Revenge Of The Horseclans by Robert Adams

The old nobleman’s hair was yellow white, his face was lined, and liver spots blotched his big, square hands and thick forearms; otherwise, he bore his fifty-six years admirably. For he was not stooped, though at five-and-a-half feet he was some six inches shorter than Bili, and his brown eyes glittered with intelligence. His grip on his visitor’s hand was firm until Bili actually succeeded to the duchy, he and the Komees were equals in rank and his friendly voice was deep and rolling.

“It’s as well that Hofos announced you, Bili, for Fd never have known you otherwise. You are most welcome in my hall. But… how fares Hwahruhn, lad?”

Bili shook his head and repeated all that his mothers had been told by Master Ahlee.

His host sighed. “Sacred Sun grant that when I go to Wind, it be a quick death, for if I could not ride among my herds . . . But it may not be so hard on Hwahruhn, for he has done little save read for near twenty years.” He sighed again, then draped a long arm about Bill’s shoulders.

Smiling, he said, “Come to my office, lad, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.

No introduction was needed to recognize the waiting stranger’s kinship to the Komees. Except for fewer lines in the face, black eyes and black hair shot with grey, he might have been Lord Hari’s twin. Nor would Bili have been hardput to name the man’s profession, for the calluses on his bluish cheeks and the bridge of his big nose, as well as the permanent dent across the forehead, could only have been caused by a helmet. White against the browned skin, cicatrices of old wounds crosshatched each other on every visible part of his burly body. As he came toward them, he favored his right leg, the thigh of which showed, below his short leather trousers, the purple pink puckering of a still healing injury.

His handgrip was as firm as that of the Komees and he precluded a formal introduction by announcing, “Now, it’s a real pleasure to meet you, young sir. I am Vaskos Daiviz, natural son of the Komees. Despite the wastage of much of my life in dissipation and varied misconduct, my father still allows me his name.” His disarming grin showed big, yellow teeth.

Komees Hari chuckled, but when he spoke a fierce pride suffused his voice. “I can think of no living man, Bili, who would not be honored to name Vaskos here his son! When he was fifteen, he enlisted as a spearman in the Army of the Confederation. Now he is a Keeleechstos and a weapons master, as well. To attest to his skill and valor, he holds the Order of the Golden Cat! And, when he returns to Kehnooryos Atheenahs from this convalescent leave, he is to be appointed a Substrahteegos. Could any man own a finer son?”

Blushing and fidgeting with embarrassment, the general-to-be gazed at the floortiles. Then, clearing his throat, he changed the subject before more could be said. “My father’s wine is superb, sir. But he must talk forever, ere he offers it. My wind is not so long and very little. Speech tends to dry my throat.”

Bili found that the wine was indeed superb. When, after the ritual of mutual healths and toasts to the High Lord and The Morguhn, the cups were refilled, Komees Hari apologized for the absence of his wife and daughters, chuckling ruefully.

“Your arrival, Bili, has set my girls all aflutter especially Eeyohahnah and Mehleesah, who are at or near marriageable age . . . though where I’ll get the gold to dower two more daughters is in the lap of Sacred Sun!”

He shook his white head. “I suppose that peace is wonderful for many of our Confederation, but it spells hard times for a man whose livelihood is the breeding of war horses, what with high taxes and a profusion of daughters to be adequately dowered.

“You see, lad, Vaskos is my only son. None of my wives’ male infants lived more than a couple of weeks; and, can I secure Council’s approval, he’ll be my heir. How could any Council refuse to grant legitimacy to a Strahteegos of our Confederation? Although after I’ve provided dots for Eeyohahnah and Mehleesah and little Behtee, my title, my sword, and my ledgerbooks are about all I’ll probably be able to leave him.

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