The Complete Legends of the Riftwar Trilogy: Honoured Enemy, Murder in Lamut, Jimmy the Hand. Raymond E. Feist
duty, honour, and sacrifice, and Dennis wondered at Wolfgar’s choice. For if any Kingdom men were doomed to the fate of the hero of that song, it was the men in this room.
Asayaga saw Dennis’s expression, and realized the song had some meaning for him. He listened to the story in the song, ignoring its odd rhythm and strange tonal qualities. The story was heroic, about a man who put honour above common sense. Asayaga was torn, because on one hand, it was a very Tsurani attitude, yet on the other, no Tsurani would even raise the question of failure and debate it, even within himself. To die for honour was a great thing.
‘I’ve spent too much time on this world,’ he muttered to himself, as Wolfgar finished to a deeply appreciative round of applause. Asayaga saw that some of his own men had translated for the others, and more than one soldier on both sides sat with eyes rimmed with moisture.
Yes, thought the Tsurani Force Commander, it is a powerful tale.
He left the room, ignoring the bitter cold outside, and went to the slit trench he had ordered dug earlier in the day. The men had used the common area in the centre of the stockade when first arising, and he had put a stop to that as soon as he realized there were no latrine facilities inside the stockade. No soldier with any field experience would let his men foul their own camp. Disease came too quickly on the heels of filth, a point that seemed to be lost on the barbarians. He reached the trench and started to relieve himself, a sense of relief flooding through him.
‘They’re happy in there.’
Startled, Asayaga saw that Dennis was by his side, relieving himself as well. Finished, the two stood silent for a moment, the blizzard driving the snow around them. The lanterns hanging on the outside of the long house swayed in the wind, casting dim shadows, barely visible as a heavy gust of snow swept across the narrow courtyard.
‘We’re going to be stuck here for a while,’ Dennis said. ‘The only way out now is through the high passes and they’ll be blocked by morning.’
‘It keeps the Dark Brothers out, though, even as it keeps us in.’
‘Yes. The chase is over.’
‘For now at least. I doubt if they will give up. We’ve injured them. If it was reversed, Hartraft, if they were trapped in here …’ His voice trailed off.
‘No. If it was me and my men trapped in here and you were on the far side of the mountains, what would you do?’
‘Wait you out.’
‘I see.’
Again they were silent for a moment.
‘You are a hard man. A hard opponent, Hartraft. Were you this way before the war?’
‘That’s not your concern. What we face now is my concern.’
‘Our pledge to fight, is that it?’
‘Like I said, the chase is over. We agreed to a truce until we escaped, and for the moment we have.’
Asayaga turned and stepped closer until they were only inches apart. He looked up into Dennis’s eyes. ‘What do you want? Come dawn should we roust our men out from in there, line up, draw weapons and commence slaughtering one another?’
Even as he said the words both could hear the laughter and the start of another song from within the long house.
‘We both know what is in there is not real,’ Dennis replied, waving vaguely towards Wolfgar’s long house. ‘We’re outside our world for the moment, but sooner or later reality will come crashing back in. Less than a hundred miles from here, this night, Kingdom troops and Tsurani troops are sitting in their camps, waiting out the weather, and when the blizzard passes, they will be out hunting each other, and the war will go on. Are we any different, are we excused?’
‘We could kill each other tomorrow down to the last man and it won’t change what happens back there. I am as honour-bound as you, Hartraft, but killing you tonight will not change the war. It is as if we are both dead and gone from it. Tell me, is it honour, a sense of duty or vengeance which drives you now?’
Dennis did not reply.
‘Is it dawn then? If so, I’d better go in and tell my men to stop drinking and prepare. You’d better do the same.’
He snapped out the words, struggling to control his anger and stepped back. Then he bowed formally, and started to turn away.
‘Wait.’
‘For what?’
‘Just wait a moment,’ Dennis said, his voice heavy, distant. ‘There must come a day, we both know that. Once back into our lines, yours or mine, we have to face that.’
‘So why not now?’
‘Don’t press me, Tsurani: the ice we tread on is thin.’
‘Go on then, say what you want.’
‘We’ll still need each other once the passes clear. The Dark Brothers will be waiting, perhaps even bringing up reinforcements. We stand a better chance of surviving if we work together.’
‘Is that the real reason?’
‘Like I said, the ice is thin: don’t press me.’
Asayaga finally nodded.
‘A truce, then, till we return to our lines,’ Dennis said haltingly. ‘We command our own men, and keep the peace between them. If any break that peace, you and I agree to sit in judgement together.’
‘With Wolfgar.’
‘Why?’
‘I suspect he might be the most impartial of all.’
‘You’re right,’ Dennis replied slowly. ‘He will judge as well. We share all rations, lodgings and work.’
‘Of course.’
Asayaga looked back at the long house. ‘And the daughter – Alyssa, what of her?’
‘I don’t know what you are talking about!’ Dennis snapped.
‘Fine then.’
Dennis hesitated then extended his hand. Asayaga took it.
Neither noticed the intent presence that lingered in the doorway of the stable and had heard every word.
THE BLADE WAS SHARP.
The tip of the knife punctured his skin effortlessly, drawing forth a drop of blood. He watched the tiny pearl of crimson well up on his skin, and turned his arm so that the drop might fall free. He watched as it stained the icy whiteness beside his boots. The daily ritual complete, Bovai sheathed the blade.
His left arm was scarred from elbow to wrist by tens of thousands punctures he had inflicted upon himself over the years so that the limb was now a mass of twisted scars.
Soon, he thought, I shall be done with this ritualistic self-mutilation. Soon the stain on the honour of my family and clan will be finally ended.
On the night he had heard for certain that Tinuva had gone over to the eledhel he had vowed thus, to draw his own blood in atonement, day upon endless day, until the blood of the traitor was spilled.
For Tinuva, the traitor, was also his brother of birth.
Lowering his arm, he leaned back against a tree and looked down at the fortress guarding the river crossing. They had been camped there for nearly a fortnight, over three hundred of his brothers, the remaining humans and goblins