Bard Klairuhnz interrupted the rough banter. “Kinsmen, did I hear someone say that Hail Morguhn, your Ganbard, would be quartering the next week at Morguhn Hall? If so, I’d like the hospitality of Kinsman Bili, for I try to meet every bard I may.”
Bili smiled, even while wondering what might be the mysterious “bard’s” real purpose for riding with him this night. “Of course, Kinsman Klairuhnz, you are more than welcome at my father’s hall.”
“Well,” grumbled Komees Djeen finally. “I still don’t like it, but three armed men no, four, I’d forgot your retainer Ahndros; he doesn’t look like much of a fighter, but well at least give him the appearance with a helmet and a spear you should scare off any skulkers. And I’ll have a couple of my troopers ride along with you, ’til you’re over the bridge and beyond the woods, anyhow.”
Turning to their host, he said, “Hari, unlock your cabinets and let’s get these lads and Kinsman Klairuhnz fitted with armor. If the party looks strong and sufficiently well-armed, chances are there’ll be no attack on them. As the adage of our ancestors had it: It takes the courage of a wolf to attack a guarded herd. And we’re dealing with only jackals here.
“Kinsman Vaskos, please ask your father’s servants to saddle our Kinsmen’s horses and that big mule Ahndros’s man rides. Don’t fret about my troopers, mind you, they’ll saddle their own.”
The troopers finished saddling all of the horses. Alternately, Komees Hari bawled the names of the missing servants and looked fit to die of embarrassment. Komees Djeen did not miss the opportunity to make the point that if Hari had had a few Freefighters of his own guarding the hall exits, the servants should have played merry hell getting out of the compound this late. At that, anger replaced all other emotions in Hari.
“Damn you, Djeen! My hall is not an armed camp! My people and servants love me and mine, and I need no barbarian jailers to lock them up of a night, nor to oversee them in the day!”
Geros, Ahndros’s retainer, led out his master’s horse and the Vahrohneeskos swung into the saddle, settling weightlessly, despite the added encumbrance of the three-quarter armor and thick, leathern gambeson into which Komees Djeen had chivvied the three of them, ere he’d allow them out of the hall. The rest of the party were already mounted and quaffing stirrupcups of cool wine laced with brandy, prepared by Vaskos and served by him and his orderly, Frahnkos.
At the open gate, Bili reined about and leaned from his kak to exchange final handclasps with Hari, Drehkos, Vaskos, and, lastly, Komees Djeen.
Speaking rapidly and in a low voice, the old Strahteegos told him, “I want to see you again, alive, Bili, so do you what I say. I think we’re all in far more danger than we now know. I’ll keep all here awake and armed until Dzhool and Shahrl get back. In those damned woods, form you a tight column and take the track at a brisk trot. If you let them string out, it could be the death of you or Ahndee or both, and . . .” Drehkos strode over, laughing. “Let be, Djeen, let be. They’ve a long ride before them. Surely you can find a better time to lecture on cavalry tactics?”
CHAPTER V
Once they were clear of the gate, Ahndros trotted his silver grey gelding up abreast of Bili and mindspoke. “Komees Djeen is a fine old man, Bili. I love and respect him more than any living man.”
“It is clear that he returns your love tenfold,” replied Bili.
Ahndros continued, “That’s why it pains me to say what I now must. Uncle Djeen dearly loves all aspects of soldiering, especially the fighting. He is constantly expecting-eagerly looking for, really-brigands or wouldbe assassins around every turn and behind every tree.
“Now true, things are not all sweetness and light in our lands. But it is my opinion that we let them strap us into these ‘Pitzburk steamers’ and are a party to robbing the sleep from those Freefighters back there, to no just purpose.”