“Me? Anxious?” Brandark heard the huskiness in his own voice and cleared his throat. “Nonsense!” he said more strongly. “Everyone knows Horse Stealers are born to be hanged. What could have happened to you on a simple little job like this?”

He waved at the boat as Evark jumped onto the beach and stumped up to them. The halfling captain propped his hands on his hips and peered up at the two hradani, then shook his head.

“Hanged, is it? Well, he came near enough to it, I suppose. But what’s a man to do when an idiot with more sword than brain climbs over the side of his ship in the middle of the night?”

“Here, now! It’s hard enough when one of you is after calling me names!”

Evark ignored Bahzell and thrust out a hand to Brandark. “So, you’re the bard, are you?” he said gruffly.

“Ah, no.” Brandark grasped the proffered hand with a smile. “I’d like to be one, but I’ve been told I lack the voice for it.”

“Do you, now? Well, never mind. From what your friend tells me, the two of you managed to piss off half the Purple Lord army, and that’s recommendation enough to anyone who’s ever had to deal with ’em! Besides, Korthrala wouldn’t like me anymore if I left one of Scale Balancer’s lot to fend for himself, and if Tomanāk’s crazy enough to take on a hradani champion, who am I to argue with him?”

“Ah, the tongue of him!” Bahzell mourned, then laid a hand on the captain’s shoulder. “Brandark, be known to Evark of Marfang Island, master of the Wind Dancer , who’s after being kind enough to offer us a ride.”

“But I’ll not change my schedule for you, mind!” Evark said gruffly. “I’m bound straight to Belhadan with a cargo of Wakuo dates. They won’t keep long, so it’s to Belhadan you’ll go if you ship along with me. Aye, and you’ll pull your weight aboard, too!”

“Belhadan?” Brandark laughed. “D’you know, I suddenly have an absolutely overwhelming desire to see Belhadan. Where is it?”

“You’ll find out, my lad,” Evark assured him. Several more of his men swarmed ashore and began gathering up the hradani’s sparse gear, and the captain made a shooing gesture at the launch. “Get aboard, get aboard! Your friend’s been freezing his arse long enough-we’d best get him back to Wind Dancer and into some clothes before something he’ll miss freezes off!”

“Aye, I’ll be going along with that.” Bahzell grinned at Evark and slipped an arm around Brandark to help him hobble to the boat. “It’s a terrible temper he has for such a wee little fellow,” he told the Bloody Sword, “but he’s a head on his shoulders for all that.”

“And a good thing, too,” Evark snorted, chivvying his passengers across the beach. “Korthrala knows the pair of you need looking after if even half of what you’ve told me is true, longshanks! Damn me for a Purple Lord if I know which of you’s the bigger idiot-you, for getting yourself into this, or this other fathom of fish bait for following you!”

“Oh, it’s Bahzell, hands down,” Brandark assured him as the Horse Stealer half-lifted him over the gunwale and settled him on a thwart. One of Evark’s men handed him his balalaika with a grin, the other halflings scrambled back aboard, and Bahzell heaved the launch off the beach and crawled over the stem as they backed oars to slide away from the island.

The bonfire still burned, pale and smoky in the growing, golden light, and Brandark gazed back at it and shook his head again at the breakneck speed with which everything had changed. They were going to live after all.

“So, I’m the bigger idiot, am I?” Bahzell growled as the launch curtsied across the water. “And where would you be without me, hey?”

“Snug in bed in Navahk-and hating every minute of it,” Brandark said, and Evark snorted behind him.

“Well, you’re a long way from Navahk-wherever it is-” the captain observed, putting the tiller over to steer for his ship “-and I can hardly wait till I put the two of you ashore in Belhadan! Korthrala, the Axemen will have a fit! Still,” he squinted into the sun, his voice more thoughtful, “I doubt you’d’ve made it this far if you couldn’t land on your feet.”

“Oh, we’ll be fine,” Brandark said, turning on the thwart to sit facing him. “Assuming, of course, that Bahzell doesn’t find something else to come all over noble about.”

“Noble, is he? Him? ” Evark gave a crack of laughter. “Now somehow I don’t think that’s the very word I’d use to describe him!”

“Oh, but he is!” Brandark assured the captain. “Nobler than you could possibly guess.”

“Here! That’s enough of that!” Bahzell protested while the entire boat’s crew chortled.

“Don’t let his modesty fool you,” Brandark said earnestly, a wicked gleam in his eye. “He’s too shy to brag on himself, but I know. In fact, why don’t I just entertain you with a song on the way back to your ship, Captain?”

“Oh, no, you don’t!” Bahzell made a grab for the balalaika, but he couldn’t reach far enough past the oarsmen, and Brandark settled the instrument in his lap with a seraphic smile.

“It’s just a little thing I’m still working on,” he told a grinning Evark while Bahzell sputtered behind him. “I call it The Lay of Bahzell Bloody-Hand, and it goes like this-”

The Gods of Norfressa

Orr All-Father

Often called “The Creator” or “The Establisher,” Orr is considered the creator of the universe and the king and judge of gods. He is the father or creator of all but one of the Gods of Light and the most powerful of all the gods, whether of Light or Dark. His symbol is a blue starburst.

Kontifrio

“The Mother of Women” is Orr’s wife and the goddess of home, family, and the harvest. According to Norfressan theology, Kontifrio was Orr’s second creation (after Orfressa, the rest of the universe), and she is the most nurturing of the gods and the mother of all Orr’s children except Orfressa herself. Her hatred for Shīgū is implacable. Her symbol is a sheaf of wheat tied with a grape vine.

Chemalka Orfressa

“The Lady of the Storm” is the sixth child of Orr and Kontifrio. She is the goddess of weather, good and bad, and has little to do with mortals. Her symbol is the sun seen through clouds.

Chesmirsa Orfressa

“The Singer of Light” is the fourth child of Orr and Kontifrio and the younger twin sister of Tomanāk, the War God. Chesmirsa is the goddess of bards, poetry, music and art. She is very fond of mortals and has a mischievous sense of humor. Her symbol is the harp.

Hirahim Lightfoot

Known as “The Laughing God” and “The Great Seducer,” Hirahim is something of a rogue element among the Gods of Light. He is the only one of them who is not related to Orr (no one seems certain where he came from, though he acknowledges Orr’s authority . . . as much as he does anyone’s) and he is the true prankster of the gods. He is the god of merchants, thieves, and dancers, but he is also known as the god of seductions, as he has a terrible weakness for attractive female mortals (or goddesses). His symbol is a silver flute.

Isvaria Orfressa

“The Lady of Remembrance” (also called “The Slayer”) is the first child of Orr and Kontifrio. She is the goddess of needful death and the completion of life and rules the House of the Dead, where she keeps the Scroll of the Dead. Somewhat to her mother’s dismay, she is also Hirahim’s lover. The third most powerful of the Gods of Light, she is the special enemy of Krahana, and her symbol is a scroll with skull winding knobs.

Khalifrio Orfressa

“The Lady of the Lightning” is Orr and Kontifrio’s second child and the goddess of elemental destruction. She is considered a Goddess of Light despite her penchant for destructiveness, but she has very little to do with mortals (and mortals are just as happy about it, thank you). Her symbol is a forked lightning bolt.