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The Gabomite scoffed. "I could have killed you both from the time you gathered wood for the fire, had I wanted your lives."


Javo, sword in hand but still seated, made a pushing, restraining gesture at Krag. "Unless my eyes fail me, we've seen this man before."


"The sorcerer?" Krag asked.


The Gabomite bowed, smirking. "You are welcome. I am Turgar,"


"You were out there when we gathered wood?" Krag asked, doubtfully. That had been some time ago, when the blue sun was hidden behind the last, stubborn clouds.


Turgar nodded, laughing. "A Bruk Islander who fears the sea!" He turned to Javo. "And a Cemarite knight. When the Order of Lancers conduct their inquiry, do you truly imagine General Tral will agree with your version of who betrayed whom?"


Ashen-faced, Javo said, "I suppose not."


With this information, Turgar proved he had been listening long enough to hear them tell each other their stories.


"Only a thief could come so close without us hearing," Krag blustered.


"Nay," Turgar replied, turning to his pony. "A hunter." He untied the stag and dropped it, with a heavy thud, near the fire. "The two of you know how to kill men standing shield-to-shield. You know nothing of stalking game...nor cooking it, I warrant."


They stared at the dead stag.


"How long did you plan to travel without meat?" Turgar asked.


Slowly, Krag lowered his axe and sat back down.


"I am a Lancer," Javo said. "The Order will believe my word over Tral's."


Turgar shrugged. "Peradventure. But Tral can compel hundreds of witnesses from his army to swear it was you who broke the covenant. Thousands, if he chooses."


Javo dropped the whetstone and stood, wielding the sword as if he would violently hack into something at any moment. He paced. "The Order will know they are all lying!"


Turgar shrugged again.


"Sir Javo," Krag asked, softly, "what would the Order do if, may your gods forbid it, they believe the lie?"


"If they decide I have broken the creed, and my oath of honor," Javo said, through gritted teeth, "they will excommunicate me, at the least. They might also issue a death sentence, which other Lancers will hurry to carry out--to redeem the reputation of the Order."


"It strikes me," Turgar said, "a hard way to learn whether your fellow Lancers are as honorable as you."


Krag nodded. "If they would value the word of a power-mad schemer over the word of a sworn brother."


"Why did you intervene back at the defile?" Javo asked.


Turgar drew a knife, squatted, and began to gut the animal. "I don't like sorcerers. Or treachery. Or Dijol, for that matter."


"We are indebted to you," Javo said, the anger of his predicament forcing his words out so harshly as to not sound as sincere as he actually was.


"Then share with me your drink, your bread and cheese," Turgar replied. "Take some of my meat for yourselves. And consider my proposal."


"What do you propose?" Krag asked, suspiciously.


"Partnership."


The green skin under the white fur on Krag's face wrinkled up.

"Partnership? In what?"

"There are many endeavors open to men of our talents," Turgar said. "Many of the smaller trade caravans would pay handsomely for a vanguard."


Javo quit pacing. "You would have us seek riches?"


"You seek glory, Sir Javo. But glory doesn't feed you. It doesn't feed your warhorse, or exchange for a stable and a warm room and bath in the winter. It might bring a wench to your side for a fleeting moment, but it won't pay for repairs to your armor. Yes: I seek riches--and more than what is required to merely survive--for some day I shall be too old to hunt or fight."


"I'll take riches over glory," Krag agreed. "It takes riches to drink and to spoil maidens."


"You've been a champion for kings," Turgar told Javo. "Your skill in single combat has spared their armies untold agonies and slaughter. But villages sometimes settle disputes by single combat. Clans settle feuds."


"Merchants hire bodyguards," Krag added, enthusiastically. "Chieftains pay bounties for murderers, abductors and thieves."


"Have you ever waxed fearful over using the privy," Turgar asked, "because you are most vulnerable to attack then, and have nobody you can trust to guard your back?"


Krag and Javo both nodded.


"All three of us are outlaws in Dijol now," Turgar continued. "And Dijol might very well own the land we're standing on in a matter of days. I am also an outlaw in Gabom. Even in realms we are not outlawed in, there will be those who choose to hunt us for bounty."


"You warrant we can all trust each other?" Krag mused, thoughtful.


Turgar answered the question with a question. "Know you someone you trust more?"


Javo stroked his chin, studying Krag. "You could have let the first serpent have me, to end the fight in your favor. You showed honor."


"And Turgar saved our skins," Krag admitted, with a grudging tone, "when he could have just watched us die, then collected his pay."


"These are the things I've pondered as I followed you and listened to your conversations," Turgar said. "We are warriors, we three. Formidable in battle. And yet we fight with honor. I for one, have nothing to divert my loyalty: I have no family; no clan; no tribe; no country and no king."


Javo grinned ruefully. "I'm a Cemarite by birth. I have no king but the great Aod. As to other loyalties...I am still honor-bound to help and defend my brother Lancers."


"I find no threat in that," Turgar said. "And I hope they remain as loyal to you as you are to them. But should they take Tral's word over yours, for any reason, would you rather face them alone or with warriors who will not believe lies about you?"


"We hardly know each other," Javo said. "It would be foolish to make a blood-pact without certainty."


Turgar shrugged. "So, for now, we just travel together, and seek what treasure we may earn honestly. If, after a time, any one of us has reason not to trust another, he is free to go his own way alone."


"I have no king," Krag said. With an expression of anger mixed with shame, he added, "Sailors of Bruk are infamous for their debauchery. They are pirates, thieves, rapists and liars. I have no loyalty to such men, and often wish I could pretend to be of some other race. If the two of you will trust in my honor despite that, I will trust in yours."


After several moments of silence, Javo said, "Done."


"Done," Krag said.


"Done," Turgar said, grinning. "And I further propose that our first mission should be to meet with the Order of Lancers, so we may testify as to what happened at the pass, before Tral and his soldiers begin poisoning their ears."


"Agreed," Krag said.


"My thanks to both of you," Javo said. "After that, we should find the exiled king of Fawlik, and collect Krag's reward."


"Very well," Turgar said. Now pay attention, you two, and I'll show you what to do with the parts of this animal."


Glory Doesn't Feed You image number 2
The Bloodstained Defile series cover
Glory Doesn't Feed You episode cover
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The Bloodstained Defile

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Henry Brown
During the bloody wars of an alien world's dark ages, loyalty, integrity and friendship are rare commodities. Why would anyone guess they could be found in the hearts of mercenaries? Sir Javo left his native Cemar to join the Order of the Black Lancers, and has built a reputation as a champion in single combat. He has never met his match; but that is about to change. Krag the Wrecker has been promised treasure, a horse, and a lady-in-waiting if his suicide mission succeeds. "Victory or death" are acceptable terms, for a giant barbarian raised to worship Death. Turgar was once a troop chief in the nomadic armies of Gabom, until framed for a capital crime. Now he hires out his bow to the highest bidder. This job may convince him to re-think his pragmatism. A great storm, an epic battle, and three dangerous warriors...all on a collision course for a narrow mountain pass that is already a bloodstained defile.
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