‘A fertility goddess? What’s fertility got to do with anything?’
‘Would you like to rephrase that question – while you still have your health?’
‘Maybe I should just drop it.’
‘Wise decision.’
They rode on out of Maghu, and Althalus struggled with what he’d just discovered. In a peculiar sort of way, it began to make sense. ‘No biting,’ he said to Emmy. ‘Just tell me if I’ve got this straight. Deiwos makes things, right?’
‘So?’
‘After he’s made them, though, he goes on to make other things, and he turns the things he’s already made over to you. You’re the one who keeps them alive by making sure that they all have offspring – or whatever.’ Then another thought came to him. ‘That’s why you hate Daeva so much, isn’t it, Em? He wants to destroy everything Deiwos made, but you want to preserve it – to keep it alive. Is that why your names all begin with the same sound? – Deiwos, Dweia, and Daeva? And does that mean that you’re Daeva’s sister as well as the sister of Deiwos?’
‘It’s a little more complex than that, Althalus, but you’re nibbling around the edges of it. There are some men coming up the road toward us.’
Althalus looked on ahead. ‘Maybe you’d better pull your head in until I find out who they are.’
As the men came closer, Althalus saw that they were wearing kilts. Most of them were also wearing bloody bandages, and several were hobbling along with the aid of wooden staffs. ‘Arums,’ he muttered to Emmy. ‘The markings on their kilts suggest that they’re members of Albron’s clan.’
‘What are they doing here in Perquaine?’
‘I don’t know, Em. I’ll ask them.’ Althalus reined in his horse and waited as the wounded men hobbled closer.
The man at the front of the column was tall, lean, and dark haired. He had a bloody bandage wrapped about his head and a sour look on his face.
‘You gentlemen are a long way from home,’ Althalus said by way of greeting.
‘We’re trying to do something about that right now,’ the sour-faced man said.
‘You’re of Albron’s clan, aren’t you?’
‘How did you know that?’
‘The markings on your kilts, neighbor.’
‘You don’t look like an Arum to me.’
‘I’m not, but I’m acquainted with your customs. It looks as if you’ve run into some trouble.’
‘That sort of covers it, yes. Chief Albron hired us out to work in a war over in Treborea. It was supposed to be a quiet little war, but it got out of hand.’
‘It wasn’t by any chance that little squabble between Kanthon and Osthos, was it?’ A cold lump began to settle somewhere in the vicinity of Althalus’ stomach.
‘You’ve heard about that one?’
‘We’ve just come from Chief Albron’s hall.’
‘We?’
‘My cat and me,’ Althalus explained.
‘A cat’s an odd traveling companion for a grown man,’ the lean man observed. He glanced back at his battered troops. ‘Rest a bit,’ he barked out the command. Then he sank down onto the grass at the side of the road. ‘If you’ve got a little time, I’d sort of like to know what’s up ahead of us,’ he said to Althalus.
‘Of course.’ Althalus swung down from his saddle. ‘My name’s Althalus, by the way.’
The wounded war chief gave him a startled look.
‘It’s just a coincidence,’ Althalus explained. ‘I’m not really that Althalus.’
‘I didn’t really think so. I’m called Khalor, and I’m the Ancient of what’s left of this group of Albron’s clansmen.’
‘You don’t look all that ancient to me.’
‘It’s a Treborean title, friend Althalus. We’re supposed to try to fit in when we come down into the low countries to fight their wars for them. Back at home they call me Sergeant. Did you happen across any groups of armed men on your way out of the mountains?’
‘Nothing out of the ordinary, Sergeant Khalor – a few hunters, is about all. I think you’ll be able to get home without any trouble. From what your chief told me, the clans of southern Arum are more or less at peace with each other. What happened to you and your men?’
‘Albron hired us out to the Kanthons about six months or so ago. Like I told you before, it was supposed to be a quiet little war. About all we were supposed to do was march around in places where the Osthos could see us – the usual sorts of things, you understand – flex our muscles, wave our swords and axes, shout war-cries, and all the other foolishness that impresses the lowlanders. Then the feeble-minded fool that sits on the throne of Kanthon got carried away and ordered us to invade the territory of the Aryo of Osthos.’ The sergeant shook his head in disgust.
‘You couldn’t talk him out of it?’
‘I tried, Althalus. God knows I tried. I told him that I didn’t have enough men for that and that he’d have to hire ten times as many as he already had before I could mount an invasion, but the silly ass wouldn’t listen. Don’t ever try to explain military reality to a lowlander.’
‘You got yourself trounced, I take it?’
‘Trounced only begins to cover it. I got a mud-puddle stomped into my backside, if you want to know the truth. Unfortunately, we took the Osthos by surprise when we marched across their frontier.’
‘Unfortunately?’
‘They didn’t expect us to do that, so they weren’t ready for us. That gave the idiot in Kanthon all sorts of wild delusions, and he ordered me to lay siege to the city of Osthos itself. I didn’t have enough men to set up a picket-line around the place, much less lay siege to it, but the jack-ass in Kanthon wouldn’t listen to me.’
Althalus started to swear.
‘When your vocabulary begins to run dry, I can give you whole platoons of interesting things to say about my former employer. I’ve been inventing new swear words for the last two and a half weeks. You seem to be taking this sort of personally’
‘Yes, I am. I’ve been looking for a young fellow who’s under your command. His name’s Eliar. He doesn’t happen by any chance to be among your wounded, does he?’
‘I’m afraid not, Althalus. I’d imagine that Eliar’s long dead by now – unless that savage girl down in Osthos is still slicing very tiny pieces off of him.’
‘What happened?’
‘Eliar was very enthusiastic about this business; you know how young fellows are in their first war. Anyway, the Aryo of Osthos had ordered his troops to fall back every time they saw us. Eliar and some of my other green troops thought that meant that they were cowards instead of men who had a very clever leader. When we reached the walls of the city, the Osthos just closed their gates and invited us to try to get in if we thought we could. I had this cluster of young enthusiasts on my hands, and they were all jumping up and down and frothing at the mouth and begging me to mount an assault on the walls. Eliar was the one who was screaming the loudest, so I put him in charge and ordered him to take a run at the gate and see how many of his men he could get killed.’
‘That’s a blunt way to put it, Sergeant.’
‘It’s the only real way to find out if a young leader’s got sand in his craw. Eliar was a nice boy, and the other young fellows all sort of followed his lead. That’s part of my job. I’m supposed to keep an eye on these natural leaders and put them into situations where they can prove whether or not they’ve got what it takes to lead troops. Getting some of your people killed is part of the business of command. Well, to cut this short, Eliar and his puppies all went rushing across the meadow toward the city gate screaming and waving their weapons as if they thought they could frighten the walls into falling down. When they were about fifty paces from the gate, it swung open, and the Aryo of Osthos personally led out his troops to give my howling little barbarians a quick lesson in good manners.’
‘By hand, I assume,’ Althalus added in a gloomy voice.
