Death's Knight 6

 

Chapter 6

 

“I can’t of course go off to the Ghostlands until the war is over,” said Kaz, to Pythas when they reported.

“Incorrect,” said Pythas. “Your questing is as much a part of the war as fighting Selenite soldiery.  You need to set off and collect what you can. You want that curse falling on you on the winter solstice when the Trickster feels he has most power.”

“If travelling in time, does it matter when I go so long as I arrive at the right time?” said Kaz.

“Yes, it does, actually,” said Pythas. “I had a lecture from Lady Fate, who bent my ear about keeping you in one piece when under pressure. You need to go on the winter solstice, and if that means gathering things or people together for that, then the longer allowed for that, the better. And I want you sorting that out as soon as possible. Knowing that you have to go there to seek knowledge fills in why you have to go somewhere is somewhat comforting if noisy.”

“She likes her chimes,” said Kaz.  “I need to choose who will go with me.  Harkon, of course, and Protasion, because he can read Old High Sunscript.  Pythas, why does Protasion have a surname, and Chrysandion, Erytheon, and Xanthos only have virtue names? I’d have thought that anyone as hidebound as the Solosi and Pollonians would want to promote those of the aristocracy, and most of the local aristocracy join them.”

“Oh, they do have established surnames,” said Pythas. “It’s tradition in the cult of Solos and Pollonis to take a virtue name on initiation which may change when reaching glyph rank but usually stays the same; it’s supposed to allow members to rise through virtue not as a result of famous names.  As it happens, they are related to Protasion; his father, Aristides Chrysandos is first cousin to Chrysandion and Erytheon, their fathers, Protasion and Chryxanthion are brothers.  I have some family ties; my surname is Hyperios, but like Protasion, I made other choices. Xanthos is my cousin, though his surname is Phaodoros.”

“I imagine everyone is related to some degree?” asked Harkon.

“Yes, that’s true,” said Pythas. “We don’t trouble with either surnames or virtue names under Alethos, save some taken by the very young who want to sound bigger. It’s discouraged, unless there are two people who share a name.  I had a young cousin who was named the family name of Pythas who joined us for a while. I was already Pythas, but he wanted to be known as Pythas Mighty-Sword.  I’m afraid his fellows did not take that well, and he was known as Pythas Pork-Sword, Pythas Mini-Sword, Baby-face Pythas, and Pi-Face. I stayed out of it; but he still blamed me, and called for three blows of anger. I accepted for family harmony, but he missed every single one. He decamped to the Pollosians, where he tried to be Pythas Mighty-Spear, and got some of the same sort of derogatory misnomers. He went into university in the end and boasted of his martial training until he tried to molest a female student, who threw him down the stairs.”

“Embarrassing sort of cousin,” said Kaz.

Pythas shrugged.

“He’s a good bad example,” he said.

“It’s the Ombrosi who come up with the weirdest of virtue names,” rumbled Harkon. “I’ve heard of Corvonos Before-Whom-Even-Lycos-Trembles, though I did hear he thought Lycos would tremble less if Corvonos was eaten, and left his companions in a hurry when they encountered Lycoids.”

“Aryaton Thunder-Bringer, Aiella Storm-Walker, Morkos Who-Splits-The-Sky-With-Anger,” said Kaz. “They have no idea how much we laugh at them.”

“Which brings us no further in deciding who will go,” said Harkon

“I should think it ought to be the usual group,” said Kaz. “You, Protasion, Lelyn, Evgon, Kuros, Svargia and Rynn, and Vulk and Polia too. We might take a couple of trógling neophytes to see to the mules, as Orsida and Thanato seem to enjoy adventures.”

“And a contingent of Sunfolk,” said Pythas.

Kaz sniggered.

“Well, one thing I wager, we won’t have an extra member of the party playing down who he really is, the way Alethos pretended to be a simple initiate named Alathan,” she said. “Pollonis is probably too up himself to mingle with mortals.”

 

Alethos sniggered as he relayed his beloved’s words to Pollonis.

“And why would I want to mingle with mortals, anyway, cousin?” asked Pollonis. “I will keep my eye on them. It will suffice. I will chose a suitable champion.”

“I wouldn’t send Xanthos, if I was you,” said Alethos, dryly. “He insulted my Kaz, and she folded and ironed him without breaking out into a sweat. A true warrior, she can even use laundry cantrips offensively.”

“It’s improper,” sniffed Pollonis. “I’ll find someone.”

Alethos smiled.

 

The newcomer was a handsome, golden-haired young man, who rode into the temple yard, accompanied by four other men, in charge of as many pack ponies as well as their own mounts.

He greeted Kaz merrily.

“Thou art the Daykaz; thy coming has been long awaited and I live to serve, and place myself in thy hands.  My name is Phaedros, and I acknowledge an Alethosan affair by coming alone.”

Kaz looked pointedly at the four men with him.

“Your speech is accented; maybe if our language is strange to you, you have misunderstood? Around here, five people do not constitute ‘alone,’” she said.

“Eh? But I am alone. I have no honour guard, only a few servants, they are not cult warriors,” said Phaedros.

“Alethos’s bollocks! What on earth do you need servants for? What is Chrysandion about insulting us by sending someone so feeble?” exploded Kaz.

“Why, Mistress Daykaz, thou art wounding in such speech, and it likes me not,” said Phaedros. “In what way can it be that you consider me feeble, when  hast not seen me spar? I am equal to any in feats of arms and superior to most.”

“Oh, he is going to be a bundle of fun,” Rynn muttered to Evgon.

“I told you that you wouldn’t want to be with the Sun Fondlers, you have to be born in the cult of Solos to be permitted to worship him not Pollonis, and the upper crust talk like that. Protasion lost the speech very quickly,” Evgon replied.

“You might well be a competent warrior, and still be feeble if you need four nursemaids to see to your comforts,” said Kaz. “What in Hell do you expect servants to do?”

“Oh, they see to my horse, cook my meals, set up my tent, mend my clothes and so-on,” said Phaedros. “Surely you have your own servants to do such things?”

“What a baby!” burst out Lelyn, in scorn. “What, do they also dig the hole for you to shit in, and wipe your bottom afterwards?”

“Of course,” said Phaedros.

Harkon cleared his throat.

“We are not used to dealing with precious man-children here,” he said. “This is a serious mission, you know, not a children’s walking party. And walking you will be; we go places horses cannot go, and we cannot afford time to hunt to feed extraneous civilians.  We take our turns in cooking, in standing guard, in washing dishes, in collecting wood for the cookfire and all the other camp chores. Rynn, go and purchase another mule, for we’ll need to take some of Phaedros’s kit along. I’ll go through what you have there and tell you what you may bring, but I’m not going to be weighed down by unnecessary baggage and that includes the civilians. Unless one is an expert hunter or forager, or tracker?”

“Er… no?” said Phaedros. “They are just body servants. One is my cook, one my groom, the others shave me, bathe me, and wait on me. My mother has always insisted I need servants for my status. Do you know who I am?”

Kaz patted him kindly on the arm.

“You’re the poor sap who means well, and who has been wished on us by the Pollonisi, who want to get rid of you and are laughing up their sleeves at using you to sabotage the mission because they resent having a trógling as the Daykaz and they want to see me fall, failing to realise that the key to the power of the Trickster comes from the souls of my people who are stolen by him,” she said. “But we will have the last laugh, and enable you to do so too, because we’ll teach you the ropes, and you will soon learn. Don’t worry; we all started out spoiling porridge, and eating lumps of grass and earth because we did not know how to clean plates properly. Eating your own mistakes is a marvellous teacher.  You will be able to show those fools a thing or two when you return.”

“Er… thank you,” said Phaedros, taken aback. “I… do you mean they have been laughing at me covertly because my mother was insistent that I be aware of my status?”

“More than likely,” said Kaz. “Here, we will laugh to your face and make it kindly teasing to help you to learn. Honestly! It is not fair on you not to tell you what you need to learn, it is wrong to trammel anyone and refuse them education, be it for a mistaken idea of your consequence, or for a slave. I suggest we don’t even ask why people think you important and treat you as a comrade who needs a little help I hope your boots fit well.”

“Yes, they have been made to measure,” said Phaedros.

“Good; you should not get too many blisters walking, then.”

 

“That’s my son your chosen is abusing! Why should I not strike all that group blind?” demanded Pollonis, petulantly.

“Because you aren’t unfair, cousin?” said Alethos. “My Chosen and her companions do him a favour. Your people have treated him as royalty and as such have failed to address his needs.  I am amazed he is as sunny-natured as he is.”

“His governess made him mind her,” said Pollonis.

“Not, apparently, his mother,” said Alethos. “I wonder how good he really is at martial endeavour? I fancy his mother is a fool. Priestess, no martial training?”

“She is the daughter of one of my seers,” snapped Pollonis. “Her father foresaw that her child would bring forth the Daykaz.  Everyone assumed he would be the sire of the Daykaz and he has been raised in seclusion. Your Beloved’s revelation was a shock to all.  Now we are confused about how he could bring forth the Daykaz as she is known already.”

“I would have thought it was blindingly obvious,” said Alethos, sarcastically. “She needs the ritual and the tie to time through your father to go to where and when she must be to do what she must do, and it is his action in facilitating that time shift which will bring forth the Daykaz and permit her to truly become the Dawning.”

“Oh!” said Pollonis.

Alethos hid a smirk at the concept of any one of Kaz’s friends patting him kindly on the back and telling him to leave thinking to those who had the equipment for it. The elder gods could be very limited. As he himself had been.

“Well, he will have help,” said Alethos.

“Yes; and though he has natural talent, you are correct; his tutors have oft times permitted him to win.”

“His lessons will be rough but kindly,” said Alethos.

 

Phaedros was having a lesson in what was considered essential, and what was not. He was aghast to have most of what he considered necessary for his well-being to be discarded. His servants made little sounds of distress as Harkon ruthlessly searched out two spare sets of undergarments, a plain complete change of clothes and extra cloak, and discarded everything else from his chests of clothing.  He was provided with another tunic and a pair of trews from the Alethosan poor bag, which were hard-wearing.

“Easier for pushing through brambles and the like,” said Harkon. Phaedros’s tent was discarded, being a thing of great gaudiness, with poles, and a folding bed to go in it.

“But what will his mightiness sleep on?” wailed one of the servants.

“The rest of us use the ground,” said Harkon. “A couple of tarpaulins and a blanket serve well enough. He will want his own trail kettles as well, his own tinware plate and what in the name of all the gods is this rubbish?”

This rubbish was a full dinner set of fine porcelain tableware.

“I’ll kit him out,” said Lelyn. “Bedroll, dinner roll, trail rations. Don’t tell me one of those hampers is full of fine food and wine?”

“But yes, lady, of course,” said the servant. “What else is he to eat?”

“Porridge, onion, and any meat we catch,” said Lelyn. “Poor little rich boy! Rynn, you’re the junior, help our poor Phaedros out, but don’t let him bamboozle you into doing things for him. Teach him how to use a shovel, but make him dig his own holes; we’ve all learned.”

“You can keep your fine paper wipes while you learn other things,” said Harkon. “We do start out with some, but I’ll show you which leaves can be used.”

“You can use leaves?” said Phaedros.

“You’ll tell me next you didn’t know that herbs for eating grow wild,” said Harkon.

“I didn’t know,” said Phaedros, meekly.

“Solos and Zea provide all,” said Harkon. “And we give them thanks daily for it.”