeks caliber.”

He spun on his heel and had strode almost to the door before he half turned and said, “Good day ... my lord.” His tone, the longish pause and the accompanying near-sneer were the closest he would allow himself to come to actual insult.

He had been back in his headquarters for some two hours when none other than Thoheeks Grahvos himself came pounding up on a lathered horse, to rein up, swing down out of the saddle, throw the reins to a soldier and come stamping up the steps and into the building, his face dark and worried-looking.

Alone with the sub-strahteegos in his office, the thoheeks waved away the proffered goblet of wine, declined to sit and demanded, “Now what in hell did you say to Thoheeks Hahkmukos that got his bowels into such an uproar, boy? Were I you, I’d take care to guard my back and hire a food-taster—men in the mood he’s just now in often seek out and retain assassins, you know. He seems to think that you and Portos are conspiring to get onto Ahndros lands, hire away his troop of mercenaries, then just turn him out and let his enemies butcher him.”

“He has a very vivid imagination, my lord Thoheeks,” said Tomos, “though how he twisted what little was said into such a scenario is a matter I cannot fathom.”

“All right, what was said, then?” snapped Grahvos. “Let’s hear your version of it.”

Tomos told it, he told it all. The thoheeks stood for a long moment after Gonsalos had ceased to speak, then he slowly shook his head, sank into the chair, picked up the filled goblet and took a lengthy pull of the wine it held. At last, he began to speak.

“Hahkmukos was among the first to rejoin Zastros when he returned from his years of exile in the south, in the Witch Lands, whence he got his wife, the Lady Lilyuhn. Both she and Zastros liked Hahkmukos, and so he gained preferment, going from one high post on Zastros’ staff to another. During the invasion, he served as chief quartermaster of the army, and in that capacity he became very wealthy, so wealthy, in fact, that he alone knows the full extent of that wealth.”

“Yes, my lord,” remarked Tomos, “and Thoheeks Portos is of the firm belief that gift or promise of some of those ill-gotten gains went far toward assuring Thoheeks Hahkmukos confirmation by Council.”

Grahvos made a face and sighed, squirming a bit in his chair. “I sincerely wish I could say that I owned full faith in the incorruptibility of all my peers on Council, Tomos, but I must be realistic and candid. Even thoheeksee have their price, especially must this be so of men who just now own their rank, lands that are not yet fully productive and cities, towns and holds that are a shambles, where they still stand at all.

“Thoheeks Hahkmukos is arrogant and not very likable; moreover, he seems to have made an enemy with everythrahkmeh he ground out of his various sinecures under Zastros, so the first vote went heavily against his confirmation, and there never would’ve even been a second hearing and vote had he not suddenly and miraculously acquired some active and very vocal partisans on Council. It is not only possible but very probable, to my way of thinking, that ounces of gold had vast influence on his acquisitions of ‘friends on Council’ to argue his case and to, eventually, vote in favor of his confirmation. Wisely, he and his agents never committed the cardinal error of approaching me or my closer associates—the Thoheeksee Bahos, Mahvros, Sitheeros, Iahkovos and Vahsilios—and it is significant, perhaps, that none of us championed him or cast positive votes on either occasion.

“So, yes, Thoheeks Portos is almost certainly correct in his assumption that Thoheeks Hahkmukos bought his title and lands, paid for them in specie and by most dishonorable means. But, still, I wish that Portos would be careful to whom he tells this dirty little secret, for nothing must be allowed to stain the Council; our sway is not yet sufficiently secure to be able to assuredly weather any really big and open scandal, not yet.”

“To the best of my knowledge, Lord Grahvos,” Tomos assured him, “I am the only officer that Thoheeks Portos has seen fit to take into his confidence in this smelly matter.”

Grahvos nodded and growled, “Good andgood again, boy. Let it stay that way; a lot may be riding on it.

“Now, that matter aside, what of Thoheeks Hahkmukos’ complaint to me that you refused to allow him to take more than an absolute minimum of personal baggage and attendants with the army on the march?”

Tomos simply called for a horse, led the way to where the wagons, pack train and retinue still waited and said, “My lord Thoheeks, I but thought this a bit excessive, besides which, ox-drawn transport would slow the rate of march.”

“And that is what you told Hahkmukos, Tomos?” asked Grahvos in a tight voice.

“Yes, Lord Grahvos. I told him that he might add one common-size wagon to the force trains, plus, of course, the baggage for his own troops.”

“Sounds generous enough,” said Grahvos. “I’ve set off on campaign with far less, many’s the time. And if he wanted more servants, he could just mount them on mules. I don’t suppose you would object to that, eh? Of course not. Then I can’t say that I understand his flurry of objections on this part of the matter; he’s had fully enough experience with armies to know that speed and flexibility are quite often important factors and that military commanders must always have the final word regarding the sizes of their trains, consequently. The way he told the tale to me, you were denying him everything save a canvas fly, a blanket roll and a pisspot. I’ll go back and have a few words with him.”

The thoheeks first made to rein about, then turned back. “My boy, do you think you might be able to get Hahkmukos’ mounted force away from this train for a few hours on some pretext or other?”

“Easily, my lord,” said Tomos. “Thoheeks Portos had mentioned that were they to march with us, he wanted one of his officers to inspect them, their mounts, their weapons and their supplies.”

“Very good, very good, Tomos.” Grahvos smiled. “You see, I had not ere this been aware of just how much Hahkmukos had brought out of Karaleenos. There will shortly be a detachment of Council Guardsmen and some others from the citadel down here to offload those wagons and examine the ladings; they will have authority to seize anything that resembles loot from Karaleenos or property of Zastros’ army, the former to be returned to King Zenos and the latter to become property of our government, as it rightfully should be.”

“One thing, my lord,” said Tomos. “Hahkmukos made mention during my brief meeting with him that this”—he waved an arm along the lines of wagons and pack animals—“is but a part of his holdings, and that he would send for the rest when he is installed in his place.”

“Thank you, Tomos,” replied Grahvos gravely. “I’ll have that matter checked out, too. I’ve the idea that this thoheekseeahn will end being far more expensive than our Hahkmukos ever dreamed.”

The encampment was set up just out of easy engine range from the walls of Ahndropolis. Cavalry ranged out in patrols, but no attempt was made to interdict the city and no entrenchments were begun. None of this pleased Hahkmukos, thoheeks-to-be, but only his sour looks and a few petulant low-voiced whines announced the fact; he had learned on the march to keep a low profile and to do so in silence.

Thoheeks Grahvos, shivering despite the heavy fur-trimmed cloak wrapped about him, growled at the thoheeks -designate, “All right, damn you, we’re arrived and you’re still alive, so do you still harbor the asinine notion that everyone from Tomos Gonsalos on down is out to kill you? Not that that seems such a bad idea to me, here and now. I’m getting too old, too full of aches and pains, for winter warring or campaigning, and it’s only because of you that I’m here, you sad, sniveling specimen.”

As they stood there, the huge gates cracked enough to allow for the exit of three mounted and armored men, one of them bearing a headless lanceshaft to which had been attached a rippling banner of snowy-white silk.

“Hmm,” grunted Thoheeks Grahvos. “Our herald’s bringing back some company, it would seem. I mean to go and meet them. You may go where you wish . . . should you choose hell, let me know, I’ll help you gladly.” So saying, he mounted his mule and rode off, leaving only Hahkmukos and the servant who held the reins of the showy palfrey atop the low hillock.

By the time the slow but comfortably gaited mule arrived before the command pavilion, the herald and the visitors were already inside with the commanders and a strong guard stood all about the enclosure, but Thoheeks Grahvos was, of course, passed with alacrity and without question.

Waving over a guard officer, Grahvos ordered, “Should Thoheeks Hahkmukos arrive, let him in . . . but be certain to first disarm him, and search him, too, but courteously, mind you.”

“My lord Grahvos,” said Captain Thoheeks Portos gravely, “this is Komees Klaios Kelaios, who presently holds the city. He avers that he has sent no less than six messengers to Mehseepolis to bear messages to Council, but that none ever have returned, and ...”

Seating himself near a glowing brazier, his booted legs stretched out before him, Grahvos said, “Tell it again, Lord Komees, from the very beginning, please.”

While the city-lord talked, Grahvos studied him carefully. He saw a man of about average height and medium build, heavily scarred about the head, face and hands, scarred in ways that the warrior thoheeks had seen often before. His age could have been anywhere between thirty and forty years, but if the former, then he was prematurely aging, for he bore the lines and wrinkles of care and worry. Save for a severe limp, he bore himself well and expressed himself even better, clearly born and bred a gentleman of the old, Ehleen strain, akath’ahrohs, and no mistaking the fact.

Grahvos liked what he saw before him far better with every passing moment of time. Should Hahkmukos live to twice or three times his current years, he would never, could never be of the like of this one. He put the aging warrior much in mind of his own sons, all dead in the long-lasting disturbances which had rent and racked the lands during the two decades now past.

When, finally, Komees Klaios ceased to speak, Grahvos turned to Thoheeks Portos and asked baldly, “He told you the same story before I arrived, then?”

“Yes, my lord,” replied the officer. “It was the same tale, though the second recounting was in more depth and detail.”

Before he questioned the next officer, Captain Sub-chief Rahb Vawn, he told the city-lord, “Lord Komees, the officer with the unusual armor there is a Horseclansman from Kehnooryos Ehlahs. Like many of his ilk, he owns the proven ability to read minds.”

Then, of Captain Rahb, he asked, “Did helie, Captain?”

The short, slender, reddish-blond man shook his head. “Not once, Chief Grahvos; all that he told you and us before was the plain, simple truth. Were it all up to me, I’d take his oaths and march back to Mehseepolis, for his mind tells me that he would find it as hard tolie as that other one does to tell the truth. You asked, Lord Chief, I have answered.”

Grahvos steepled his fingers and rested his blunt chin atop the forefingertips, staring hard at a point where a sidewall of the pavilion joined the roof. “Six noble messengers and their retainers ride out of Ahndropolis bound for Mehseepolis in a span of fifteen or sixteen months. Men trained and experienced in arms, Lord Komees”! Yes, of course, in these times, else they’d not have still been alive to undertake such a ride.

“One, maybe even two of the earlier ones, might have fallen prey to bandit bands, but most of those were eradicated by our army some full year agone, so what chanced with the other four, eh? It does give one to pause and wonder, gentlemen.”

He turned back to Portos and said, “Captain, send for Hahkmukos. I want the distinguished Sub-chief Vawn to delve into that cesspool mind when he hears the testimony of Komees Klaios, for Hahkmukos is the only person of whom I can think who might have thought he would gain from buying off or waylaying messengers from Ahndropolis.”

An officer was dispatched, but he returned alone. “My lords, the thoheeks refused to speak with me. He is in his tent, but he sent word by way of one of his guards that he did not care to speak with Komees Klaios and that all that he wished to see of him is his severed head.”

Portos growled like a lion, and before he could speak, Grahvos had ordered, “Lieutenant, assemble a detachment double the strength of Lord Hahkmukos’ guard and return with them to his tent. You are to go into his tent this time, and if any man tries to stop you, you and your detachment bear my witnessed orders to put steel into them.

“You are to tell Lord Hahkmukos that he is to come here immediately, escorted by you. If he still will not, you have my leave to have him dragged here, just as he is.”

As the officer was saluting, Sub-chief Rahb, grinning maliciously, commented, “It might be wise, Lieutenant, to take along a crowbar, so’s to pry the bastard from off his catamite.”

As the officer departed, Rahb Vawn commented to no one in particular, “Long’s I’ve lived among you Ehleenee, and that’s all of my life, I’ve never been able to fathom your kind’s fascination for little slave boys; you can’t get children on them and so it seems like such a waste.”

Thoheeks Grahvos shrugged. “There has always been a significant minority of our race here who have declared that women exist only for breeding purposes, boys and younger men for sexual pleasure. I, personally, never subscribed to the philosophy, but some of my peers back at Mehseepolis do, Captain Rahb.”

Thoheeks Portos said gravely, “I think that that subculture dates back to the days of the conquest of this land, before the conquerors had sent back to their homelands for women of their blood. They did not wish to pollute the racial strain through fraternization with the women of the conquered, some of them, so they made do with each other. I dabbled a bit in that direction when I was younger and still held my original lands, but no more, for it truly is a waste of precious seed for a man who needs to breed heirs and is getting no younger. But, even so, when I did so indulge myself, it was invariably with men not much younger thanmyself, not with the barely pubescent children that Hahkmukos keeps.”

Captain Opokomees Gregorios of Dahnpolis put in, “It’s rarer in Karaleenos than here or in Kehnooryos Ehlahs, and, I have been given to understand, rarer still in Kehnooryos Mahkedohnya. Of course, up in Karaleenos, we Ehleenoee have interbred with the indigenes from the beginning, or almost; you will find damned fewkath’ahrohsee among us.

“And, you know, my lords, although one might expect just the very opposite, I had a drinking bout and some very long conversations with one of Lord Alekhsahndros’ bireme officers up on the Lumbuh River during the late unpleasantness and he averred that such conduct is looked down upon in the Pirate Isles and is, therefore, almost an unheard-of thing, for all that there exist there far more men than women.”

Sub-chief Rahb nodded. “Yes, true, women are scarce there, but then the Pirate Isles folk practice polyandry—each woman having two, three, four or more husbands at the same time, reckoning descent through her, as too do the Horseclanners, rather than through the sire, like most of you Ehleenee.”

“Is it true, then?” asked Thoheeks Grahvos wonderingly. “Why, that is passing strange. It seems completely at odds to the very nature of men to willingly share one’s wife with other men. Legal adultery is what it sounds like to me.”

“Even so, my lord Grahvos,” said Thoheeks Portos, “we may very well have to promulgate something of the sort in our realms, are we to see a rapid repopulation of these lands of ours, wherein far too many of the males still extant after so many years of warring are either too young or too old or, like Hahkmukos, just not inclined in the direction of breeding.”

Rahb Vawn grinned broadly. “Lord Portos, I’ve got the answer for you. Just turn us Horseclanners loose down here; we’ll ride from one duchy to the next one getting younguns on any poor Ehleenee woman as is willing. We’ll charge you lords not a thing other than our food and bait for our horses, either; it’s the very least we Horseclanners can do for to help you out, down here.”

The assembled officers, nobles and heralds still were

laughing when the guard-lieutenant tramped in with a dark-visaged and very enraged Thoheeks -designate Hahkmukos in tow, followed by two grinning guardsmen with leveled spears held at waist level, their glittering points a bit downslanted to threaten Hahkmukos’ rump area.

“My lords,” announced the guard-lieutenant, “as you ordered, here is Lord Hahkmukos.”

“Did his guards try to impede you, Lieutenant?” asked Portos.

The junior officer smiled slightly. “Only one of them, my lord. When the rest saw that we meant bared-steel business, they recalled urgent business elsewhere, all of them.”

“Bright lads, those,” grunted Thoheeks Grahvos, adding, “Our thanks, Lieutenant. You and those two may retire to the outer room, the wine and the brazier, but stay within call, eh?”

Immediately the three had saluted and left, Hahkmukos burst out bitterly, “Was it not enough, Lord Grahvos, that you and our peers saw fit to rob me, to seize two thirds of my possessions from out my wagons and packs and warehouses back in Mehseepolis? Was it not more than enough that you and Captain Portos and even the barbarian scum from the north have treated me with contempt and contumely all of the time on the march? Why was it needful to humiliate me before my proven enemy, this usurper, this Komees Klaios Kelaios, who had me driven from the city Council gave me and had me harried from off the lands of my duchy by armed and mounted men?”

“Had you come when first we whistled you up,” said Portos coldly, “it would not have been necessary to send men to force compliance to our orders.”

“Whether you like me or the fact or not, Lord Portos,” snapped Hahkmukos, his anger and resentment overcoming his fears, “I am, by act of Council, your equal in civil rank, so you have and had no right to force me to come here or anywhere else.”

“Sweet Christ!” swore Portos. “If I thought for one minute that I was the equal of such as you, I’d fall on my sword from pure shame!”

“As regards action of Council,” grated Grahvos, “you’re no more than a designate until the third and final vote, and now that you’re somewhat poorer, now that other facts have come to light with regard to this other claimant to the duchy, I cannot but begin to doubt that that third vote will be so favorable to your claim as was the last one.

“And whilst we are here discussing claims, what know you of six noblemen of this duchy sent toward Mehseepolis and Council by Komees Klaios within the last year and a half, Hahkmukos?”

The man suddenly went from rage-lividity to the color of fresh curds, and Captain Rahb Vawn frowned, saying, “He’s guilty as sin, Lord Grahvos, that’s as plain as fresh horse biscuits on a winter snow. Such a whirl is his mind in just now, though, it’s hard to sift out facts. Can you delve any deeper, Gil?”

Captain of Elephants Gil Djohnz closed his eyes for a moment and then spoke. “I get the impression that while he himself did none of the killings, he paid others to do them, especially a stout, thickly bearded man called Yohseefos . . . something like that, anyway.”

“Lieutenant . . . ?” called Grahvos.

When that worthy stood before him, the eldest thoheeks returned his salute and ordered, “Take a detachment, go back to the camp of Lord Hahkmukos and seek out a stout man with a thick beard and a name on the order of Yohseefos.”

But before the young officer could even answer, the miserable thoheeks-designate barked a harsh laugh. “If all you had by way of proof of these groundless charges against me was the unsupported word of that bastard, then know that your man here killed him outside my tent before he forced his way in and brought me here. Other credulous men may believe in these barbarians who are said to be able to read minds and commune with dumb beasts, but I do not, nor does any rational, civilized man.

“With this usurper in the camp, in your power, why not just kill him and get it over with? With the army camped out in plain view and with his head on a lance, I doubt that any or many would offer fight to my guards as I ride into my city.”

“For one thing,” answered Grahvos, “it never has been my habit to dishonor myself or a sacred truce with murder, though I would assume you hold a different philosophy. For another thing, after these last weeks of closer association with you than I could ever have desired, I am far from certain that Council would want such a thing as you in power of any description within our realm.”

“Like it or not,” sneered Hahkmukos, “Iam thoheeks, and by your oaths you and this army are required to put me in power in this duchy, for I am, after all, my father’s son and my father was the half brother of the sire of the last thoheeks of direct descent of the House of Ahndros.”

Komees Klaios snorted. “If you truly believe that statement, then you’re the only one in this duchy who does! Although your late father was a decent, hardworking man who did the best he could by you and your brothers, his mother was widely known as an arrant whore, such as my wife’s great-grandfather used to cart to his palace in troops to entertain his guests at drunken brawls several times each year.”

“You lie!” snarled Hahkmukos heatedly. “My father was recognized the half brother of the late thoheeks.”

“Not so!” replied thekomees. “When the boy was four or five years old, the sire of the late thoheeks chanced to see him, noted his face and remarked only that he clearly was come ofan Ahndros man; he then ordered that when the boy came of age, he should be given enough gold to set himself up in a business or a trade. He was a most generous and kindly thoheeks; he

didas much for full many a commoner in his lands during his lifetime. That your sire and his mother chose to take the largesse of the old thoheeks to mean an acknowledgment of his paternity was known for long, hereabouts. She was laughed at by other whores and by everyone else, but because he was liked, people only smiled behind their hands whenever he mentioned his supposed close relationship with our late thoheeks.

“You know, gentlemen, if this thing’s father still were alive, I doubt not but that many of the older folk of all stations would be willing to accept him as a city-lord, if not as thoheeks, but not his eldest son, not this creature. Force me out, kill me, if you wish—for—as he just pointed out, I am within your power—but even without me, you will find to your chagrin that neither the nobles nor the commoners will accept Hahkmukos as thoheeks in peace. All of them remember how Hahkmukos left Ahndropolis, years agone, and they will never supinely submit to the rule of a parricide, nor will all of your armies of armed men be able to place him securely in Ahndropolis until all its folk are done to death!”

With a scream, Hahkmukos ripped the lieutenant’s sword from its sheath and, brandishing the blade high, hurled himself at the unarmedkomees, the cloak sliding from off his shoulders to show his body naked save for a pair of soft ankle boots and his golden jewelry.

He did not get far in his impetuous attack, however. Captain of Elephants Gil Djohnz thrust out a leg and tripped him neatly, then quick-moving Portos planted a heavy booted foot athwart the downed man’s neck while bending to pry the beringed fingers loose from the swordhilt.

“You want to see blood, do you, Hahkmukos?” Icicles hung from Portos’ words, and his tone was frigid as a mountain blizzard. “Then I suggest that we settle this business of claimants in the ancient Ehleen custom, gentlemen: let Hahkmukos meet thekomees at swords’ points in a death match, winner to take all. Will you fight him, Lord Klaios?”

“Gladly, my lord,” Klaios said, grim-faced. “Return my sword and loan mea panoply and shield and I’ll fight him with great pleasure.”

“No need to be so precipitate, gentlemen,” said Grahvos. “A man fights more comfortably in his own panoply. Let the other gentleman return into the city and fetch back your gear, Lord Klaios. You two can do your combat on that little plain just beyond the main gates of Ahndropolis—that way, more of your folk can watch it and so be witness to God’s decision in the matter at hand.

“It was a very good, a very fitting suggestion, Portos. My wits must be slowing with age or I’d’ve thought of itmyself .”

Turning to the lieutenant, he said, “Help the thoheeks-designate up, drape him in his cloak again, and escort him back to his tent. There help him to dress and to arm, then bring him back here. Oh, and fetch back a brace of his guards to be his arming-men for the fight, for I doubt if any gentleman in this pavilion would care for that ‘honor.’ You might bring him back mounted, for we’ll all have to ride out to the site of the fight.”

When they had gone, Grahvos seated himself again and called for ewers of wine to refill the goblets and mugs. After they all were again brimming and the servants padded out, he asked, “Lord Klaios, what is the story on this parricide business? That’s a weighty charge, as I’m certain you are aware. A claimant to a title or to lands must swear powerful oaths that he never has done such, save accidentally, in the heat of a large battle, and Hahkmukos so swore before the assembled Council. If he perjured himself, then we must know.”

Thekomees set aside his goblet and shrugged. “No one ever proved it, my lord, Hahkmukos was never declared outlaw, you understand, but the late thoheeks did make it clear to him that he would assuredly be made to suffer for it if ever he returned to this duchy while still he was lord here.

“When she who had been Hahkmukos’ mother died, his sire remarried; of course, this was while Hahkmukos was away being given a gentleman’s education at his sire’s expense. When he returned, his sire put him to work in his shop. Then, of a day, his new young wife apprehended her stepson in the act of forcibly abusing one of his little half brothers in the way of his kind, whereupon Hahkmukos clubbed herdown, all but slew her on the spot.

“Her screams brought her husband and a brace of his customers from the shop into the living quarters, and after the raging young man had been subdued and the wife revived, and her story and that of the child had been heard and witnessed, the sire became enraged and made a sincere effort to kill or at least do serious damage to his eldest son, but his customers—both of them old friends of the sire—restrained him from doing more than beating the miscreant within an inch of his life.

“In the wake of it all, Hahkmukos left the home and shop and he repaired to and lived for a while in the most disreputable section of Ahndropolis. A few months later, of a night, someone burglarized the shop, entered the home behind it, and slew the man, his wife and all of his children by her.

“Naturally, in the wake of all that had happened before, Hahkmukos was immediately under suspicion, but the thoheeks’ investigators were unable to place him anywhere near that section of the city at the date and time of the murders and robbery. Nonetheless, lest certain folk be tempted to do him to death on strong suspicion, the thoheeks saw to it that Hahkmukos left the duchy for good and all. And no one here had seen him again until hecame riding into Ahndropolis to gloat that he now was confirmed as our thoheeks and was looking forward to settling a number of old scores within his duchy.”