Legends of the Riftwar

by Raymond E. Feist

  Other men piled into the bath-house, hanging up their tunics on pegs hammered into the outside wall, then sitting on the steps to pull off their foot-wrappings or boots before venturing in.

  ‘I still say it’s dangerous,’ Wolfgar grumbled. ‘All that hot water opens up the skin so evil vapours can get in and make you sick.’

  ‘How many of your men have boils?’ Asayaga asked, looking over at Dennis.

  ‘I don’t know. A dozen or so.’

  ‘Diseases of the skin, you Kingdom soldiers are riddled with it. You’re the filthiest people I’ve ever laid eyes on. How often do you bathe? Once a year whether you need it or not?’

  ‘Like Wolfgar said, it’s unhealthy. It’s fine for women but they’re different.’

  Asayaga laughed and shook his head. ‘Try it with me.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The bath. Yes, you, Hartraft: or are you afraid?’

  Wolfgar threw back his head and laughed. ‘He’s got you.’

  ‘We don’t have much time before evening parade, so will you?’

  ‘Getting the dirt off you might make Alyssa notice you,’ Wolfgar interjected with a grin, ‘or even Roxanne.’

  As if the mention of their names was a summons, the two daughters, along with several of the women of the stockade, came out of the gate wrapped in heavy towels, laughing and pointing at the men cavorting in the slush. The sight of them caused the Kingdom soldiers to scramble, running up to grab their tunics and pull them on, a sight which made Asayaga burst into laughter since the short jackets barely covered their backsides. Gregory, grinning, took his time, waving casually to the girls. The Tsurani nodded politely, but made no attempt to hide their nakedness.

  Wolfgar urged his mount forward and rode up to his daughters, but it was obvious within seconds that whatever his objections the women were going into the sauna.

  ‘If it wasn’t his daughters going in there,’ Asayaga ventured, ‘I dare say that old man would go in as well, and it wouldn’t be so he could get clean.’

  Dennis actually smiled.

  ‘Well, Hartraft,’ Asayaga asked, ‘are you going in?’

  ‘What? Now?’ He looked over at Alyssa who was sitting on the steps, pulling off her boots.

  ‘Yes, now. Back home men and women bathe together all the time.’

  ‘I don’t know. These are respectable girls, they’re my friend’s daughters.’

  ‘The others aren’t?’ Asayaga laughed at Dennis’s discomfort.

  ‘The women here have been doing this since we built the bath. They understand the customs.’

  ‘Still.’

  The serving-girls led the group in, Roxanne and Alyssa following, and as the door closed again Alyssa gave him that backward glance.

  ‘Well, if you aren’t, I am,’ Asayaga announced, and heading over to the rough-hewn platform in front of the sauna he casually started to disrobe.

  Dennis slowly walked over.

  ‘If I hear of anything going on in there–’ Wolfgar announced.

  ‘It won’t be your daughters,’ Asayaga replied. ‘I made my pledge. But as for the others, old man, think of all that you are missing.’

  Wolfgar grinned slyly. ‘Oh, you don’t know if I’ve missed it or not!’ Laughing, he reined his horse around and rode back into the stockade.

  Stripping naked, Asayaga hung up his tunic, trousers and foot-wrappings and leaned his bow and quiver against the log wall. Even as he did so he had a sudden sharp memory of home, of the bath-house in his village, a beautiful place for the baths were the centre of any town and as such a place of pride for the villagers. It was built of the best stone, fine grained marble offset with lovely blue tiles, with hot and cold baths, hot-air rooms and steam, then afterwards you could lounge on the deck overlooking the sea and sip warm tea. His father’s estate had large bathing tubs, of course, but as a boy Asayaga had preferred bathing in the village. Men and women might bathe without modesty, but a adolescent boy was an adolescent boy, he remembered with mild amusement. He had met his first lover at the bath, a girl who regarded him boldly, even though he was the son of a noble.

  He looked around, aware again of just how alien this world was: the forest, snow-capped mountains; the marble and tiles replaced by logs with the bark still on them, the cracks between them chinked with dried mud and straw.

  And yet, if given a choice at this moment, he wondered if he could return. In spite of all that he knew would transpire in the days ahead, at this moment he felt completely free. The Great Game, at least for now, was far away. Granted there was still his lieutenant Sugama to contend with, but ever since their arrival in Wolfgar’s valley, Sugama had been relatively quiet, his embarrassment on the first night’s feast having silenced him. There was no commander above him, no one from another clan manoeuvring to get him killed or humiliated. He was free.

  He looked over at Dennis who was slowly, and none too eagerly, removing his jacket to reveal a sweat-stained undershirt that was ragged and grey with filth. Yes, Hartraft was the enemy, and in the ways of war and killing with stealth he was indeed frightful and unrelenting. But he was also straightforward and without guile in his dealings. He would find the Great Game inconceivable. There was no hidden meaning within meanings, no subtlety within him; if he planned to kill someone he said so, then did it. He did it remorselessly, and without feeling, but he did it while looking his opponent in the eye.

  As Dennis pulled off his shirt Asayaga was surprised by the scars that laced Hartraft’s slender frame. A pink knot just below his left collarbone, from either an arrow or a rapier wound looked barely healed. As he pulled off his trousers Asayaga could see where his left calf had been sliced nearly in half, most likely a blow from someone down on the ground, and there was another wound on the thigh, a bolt apparently having gone clear through his leg.

  ‘You’ve been cut up as well,’ Dennis said, as if reading Asayaga’s thoughts, and pointed to the white knot of a scar on the Tsurani’s chest.

  Asayaga nodded. ‘An arrow at the Battle of Walinor. Went clean through me,’ and he half-turned to show the exit wound.

  ‘Better when they do, digging an arrow out of the chest, it usually kills a man. You’re lucky to have survived it.’

  ‘We have some good healers, better than the priest even.’

  ‘Corwin? He’s all right, or at least I think he is.’

  Asayaga sensed something. ‘You think he is?’

  ‘Nothing, at least not for now.’

  Asayaga nodded. From inside the bath-house laughter echoed.

  ‘Ready for this, Hartraft?’

  Dennis seemed unsure of himself and Asayaga felt a momentary pleasure in that. It was good to see the legendary Hartraft off balance, even if it was over nothing more than walking naked into a steamy room with women present.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he offered finally. ‘The custom when women are present is for everyone to keep a small towel on for modesty. You’ll find them inside the door. So let’s go.’

  Leading the way, Asayaga stepped inside and then broke into a grin. His men had constructed this bath-house, and had introduced the locals to the custom…but they had obviously not instructed anyone on the finer points of etiquette.

  This should be interesting, he thought with a grin as he found a bench close to the steaming rocks then settled back to watch Hartraft’s reaction. It was obvious, the moment the Kingdom soldier came through the door and reached for the small towel that wasn’t there that Dennis would have been far more comfortable in the middle of a battle.

  Sitting back, all Asayaga could do was to shake his head in amusement. He motioned to a corner where towels and clothes had been piled, and Hartraft hurriedly grabbed one and covered himself.

  Dennis’s discomfort had allowed the Tsurani Force Commander a momentary distraction. Now as he settled down to bathe himself, Asayaga had to fight to maintain his composure. Alyssa sat back in the nearest tub, her arms resting on the sides of the wooden tub, regarding
Asayaga with a clear gaze and a slight smile on her lips. Struggling to remember his pledge, he used a bucket and tepid water to soap up and clean himself off.

  To Dennis, Asayaga said, ‘It is easier when someone else scrubs your back. I will show you.’ He made Dennis turn around, and he rubbed at the man’s back, appalled at the dirt that was washed away. When he was done, he handed Dennis a clean cloth. Dennis returned the courtesy, though Asayaga thought Dennis’s prior experience in giving a bath must have been to his favourite hound or a horse. Still, Tsurani impassivity prevented complaint.

  When they were both clean, Asayaga said, ‘It is best to enter the water quickly. It will seem hotter than it is, because we have been cold so long.’

  With that, he dropped his towel, and boldly climbed into the tub to settle in with a deep sigh of contentment opposite Alyssa. He had seen naked women many times before, and the lure of a woman had not struck him with such force since he had been a very young man. Her breasts were neither small nor large, but rather they seemed in balance for her size, and he had a great deal of trouble not staring at them.

  He was saved from disgracing himself when Dennis entered the water. Then, with a yelp like a scalded dog, he leapt out of the tub. ‘Are you mad? That water’s near to boiling!’

  Roxanne looked at Dennis with open amusement. ‘Yes, hero. We are all being finely boiled.’

  Alyssa laughed. ‘You’re too hard on the man, sister.’

  ‘Oh, I like a hard man, well enough, but I don’t think our captain is quite what I had in mind.’ She stared openly at Dennis’s crotch while her sister covered her mouth and tried to hide her laughter.

  Dennis’s pride was injured. He realized that if these two girls and the other women of the compound could endure the heat, so could he. He ignored Roxanne’s barb and moved to the edge of the tub. With jaws clenched he stepped back into the tub and for a moment it seemed he would leap out again. Beads of perspiration appeared on his brow, then ran down his face as he sat back next to the Tsurani.

  He felt tense at first, but as the minutes passed he seemed to gradually relax, stretching his legs out, and letting the heat sink into his bones. The two sisters had their heads together, whispering, and Asayaga seemed to be looking everywhere in the room except at Alyssa. Dennis let his mind wander and after a moment found himself startled by the rattle of metal. He looked around in surprise to find one of Asayaga’s men loading red-hot stones into a basket. He watched as the soldier pulled out a basket on a chain, then lowered the fresh one in, the red rocks filling the room with yet more steam.

  ‘This strikes me as a bit strange,’ Dennis finally said, ‘but it’s not…unpleasant.’

  Asayaga laughed. ‘You barbarians.’

  ‘Us barbarians?’ There was a defensive note in his voice.

  ‘Please, Hartraft. We have a custom in steam-houses.’

  ‘Like the towels for modesty?’ Dennis whispered pointedly.

  Asayaga could see just the slightest flicker of a grin. ‘Well, I think my men forgot about that. But as I was saying, the custom is that all arguments must be left at the door of the baths. Even the bitterest of foes will swim in the same pool and breathe the same steam and be allowed to do so in peace.’

  Dennis leaned back and closed his eyes, breathing deeply.

  ‘A good custom,’ he whispered at last and Asayaga smiled.

  ‘Tell me, Hartraft,’ said Roxanne. ‘Have you anyone waiting for you back at your camp?’

  Dennis’s eyes narrowed and he said bitterly, ‘No.’

  Roxanne studied his face and appeared on the verge of saying something. Her mouth turned up at the corner in a slight smirk he had seen before in advance of a caustic remark, but as it appeared she was about to speak, she sat back, remaining silent. She continued to stare at him for another minute, then softly she said, ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’

  Dennis didn’t know what to say. He stared back at her, their eyes locking for a moment. Something about this woman irritates me, he thought, and in an attempt to put aside that irritation, he sank back against the side of the tub and closed his eyes.

  Against every expectation, Dennis discovered after a few minutes of sitting there with his eyes closed that he was enjoying the hot soak. Relaxing further, he realized with a start some time later he had dozed off.

  The girls had departed and Asayaga said, ‘Are you rested?’

  Dennis wiped his hand over his face and said, ‘As it stands, yes.’ He seemed surprised.

  ‘See, there are things you can learn from us, Hartraft.’

  Dennis stood up and grabbed a towel. After the hot water, the room felt chilled. ‘You do this a lot?’

  ‘Every chance I get,’ said Asayaga, as he also dried himself off.

  The last two Tsurani soldiers were leaving and as Dennis followed, he said, ‘I think I might like to try this again.’

  Outside, they dressed quickly, for if the hot bath-house had felt chilled, the freezing snow was brutal to Dennis. As he donned his tunic he said, ‘What’s that smell?’

  Asayaga laughed. ‘That’s the stink you carried around with you. Now that you’re clean, you notice it.’

  Dennis stopped putting on his tunic. ‘I have another in my field kit,’ he said. Refusing to acknowledge his discomfort at being bare-chested, he said, ‘I guess I should have these washed.’

  Asayaga nodded. ‘You’ll find your men take ill less often if they keep clean. I do not know why this is so, but it is.’

  As he moved away from the bath-house, Dennis saw four Tsurani erecting poles in the compound, each forming the corner of a square. Others were bringing wood and piling it in the centre of the square. He glanced at Asayaga.

  ‘The rite of Atonement is tonight.’

  As if that explained it, thought Dennis, now anxious to put on his clean tunic. He hurried to the building where he housed with Sergeant Barry and a half dozen other men, and found his kit bag. He pulled a tunic out and noticed with disappointment that it was barely cleaner than the one he wore, but he put it on anyway, and decided he would ask one of the women to wash his remaining clothing in the morning.

  He thought back with some bitterness to his childhood, for clean clothing had always been provided. And despite what Asayaga said, his family bathed every week during the winter, more often in the hot months. To himself he admitted that years in the field had made him a coarse and dirty man.

  Outside, he heard the sound of chanting and realized it must be the Tsurani. He decided to go and sort out his clothing now, rather than watch this rite.

  Tinuva watched with interest as the Tsurani first built a small fire and then lined up for their ceremony. Asayaga, followed by Sugama and the other Tsurani were formed up in a line, weapons conspicuously absent. They watched the sun lower in the west, and chanted softly. When at last the sun was behind the western mountains, Asayaga moved forward to the first pole, which Tinuva noted was the easternmost, bowed his head, and said something softly. He moved to the northern pole and repeated the gestures. The western and southern poles followed; then he paused before the fire. He held out his hand and let a piece of material fall into the flames. He bowed once more then came to stand next to Tinuva.

  Without taking his eyes off the ceremony, Tinuva asked, ‘What is it you ask your god?’

  Asayaga said, ‘We ask Hilio, who judges men in life, to forgive us our shortcomings. Each man will repeat the request, at each of the poles, representing the four directions, for no man knows where Hilio may be. It is hoped that when we are free of this mortal life, Hilio will intercede with Silbi, She who is Death, to look upon us with mercy. We also ask Hilio to give us the strength to forgive those who have wronged us in the past year, to let others make atonement to us.’

  Tinuva said nothing for a while, then: ‘A friend once said no mortal being is without flaw.’

  Asayaga said, ‘This is true. And there is wisdom in knowing this. It will be a quiet night, for meditation and fasting. No ma
n may touch food or wine until the sun sets tomorrow night.’

  Tinuva said, ‘A feast?’

  Asayaga nodded. ‘Always.’

  ‘Then come hunting with me after your Day of Atonement, Asayaga.’

  ‘I went hunting with Hartraft today.’

  ‘So I have been told.’ With a slight smile, Tinuva said, ‘I shall be a far more patient teacher, and I will show you things even Dennis doesn’t know.’

  Asayaga allowed himself a rare smile. ‘It would be good to know some things Dennis doesn’t know.’

  The elf returned the smile, briefly then leaned back against the support post and watched the rest of the ceremony.

  A few minutes later Alwin Barry called for parade, and the Kingdom soldiers fell into formation. There was little military ceremony associated with the Marauders, but while in camp, Dennis insisted on morning muster and evening parade in order to keep some pretence of military discipline among the men.

  Asayaga had answered by having his men join the parade every night and held a separate muster every morning. As the ceremony ended, the last of his men hurried to their positions under the watchful eye of Strike Leader Tasemu.

  Barry glanced at his opposite number, and the two men began inspecting their respective commands. Asayaga said to Tinuva, ‘Where is Hartraft? He has never missed a parade.’

  He got his answer when Dennis came striding out of his quarters, his arms heavy with clothing, marching purposefully towards the washing hut. Both the Tsurani and Tinuva stood in stunned silence, then as the Captain of the Marauders vanished from sight, both broke out in open laughter.

  FOURTEEN Betrayal

  Dawn was breaking.

  ‘Form ranks!’

  Dennis passed the order as he always did, his voice almost soft, disdainful of the parade ground bellowing typical of too many officers serving in the Kingdom armies. The last of his men came out of the long hall, slinging on their equipment. Tsurani soldiers mingled amongst them, heading to the opposite side of the narrow street to fall into ranks as well, Strike Leader Tasemu, like Dennis, passing the order in a calm even voice.