“As for the thing who called himself my father, Bili, what know you of him?”
“Right little, Ahndee,” Bili answered, and could not help adding, “And none of that little good, I’m afraid.”
Ahndee immediately reassured him, saying, “I meant what I said before, Bili. Unpleasant as it is, the truth does not offend me. Now, what do you know of the late Vahrohneeskos Ehlmos?”
“If you insist, Kinsman.” Bili set his jaw. “It is said that right often he appeared in public garbed in your mother’s clothing and jewels, with his lips and eyes and cheeks painted. It is also said that, after your mother’s death, he coerced an Ehleen priest into reciting marriage rites over him and . . . and a blacksmith’s apprentice, that the Vahrohneeskos’s bridal costume cost near five hundred thrahkmehs. It is said that all his court were compelled to witness the events of his bridal night and . . . and that . . . that your father wept and wailed and .. . and whimpered like a maiden, when first the apprentice took him.
“But, Ahndee,” he hurriedly added, “these are but things I have heard said over the years, mostly servants’ gossip, probably.”
“No, Bili, truth, all of it excepting the first part. My mother was a tiny woman, her clothing would never have fitted the Vahrohneeskos. No, his female clothing was all made expressly for him, tailored to his measure. You see, he . . .” Ahndee broke off as Bili suddenly halted Mahvros.
They were at the crest of a low hillock, beyond which the road ran arrowstraight to the wagonwide, wooden bridge. Beyond the bridge, crouching like some monstrous beast of nightmare, loomed the black forest.
And danger lurked within that forest, this Bili knew! Although that danger’s emanations lay just beyond the range of his perceptions, still could he sense its presence. But his far-range perceptivity was very tricky; Bili would have been the first to admit to that fact. The hostile impressions given him by some something lodged amongst that gloomy host of thickholed trees could easily be a short-tempered boar or a hungry bear or both together.
Bard Klairuhnz walked his highspirited mount up to the slope, reining in beside Bili, and the three battlewise veterans briefly studied the bridge, its approaches, and the deep, swiftflowing stream whose high banks it joined. The moon had once more freed herself of the shrouding clouds and her pale radiance allowed Bili his first glimpse of the Bard since they had quit the torchlit courtyard of Horse Hall. Though Klairuhnz smiled warmly-supposedly at Bili-his black eyes were on Ahndee, and Bili once more had that weird feeling that the two were somehow communicating . . . and that feeling did nothing to detract from his general uneasiness.
Partially to soothe himself, he uncased his axe, for he always felt secure and happy with the hidewound haft in his hand. That done, he hung the bared weapon from a heavy hook let into the flaring pommel of his kak, dismounted, and loosened, then lengthened, his stirrup leathers. When he remounted, he was no longer sitting Mahvros-the great beast, recognizing the familiar preparations for imminent combat, stamping and snorting his joyful anticipation. Most of his weight was now on his booted feet.
Ahndee’s handsome face mirrored his incredulity. “Why in the world did you do that, Bili? It looks to be damned unsteady and uncomfortable.”
Bili laughed merrily. “You’re a swordsman, Kinsman. Were you an axeman now-and with your build, you’d be a natural axewielder, you know-you’d not need to ask.” Seeing that his companion still did not understand, Bili went on patiently, “What’s the weight of your sword, Ahndee? Three pounds? Five? My good axe weighs thirteen Harzburk pounds, the equal of more than a dozen of your Ehleen keelohs, so the arms and shoulders are not enough. To use it properly, to get a swing powerful enough to stave in armor, requires the muscles of the lower back and the legs as well.”
Ahndee still looked a bit dubiously at Bill’s “seat.” “If you say so, Bili. But how do you manage to stay astride, if you have to move faster than a slow trot?”