The Chronicles of Hvad Ch. 01

I was thoroughly miserable. Heads down, we hunched under our cloaks and sheepskins. There was some grumbling, of course, and some muttering about finding shelter, but nothing serious. The horses couldn't have liked it any better than we did, but they plodded along with fewer complaints.

Then the storm took on a malevolent aspect. It teased us, seemed to relent, or to stop altogether, only to return full force a moment later. There was something unnatural about it, as though the elements were punishing us.

Gosdan called a halt, which led directly to the third event.

- "We'll rest here!" shouted Gosdan. "Look to your horses! Try to get a fire started!"

We were skirting the edge of the great forest, so it was a simple matter to bring the horses under the partial shelter of overhanging branches. Finding dry wood would not be so easy, unless the men went further in. Happily, that would not be a task for me.

I had just gotten the saddle and sodden blanket off Borna's horse, and was turning to start on my own. Khoren, likewise, was seeing to Antras' horse, trying to rub the animal down with a soaking wet blanket.

I can't say for sure who started it. But it looked to me like Borna deliberately shook out his cloak in Antras' direction, spraying him with a few drops of water. That was enough to set Antras off, and he went for Borna. Next thing I knew, fists and elbows were flying.

Antras was bigger, and heavier. He tried to grapple, to pull his brother down. Borna made him pay, with an elbow to the mouth.

- "ENOUGH!" roared Gosdan.

That didn't stop them. Antras got in a solid punch to the ribs, and Borna swung at his brother's head, but missed.

- "BORNA!" yelled their father. "ANTRAS!"

Mihran grabbed hold of Borna's shoulder, pulling him back. He put his other hand on Antras' chest, and pushed him back a step. This time, the brawling brothers subsided. They would not carry on - not with the Hospodar's Hand between them.

You may be wondering why I didn't intervene, or go to my Lord's assistance. Well, for one thing, he wouldn't have thanked me for it. Borna liked to fight his own battles. Unless weapons were drawn - that would have been different.

If I had stepped in, that would have brought Khoren, too - and that evil bastard would have liked nothing better. Khoren wouldn't have dared to attack Borna; he would've gone straight for me. Or he could have come at me from behind.

Our Hospodar wisely gave his sons a few moments to cool down. They glared at each other, of course. But this particular skirmish was over. For now.

Borna was still angry, but not at me. He submitted to a quick examination, as I checked to see what damage his brother had done.

- "You'll have a bruise on your ribs." I told him. "And a cut over your eyebrow. Lucky, this time."

- "Hmm."

- "Have you considered where we're going to go?" I asked Borna.

- "What?" He finally looked at me. "What are you talking about, now?"

- "Where we're going to go. Your father can't live forever. And on the day your brother becomes Hospodar ..."

- "Hmm." he grunted again. We had had this conversation before.

- "It could go very badly for us." I said.

- "Maybe." he admitted.

- "You don't seem very concerned - for a man who may be about to get married."

- "Maybe." he said. "No point in worrying about maybes I can't change." Then he winked at me. "Yet."

We did get a large fire built, on the edge of the wood, but the rain simply didn't let up. Nobody got dry. And I doubt if anyone slept very well.

It wasn't just the fact that we were soaked through. We may live on the edge of the forest, but no man feels completely safe inside it, especially at night. There are wild animals, and wild men, and many things in between. Many a brave man has gone into the woods at night, and they haven't always come back.

We were a wet, tired, and grumpy company the next morning. Even the horses weren't in the mood to be saddled again. I'm not the most superstitious person around, but the negative omens were beginning to add up.

***

Asrava's steading was not so large as ours. They had a roughly circular palisade of logs, just as we did. There were twenty or twenty-five houses and smaller buildings within, dominated by the Hospodar's great hall. Outside the steading, the fields were dotted with more houses. My guess was that 120 to 150 people lived inside the wall, and a similar number outside.

Asrava himself waited at the gate. He stepped forward and spread his arms in welcome. He wore a voluminous grey cloak, which had seen better days, but it was pinned with a very fine gold broach. The Hospodar looked older than I expected. He had a luxurious, foot-long beard, but his long hair was a bit scraggly, and thin on top.

Gosdan dismounted first, and the two men embraced formally.

- "My son - Mushtal." said Asrava.

I had never seen Asrava before, but his son I recognized. About a year ago, Mushtal and some companions had been trying to steal some of our sheep when we caught them at it. They fled, rather than stay to debate the matter with us.

Mushtal was an ill-favoured lout, only in his early twenties, but already prematurely bald. He always had the most curious expression on his face - as if he wasn't quite sure what was going on, and was waiting for someone to explain it to him.

- "My boys!" shouted Gosdan. His sons dismounted, and were presented to our host. Then all of the Hands were named, including me. When Gosdan finally called my name, I felt Asrava's eyes upon me, calculating, as if weighing me. I don't think he was very impressed.

Our horses were led away, to be watered and fed. Some of our men, including Dirayr, would be there, to rub them down and see that they were well looked after.

Asrava's great hall was indeed smaller than our own. But it was warm, and smoky, and smelled appealingly of roasting meat. The other powerful odours were all too familiar: wet clothing, warm bodies, wood smoke and stale beer.

Gosdan and his sons were escorted to the Hospodar's high table. Asrava sat them at his right, and put Mushtal to his left. Mihran, Khoren and I were seated on stools behind them, with the other Hands similarly placed, off to our left.

- "A toast!" cried Asrava. "A toast! Fill your cups!"

Servants came forward to pour. Mead and ale, for the most part - but at the high table, Asrava flourished a bottle of Izumyrian wine. It was rare, in Yeseriya, and no doubt very expensive. "Saved it for a special occasion!" he shouted.

"To our guests! And to our agreement!"

I had a sip of ale, then placed the cup beneath my stool. I had seen Mihran do this before, so I took my cue from him. If this was not quite enemy territory, it certainly wasn't home ground. I wanted my wits about me - just in case. To my surprise, Khoren also followed Mihran's example.

More toasts followed: Gosdan to our host, Asrava to Gosdan's sons, and then one for Mushtal. Hvadi warriors may be fearsome fighters, but they are even more ferocious drinkers.

Once the assembled company had a few drinks under their belts, and cups were re-filled, Asrava proceeded to the dramatic presentation.

- "My daughter, Garine!"

She came up the back of the high table platform, to a resounding cheer. Garine had honey-coloured hair, and a ripe body. Her face was pretty, but vacuous, like her brother's. I wondered what kind of thoughts - if any - passed between those ears. She was attractive girl, but she obviously knew it. I swear, she was drinking in all of the attention.

- "My daughter, Noyemi!"

This girl had dark hair. She kept her head down. Modesty, I think, or perhaps shyness. She was plainer featured, her body more slender, almost boyish.

Asrava proposed a toast to his daughters, and then, finally, sat down, so that the serious drinking could begin. There was one more girl seated at the high table. Asrava was a widower, so this would be his concubine, Lulalme. I had heard that she was young, but Lulalme was a shy little doe, who looked younger than Asrava's daughters.

We have curious customs, in Hvad. It was considered acceptable for Asrava to include his concubine in the proceedings, but not to introduce her formally - that would have been a breach of good manners.

The feast that ensued followed a predictable pattern. Drinking, bragging, and talk. Then more drinking, and eating. When stomachs were full, Asrava suggested hearing the guslar. Teeth got up, grinning, and set himself on a stool at the corner of the high table.

He recited the tale of Mher and Dzeroun, brothers in arms. Together, the two friends slaughtered thousands of their enemies, stole a herd of cattle each, then went off to get drunk together. No doubt it was Gosdan who had suggested that Teeth perform that particular epic. It left all the warriors present with warm feelings - and a great thirst, because of course no one could fill their cup while the guslar was performing.

Between the food and the drink, Gosdan and Asrava had their heads together. I could hear very little of what they said, but occasionally, Asrava leaned back, and I could make out his words. Part of it I heard - the rest was lip-reading.

- "Which one do you want? The eldest is ready, neh? The little one can wait."

And later: "Your eldest is a good-looking boy." This he said deliberately loud enough for Antras to hear.

And later: "The younger one - he has the look of a starveling hawk."

Borna did behave himself. He drank every toast, but only moderately thereafter. Antras, of course, acted like the great boor he was. I swear, he scratched his balls, and leered at Garine.

Mihran sat like a statue, carved from stone. He was completely alert, but appeared quite impassive. Khoren openly ogled Asrava's daughters. For my part, I tried to imitate Mihran. But I couldn't help looking at the three girls.

Garine was a shameless flirt. She wore a fox-fur wrap about her shoulders, which she sensuously stroked with her fingers. She measured the men in the room - especially the ones she had not seen before. I suppose she sought confirmation, in our eyes, that she was indeed attractive, or even irresistible. It was unlikely, in my opinion, that Garine was still a virgin.

Her sister appeared shy. But Noyemi had keen eyes. They darted everywhere, flickering over the new faces, weighing, judging. At least, that was my impression. She glanced at me, once, while I was observing her. Our eyes met, briefly. She quickly looked away. I was still watching her, a few moments later, when she glanced my way again. She averted her eyes just as swiftly the second time.

Lulalme, their father's concubine, kept her head down the entire time. She wasn't exceptionally pretty, and avoided eye contact. After a short time, it was easy to forget that she was even there.

Mushtal drank heavily. He seemed uninterested in his father's conversation. Perhaps the fate of his sisters was of no concern to him, either. But he leaned back, from time to time, to make a coarse joke with his Hand. I couldn't hear them, but their harsh laughter gave away the type of jest.

I was uncomfortable. Not physically uncomfortable, but ... something was not quite right. From the moment Borna had chosen me as his Hand, I had dreamed of occasions like this, when I would be close to Hospodars and heroes. I would be privy to matters of great import, sharing in the reflected glory of the noblest men in Yeseriya, and their beautiful women.

Everything seemed more petty, more tawdry than I'd expected. Asrava looked like a cattle thief; it would be unwise to turn your back on him. His concubine appeared to be younger than his daughters. Mushtal was a boor, no better than Antras - and possibly worse. His sister Garine looked like she had already been to the woodshed more than once, and was prepared to go again with a handsome stranger at a moment's notice. I couldn't think of anything negative about the younger daughter, but the rest of her family made my skin crawl.

Even my own Hospodar was rapidly sinking in my estimation. Did he not see who and what these people were? Were his ambitions so all-important, that he would ally himself with the likes of Asrava? And did I dare to say any of this to Borna?

Then the two Hospodars stood up, together. Gosdan staggered a step, clearly having drunk more than was good for him. Asrava steadied him, and then shouted: "We have reached an agreement! My friends!"

The roar of conversation subsided a little, as drunken warriors gradually became aware that something was happening.

"My friends! Hospodar Gosdan and I have reached agreement!" There were a few cheers, though the majority waited for something more substantial.

"There will be an alliance between our two houses! A wedding!" Now the cheering broke out in earnest.

"My daughter!" Asrava gestured to Garine, the eldest. "Stand up, girl!" he shouted. A new cheer broke out, mainly from Asrava's druzhina. "My daughter Garine will marry Gosdan's son - Borna!"

I had not expected that last word. Clearly, neither had Antras. He was scowling furiously, and knocked over his cup. Gosdan leaned over, and began whispering - or shouting - in his ear. The only person who did not react was ... Borna.

I was stunned. Never, in my worst nightmares, had I imagined my Lord married to a woman like Garine. How could I even begin to pretend that I respected her?

- "A toast!" shouted Asrava. "To the happy couple!"

That led to a new round of toasts. The noise level in the hall rose again, back to a tumultuous roar. Gosdan persuaded Antras to re-fill his cup, and drink the toast. Borna drank to each one. But was I the only one who noticed that he wasn't smiling?

Eventually, Asrava sent his daughters and his concubine off to bed. The language was bound to get rougher. Sure enough, men began to shout advice to Borna. Some of it may have been well-meant; most of it was merely crude.

Gosdan and Asrava conferred some more, heads together, until finally our Hospodar rose and declared that he was ready for bed.

Just as in our steading, there were rooms at the back of the great hall, for the use of the Hospodar, his family, and their servants. There would be some doubling up, tonight, to clear a room for the use of Gosdan and his sons. Mihran, Khoren, and I would sleep in the doorway, while the rest of our men would find space on the floor of the hall.

- "A little something to keep you warm ..." said Asrava, as he waved his hand. A dark-eyed, dark-haired little minx stepped forward, and took hold of Gosdan's arm.

- "Let me show you to your furs, Lord." she purred.

- "I have not forgotten your sons, either." said Asrava.

Antras was presented with a saucy blonde wench, and there was also a tall, buxom lass for Borna.

"Sleep well, my friends." said Asrava. Was there a touch of slyness in the way he said that? I was uncomfortable, again.

It wasn't so much the idea of bed warmers - the colloquial expression for women given to honoured guests. It was more the way it was done. That, and two little details that caught my attention.

Antras' girl seemed as eager to get to it as he was, and they followed immediately on his father's heels. But the girl they had brought for Borna seemed to hesitate, just a little. She had her head down, so that I could not clearly see her features. She looked rather plain, compared to the other two.

But even with her head down, she was taller than Borna. That struck me as odd. Why give him a girl taller than he was? They could easily have put her with Antras, who was considerably bigger than his brother.

And while I considered this little oddity, I saw Mushtal's face. He wasn't leering - which I might have expected, from him. Instead, he was smirking. Was this some little private joke, at my lord's expense? Why play such a shabby little trick on your future brother-in-law? It made no sense.

Borna had noticed something, as well. He had stopped at the doorway, and was looking at the third girl. With her back to the firepit, and her head down, it was hard to see her face.

- "What's your name?" he asked, quietly.

She didn't look up. "Kanni, Lord." she mumbled.

- "Kanni?" repeated Borna. "Well, Kanni - come with me." And with that, he led her away from the room - and out of the great hall. I followed. Mihran pretended not to see us, but Khoren gave us a strange look.

Outside, it was quite dark. There were heavy grey clouds overhead, and the moon was still early in its first quarter.

Three of Asrava's warriors were sharing a drink, while a fourth pissed against the side of the great hall. They looked at us curiously.

- "Come, Kanni." said Borna.

He led us to the gate, and right out of the steading. I had no more idea than she did of what Borna was doing. But I had years of experience, following him without question. He led Kanni to the stream.

Every steading is built near a ready source of plentiful water. We had seen the stream as we approached earlier in the day. It was not so wide - a grown man could easily leap across. But the banks were high, and it looked to be several feet deep. Borna finally stopped at the edge of the water.

- "Kanni - will you let me see your face, now?" he said.

It was quite dark, as I have said, but our eyes had grown accustomed to it as we walked. And still the girl hesitated. Borna stepped up close, and put his hand under her chin.

From where I stood, I could finally see her face. Kanni was clearly older than us, by several years, at least. She could have been a handsome woman, but there was a haunted look in her eyes. That, and a dark red bruise just above her cheekbone, that would surely be purple tomorrow.

- "Who did this?" said Borna, softly.

The girl lowered her head, and shook it slowly, from side to side.

- "Who did this?" he whispered. When she still would not answer, he continued, speaking softly. "I will not make a scene, Kanni. You will not be punished. There is no need for you to fear me. I won't hurt you."

Then he took her gently by both shoulders. "Who did this?" he repeated.

- "Mushtal." she got out. "And his Hand. And another man." I did not have to see them - I could hear the tears in her voice.

- "What did they do?" asked Borna.

- "They ... they had me."

- "All three?"

- "Yes, Lord. They were ... rough." said Kanni.

- "When? When did this happen?"

- "This afternoon. Before you arrived, Lord."

I stopped breathing for a moment. Don't think for a moment that I didn't feel for Kanni. No one should be treated as she was. But tomorrow we would be leaving, and her suffering would continue. She was little better than a slave, in a household of cruel degenerates.

Instead, I was thinking of Borna. My Lord, and his welfare, were always at the forefront of my concerns. Now I remembered Mushtal's evil smirk. This was planned. And it wasn't a callous prank. It was a flagrant breach of the laws of hospitality - a deliberate insult. Who treats their future brother-in-law in such a way? Obviously, someone who thinks nothing of treating a woman in such a manner.

Kanni was the victim, of course. They had violated and abused her. But even worse, this was only a means to an end. Their real purpose was to deliver a calculated insult to my Lord.

- "Ljudevit - would you hold my cloak, please?" said Borna. "And my sword."

- "Lord?" I couldn't believe how calm he was.

- "Kanni and I are going to bathe." he said.

The girl hesitated. "Bathe?" she asked.

- "Yes. Wouldn't you like to be clean?" he answered.

- "They - they wouldn't let me. Before ..." she mumbled.

- "I know." he said. "But I'm asking, now. Won't you bathe with me? Help her, Ljudevit."

I took Borna's cloak and sword, and then stood beside them, so that I could hold their clothing. Kanni was hesitant, of course. But Borna was patient, and very gentle.