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By Root 1022 0

Rakzan Hir-li was lounging, his enormous body dressed only in a long tunic of rough brown cloth. Over a small pillow, his bleached mane of hair spread out, all braided and greased and studded throughout with beads and charms. His heavy blue eyes drooped under their furred brows, and now and then he yawned, exposing his long teeth, filed to points, but Lord Tren of Dun Mawrvelin knew better than to think him sincerely drowsy. While they finished the rations of bread that did them for a breakfast, the lord sat on a leather stool in front of the Horsekin warleader’s couch, while behind it stood two human slave-soldiers, each armed with a long spear. The long, narrow tent itself was draped with purple and gold hangings, once splendid war booty, now smoke-stained and as greasy as their owner. Morning light came through between them in dim slits.

“The muster is now finished,” Hir-li pronounced, “and I can’t keep putting my captains off. They come to me and ask, is not the purpose of war to attack?” He paused for a sly smile. “What do you suggest that I tell them?”

“That the purpose of a siege, my lord, is to wait and force terms.”

Hir-li scowled, making the purple and blue tattoos covering his face ripple and swell.

“So I see, so you see, but they do not see. I think me that we must have a little blood to satisfy them.”

“As my lord wishes, of course, but Cengarn is a rock. If a man keeps kicking a rock, which breaks first? The rock or his foot?”

Hir-li laughed, nodding agreement, sitting upright in a motion strikingly supple for one so large.

“It’s a good saying, Lord Tren, a good saying. Among your own people, are you considered an eloquent man?”

“Among my own people, my lord, I am considered exactly nothing.”

The rakzan raised a furry eyebrow, then smiled.

“And so you’ve joined with us.”

“It’s one reason. My brother’s death weighs upon me, for another. He was killed in Cengarn by a stinking mercenary. I don’t care if they called it fair combat or not.”

“Ah, of course. Rhodry. The famous silver dagger.”

“I don’t care if he’s famous, either. I want him dead.”

“The high priestess told me of this.” Hir-li considered, his scarred and patterned face unreadable. “I will warn you. There’s another thing my captains say, that you don’t worship her with all your soul.”

Tren started to speak, but Hir-li held up a hand for silence.

“I am not asking you for any answer or protest. I merely repeat what they say.”

“For that, my lord, you have my sincere thanks. And has the high priestess said the same thing?”

Hirli never answered, merely got up and turned toward the back of the tent, where a human eunuch crouched beside a battered wooden chest. The rakzan spoke in his own language; the slave scurried forward with a long sleeveless surcoat, crusted equally with gold thread and sweat, and helped his master into it. Over the coat Hir-li strapped a heavy leather belt with a bejeweled lunette at the front and his gold-hilted saber at his side. He sat again to allow the servant to pull on his high leather boots while Tren waited, saying nothing. At last, the rakzan spoke in Deverrian.

“One of your men tried to desert last night.”

Tren rose without thinking.

“He will have to be turned over to the Keepers of Discipline. It would be best if you didn’t argue.”

“I understand. Did my lord think I would argue?”

Hir-li considered, sucking a long fang.

“I don’t know what to think of you, Tren, except for two things. One, you’re valuable. Two, most men grovel around me. You look me in the eye and try to keep to your old ways.”

“And is that a good thing or a bad?”

The rakzan smiled, briefly.

“Most men would never dare ask that, either. Come along.”

They stepped out into the bright sunlight glaring off the welter of white tents and threaded their way through the captains’ camp, as the grouping on the ridge was called. Here and there they met a slave, carrying water or some such thing, who hurriedly dodged out of the warleader’s path before he could swing a massive paw their way. Although at well over six feet tall Tren towered among