David Eddings

The Redemption of Althalus


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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.

      ‘Also by foot. They tramped all over my little boys. Eliar was right in the thick of things, naturally, and he was really doing quite well until he came up against the Aryo himself – who just happened to be armed with a battle-axe. Eliar took a wild swing at the Aryo’s head with his sword, and the Aryo blocked it with his axe. Eliar’s sword broke off just above the hilt, and I thought, “Well, goodbye, Eliar”. But the boy surprised me – and he probably surprised the Aryo even more. He threw what was left of his sword right at the Aryo’s face and went for his dagger. Before the Aryo could regain his balance, Eliar was all over him, and he was working that dagger double-time. He must have stabbed that poor nobleman two dozen times, and he left a gash as wide as his hand with every stab. I didn’t really think that ornamental dagger of his was worth all that much, but it certainly leaves big holes in people if a man uses it right. The Aryo’s men swarmed Eliar under, of course, and they took him and some of his men prisoner and went back into the city with them.’

      ‘Who was this woman you mentioned before?’

      ‘The Aryo’s daughter. There’s a girl who can probably cut glass with her voice from a mile away. We could hear her very clearly when her father’s soldiers carried his body to her. We even heard her when she ordered the soldiers to come out of the city and chop us into little pieces. I didn’t think real soldiers would take orders from a woman, but Andine’s got the kind of voice you can’t really ignore.’ Khalor winced. ‘It seems that I can still hear her. But for all I know, I really can. You’ve never heard a voice like that one. It’s only been two and a half weeks, and she might very well be still screaming about how many yards of our entrails she wants draped over every tree in the vicinity.’

      ‘Andine?’