“Now the Horseclansmen were ever tolerant of the harmless beliefs of other peoples. Once the High Lord had exposed the misdeeds of the Eeyehrefsee of Kehnooryos Ehlahs which ranged from shady business practices and smuggling to whoremongering and slaving broken their power, stripped them of most of their ill-gotten profits, and smashed their financial empire, they were allowed to practice their rites almost unmolested.
“But the last twenty years have seen rapid and very ominous changes in the sect. Certain of the darker practices of the monster cults have crept into the rites of the Ancient Faith, and here and there a priest or a Kooreeos has taken it into his head to foment disorder and even open, armed rebellion on the order of the Djeehahd or ‘Holy War’ in which certain of the Black Kingdoms sometimes engage.
“Mostly, such insanities have been scotched before they got much out of hand. Alert Kindred nobles who weren’t afraid to shed a little blood for the good of all their peoples simply seized the squarebeards and their lay ringleaders, publicly tried them, publicly executed them, and then imported new Eeyehrefsee who had more interest in keeping their heads attached to their bodies.
“But Komees Peetuh, who was Regent of Gafnee for a Thoheeks son who was not yet of age, lived and died a very foolish man.” Then the Bard went on to describe the highlights of the Gafnee Horror-a loathsome tale of a rabble risen at the urgings of priests and led by noble Ehleen malcontents; of halls besieged, overrun, looted, then burned; of Kindred men tortured to death; of Kindred ladies dying horribly beneath the lusts of hundreds of attackers; of the blood-drenched sacrifices of Kindred children and babes to the dark god of the gory-pawed Ehleen priests.
It was Klairuhnz’s profession to spin good tales and he was a past master at his art. The pictures he spoke were real-terribly real Both Bili and Vaskos could see the surging, bloodthirsty mobs and hear their savage roarings, could hear the clash of arms and the crackling of the fires and the screams of the wounded or tormented or dying, could smell the smoke of burning halls and the stink of burning flesh in the Bard’s words.
The priests had been shrewd in the timing of their rising, choosing the beginning of what promised to be a bad winter, when communications between principalities would be sketchy at best. And what few travelers did enter the Duchy of Gafnee never left it; the sinister Eeyehrefsee saw to that. When, with the late arrival of spring, it came time for the New Year Council, all the nobles of the Archduchy were surprised at the absence of Komees Peetuh, who had ere been one of the first arrivals at Lohfospolis.
Ahrkeethoheeks Eevahnos delayed the Council for a couple of days and sent an officer of his guard to see what might be detaining his old friend. When that officer failed to return, another officer was sent, along with a half troop of horseguards. None of those men ever came back either, but a couple of wounded troophorses stumbled in. The saddle of one was covered in crusted blood, and a mind speaker got from both animals a story of deceit and butchery.
“At that juncture,” Klairuhnz continued, “Lord Eevahnos had the hillfires lit and called up the levy. With the spearlevymen and the Kindred cavalry and the Freefighters of his guard, he sealed the borders of Gafnee and initiated tentative scoutings into it, while his messengers rode north, west, and south.
“It so happened that Strahteegos Vahrohnos Fil Kuk of Kukpolis was on the march to the Southern Duchies with three thousand kahtahfrahktoee. He and his two squadrons were encamped near Gastohnya, when one of the Ahrkeethoheeks gallopers happened that way.
“He at once broke camp. By dawn, he was on Gafnee’s northern border, where he picked up a few Kindred cavalry and a troop of Freefighters, then swept down into Gafnee, to the very gates of Gafneepolis. And there they camped until Eevahnos and his ragtag army joined them.
“Now the original city of Gafneepolis was razed by King Zastros’s army a hundred years ago, and wasn’t rebuilt for about ten years. Having nothing to fear, they thought, those who built its walls made them neither thick nor high and pierced them for double the usual number of gates. Such a position, defended as it was principally by priests, peasants, and tradesmen, had not a chance against the attack of professionals. It fell quickly.”