Seer King - The Seer King Part 6

*"She is a good girl. She's never sick. She has most of her teeth. She doesn't eat much, either. She knows how to sew, and I'm sure you could find someone to show her how to cook.

"She even can be..." and the man let the pause hang, "... good to you. Better as she gets older."

He elbowed the girl, and she attempted to put on a smile, such as she'd seen one or another of the wh.o.r.es of this byway paint on. But I saw the fear behind it clearly.

Perhaps I should have struck the man, or something. I did not, but dropped a silver coin in the dust near him and hurried back to theTauler, reminded that Numantia may be a great country, but it was, and is, carrying a horrid burden of despair and poverty.

I wished men, and wish now, that all of us were rich, or at least lacked for nothing. But I suppose such contentment would bore the G.o.ds and make them rouse Umar and start over, to make a more fascinating world for their amus.e.m.e.nt. As the second week drew to a close, I was weary of traveling, and my bones needed hard exercise. I thought of running up and down the decks, or climbing the teakwork, but thought I probably already behaved enough like Vachan not to need to act more like a caged monkey.

The Latane was now clear, blue, and the land around it green and rich again. We had entered that most blessed of lands, the state of Urey. The river divided again and again, but each branch remained navigable. From atop the third deck I could see, dim in the distance, the mountains that marked the end of the small state, and the beginnings of theBorder States.Here is where I would be blooded, and make my name.

We docked, and I saddled my horses and set out through the city on the road that would take me to the Seventeenth Lancers' home in the garrison city ofMehul.

I'd expected to find a beautiful city, but instead I found a magical place. It was very old, and it had been a summering place for the kings of Numantia once.

Elsewhere in Numantia was heat; here it was cool, a pleasant breeze blowing down from the mountains and stirring the trees of the many parks in the city. The trees themselves were of a type I'd never seen, sixty feet in circ.u.mference, with multicolored leaves big enough to use for umbrellas in the gentle rains that fell occasionally.

In the center of the city, rather than a palace or a grim fortress, was a garden, where fountains rose and sang among pillars of black marble, worked with gold, and the water ran laughing down cascades into small pools.

Ca.n.a.ls stretched through the city, connecting the district's many lakes. Huge multistoried buildings, old beyond age, stretched up, their balconies and lattices arabesques of beauty, and flowers growing on their roofs.

There were sidewalk cafes, and I smelled roast duck, spiced fish, chile-drenched corn, and other delights.

The people seemed uniformly cheerful and friendly. While of course there were beggars, they looked as if they'd bathed and been fed within the week, and even pled their cases as if they were respectable men and women working a trade, asking no more than their due.

On the lakes I saw drifting islands of flowers, black-faced swans, and moored houseboats, each with wonderfully carved decorations in many kinds of wood stained in rainbow hues. Behind each of these houseboats, which were almost feet long, was a smaller, canopied craft fitted with cushions, perfect for a lazy idyll on a warm day like this. This, I thought a bit wistfully, would be a perfect place for a lover and a long holiday.

I rode on into the countryside. The land was very green, rolling farmland, broken by forests and lakes, each inviting the fisherman, boatman, or swimmer.

It was said that all men have two homes-their own and Urey-and I knew it was true. What that province is now is yet another example of the doom the Emperor Tenedos-and, I must admit, myself-brought to our country. Mourn, Numan-tians, the glory that was Urey and is no more.

But that day I swear even the dust Lucan's heels kicked up smelled sweeter than any other.

KI understood why Urey, although under the protectorate of Numantia, was also claimed by the neighboringprovinceofKallioand even, along with theBorderStatesfarther south, by Maisir, although at the time no one thought they meant their a.s.sertion to be taken seriously.

I rode on, toward Mehul. If Renan is one point of an equal-sided triangle andSuJem Pa.s.sis another, then the third point, to the west, is Mehul. It guards not onlySulem Pa.s.s,but another fearsome area, the Urshi Highlands, as well. They're also part of theBorder States,but the legend says the men who live there are those who are too fierce for their brothers in the rest of Kait, who keep the same customs and speak much the same language, to tolerate. Certainly they've caused the army and the people of Urey as much grief over the years as any raiders who boil out ofSulem Pa.s.s.This I would learn well within a few weeks.

I camped that night beside a stream, and stretched out my bedroll under the stars, listening to, far in the distance, the belling of a maned deer as I drifted away.

The next day, I rode into Mehul. The town is a fairly typical border settlement, with perhaps three or four thousand people, most of them working directly or indirectly to support the Lancers.

Their camp is five minutes' walk beyond the town. It's been there for generations, time enough for the saplings planted in the dim hope the regiment might be there long enough to cut them for kindling to grow into great plane trees that give welcome shade during the Time of Heat The barracks are of stone, with wooden interiors and tile roofs that shed heat and let the water run off freely during the Time of Rains.

The grounds are perfectly kept, from green lawns to seasonal flowers, which might be expected when you realize there are several hundred men who are only a lance-major's frown away from being ordered to trim the gra.s.s with nail-clippers. There are, or were anyway, around lances in the regiment, a.s.signed to six troops and headquarters. The troops were Sambar, which is for scouting; Lion; Leopard; Cheetah; Tiger;

and Sun Bear, which rides in support of the four combat troops. Each troop contains four columns of twenty-five, which are numbered andalways referred to by the ordinal or it's time to buy the mess a round.

I rode in, reported to the regimental adjutant, and was a.s.signed to Three Column, Cheetah Troop.

The next few days blurred past in a haze of happiness, as I was given necessary weapons, uniforms, the Spell of Understanding for the local languages, equipment, and met my fellow officers, and most important of all, the men of my column. I can still name them all, even the ones who did not choose to follow me later as members of my household guard when I rode with the emperor.

They also brought the only fear I had: fear that I'd somehow fail them and myself, and bring needless deaths. Fortunately, my father had told me every one of the stages I'd go through in my first command, and had warned me to leave well enough alone, admonishing, "Do not start fiddling with your column like a spinster who constantly arranges her sitting room and is never satisfied," and instructing me, "At the beginning, be no more than a presence to your men, and a pupil to your warrants." I tried to obey him.

I also knew full well that I was the youngest, newest member of the mess, and so kept well into the shadows, staying silent unless spoken to, and then making my answers as brief as possible.

Some of the other junior legates chaffed me, trying to find a weakness. I responded in kind, but stayed a bit remote, practicing another of my father's preachings, the one that said the cheery man who first befriends you in a new post will borrow money, steal your gear, and finally abandon you in battle.

Friendship isn't a spring flower, he went on, but grows like an oak. He warned me there were of course exceptions, just as there are, he added, in love.

Two months pa.s.sed, and I swear I grew happier with each day. Then came the pinnacle: I was ordered to take my column out to a village not far distant that had been hit by raiders fromKthe Highlands and, in Domina Herstal's words, "put whatev-er's right back in its slot, and deal with whatever's wrong as you see fit."

Some might gasp at a man in his fifties being stupid enough to a.s.sign the task of warden, judge, and possible executioner to a boy just short of his twentieth birthday, but Herstal was a long spear-cast from being a fool. He'd told off Cheetah Troop's troop guide, a bearded man namedBikanerwho'd been with the regiment for twenty years, and, I found later, a warrant who'd broken in more than a dozen fresh legates, to accompany me. My lance-majors had nearly as much experience, and the column was liberally salted with long-service lances. There were, in fact, only two recruits holding the rank of horseman. With twenty-five men such as these, I would have had to be a complete moron to fail.

I was also given, since the raiders came from across the border, a renegade tribesman named Ysaye we used for a scout. I thought him a complete scoundrel, and Troop Guide Bikaner cheerfully a.s.sured me I was correct, but he was inexorably loyal to the regiment, if for no other reason than that he'd been named outlaw in his nativeHighlandsand had also committed murder here in Urey. We were his last and only safety, the troop guide said," 'less he c'n rigger somethin' else, an' then he'll turn on us like he did ever'one else."

We rode to the village, and set up a tribunal in the square. The situation was simple-or so it appeared at first.

The raider was an Urshi chieftain and reputed sorcerer who called himself the Wolf of Ghazi. He'd hit the village near dawn, killed two herdsmen, gravely wounded another, and stolen seven bullocks. But this was not the main plaint of the villagers. He had also broken down the doors of a local merchant, beaten and robbed him, and stolen his only daughter.

Through the weepings and wailings of his family, I asked for what purpose. The babble became worse-the Wolf would either take her to wife, make her a common wh.o.r.e for his men, or, and this was the consensus by volume, sacrifice her in some terrible ceremony, for, as the merchant said, "she was a virgin, f, blessed by the G.o.ds, the favorite of us all." I asked how this bandit had known which house to break into, and was informed no doubt he'd seen this beautiful flower of Urey, this peerless wonder of young womanhood, this pearl of beauty, when he'd traded in the village.

I was about to ask why the villagers were so foolish as to let a bandit window-shop for what he needs, especially when trade with the Border States was illegal save on certain days clearly specified by the government. But Troop Guide Bikan-er shook his head slightly, and I said nothing. Later he told me all of the border towns trade regularly with their enemies, and not infrequently intermarry, which, he said, "makes enforcin' th' law interestin' at times, not knowin' whether you're step-pin' into th' middle of a feud or not."

We must ride out immediately to save this merchant's daughter, whose name was Tigrinya, before she was sacrificed to some dark demon, and bring the Wolf to bay, not forgetting, the village chief reminded us, payment not only for the bullocks, which we should also return if possible, but for the deaths and sore injury of his man.

So I rode across a border on my first military campaign- twenty-seven men after a ragam.u.f.fin bandit and the peasant girl he'd kidnapped.

Ysaye knew where the Wolf's lair would be: no more than three leagues from the border, just north of the village he came from and claimed lordship over.

We followed a track into the hills, and twice saw cattle droppings not two days old-we were on the right path. I felt very confident, very sure mat we would destroy this man and I'd win great honor.

The lance riding point shouted a warning, and I saw three men ahead, just where the truck entered a narrow defile. They screamed defiance, and lobbed arrows at us that fell well short.

Now we had them! I was about to call for the charge, and Troop Guide Bikaner said, "Sir!" There was something imperative in his tone, and so I held back, although anger touched me-battle is no time for a conference.

"Beggin' th' legate's pardon, but it's not strange for th' tribesmen t' suck so'jers in, sendin' a few out t'challenge, with th' main body lyin' in ambush."

As he spoke, my confidence, my bravado, vanished, and I cursed, knowingBikanerwas right, and that in addition the Wolf had sent a spell out, seeking a fool who'd allow it a home in his mind and make him bloodthirsty and foolhardy.

"Column ... halt!" I snapped. "Dismount! Troop Guide Bikaner, I want four men on foot to go forward as flankers atop those rocks. Five archers halfway to that pa.s.s to support them. Make sure they aren't waiting for us on the other side."

As my scouts went out, moving like cautious lizards from shelter to shelter, I heard the clatter of horses'

hooves from beyond.

"We've sprung it,"Bikanerannounced. "There'll be no one waitin' now."

But I'd learned my lesson. There could be a double bluff being played, and so had the men proceed.

There was a small pocket beyond the narrow canyon, perfect to tether horses in while their riders waited for twenty-five or so idiots to stumble into the trap, a pocket with fresh, steaming horseapples on the ground. But the Wolf's riders had broken off.

"That's th' way a th' Men a th' Hills," Lance-Major Wace said. "They'll on'y fight y' t'yer back, ne'er t'yer face."

I guessed he thought there was something dishonorable about a handful of poorly trained men not willing to stand up to twenty-seven regulars. I thought anyone who'd fight as he wanted was not only foolish, but destined for a short life as well.

We went on, farther into the mountains, but encountered no other trap.

We rounded a bend, where the track ran halfway up a low hill, with tall, barren mountains on either side, and saw the stronghold of the Wolf of Ghazi.

It was a round tower, perhaps fifty feet high and a bit more in diameter, that'd been laboriously built with flat stones piled atop each other, and crudely mortared with clay from the near-

by stream. There were firing slits in the walls, and I counted three floors, and a deck with raised stonework for archers to fight from. The upper floor's slits were wider, almost windows.

It wasn't much of a castle-but then, it didn't need to be to stop us.

There were men atop the tower, and suddenly arrows rained out. They fell well short, but I prudently ordered my men to withdraw, leave their horses with handlers, and come forward prepared for battle.

Before they could, a tall, bearded man stood up on top of the tower. He wore boots, bright red robes, had a belt around his waist with several weapons stuck in it and a blue clolh wrapped neatly around his head. This could only be the Wolf of Ghazi.

"You are dead men!" he screeched, and his voice was sor-cerously magnified. "Flee, or face my wrath!"

I called for my two best archers, and rode forward. Perhaps I should've dismounted, since a horse under fire can be skittish, but I needed all of the presence I could manage. I stopped at what I estimated was extreme arrow range.

"I am Legate Damastes & Cimabue, of the Seventeenth Lancers, and I speak for the villagers of Urey!"

I called in return. "You have broken the laws of our land, and you must pay!"

The Wolf roared laughter. "I am the only law I obey! You are a fool!" "Return the woman! And pay for your misdeeds," I called back. "You must also bring gold for the families of the men you slew, and the one you maimed." "Leave my land, or you die!" Clearly, we were not communicating any too well. "You have four hours to consider," I came back, I'm afraid rather weakly. All that came back was another laugh. We started away, and very suddenly one of my archers, a very alert man named Curd, cursed and his bowstring tw.a.n.ged. There came a shriek from the tower, and a tribesman flopped for- *ward, from one of the windows, his bow dropping from dead fingers before he'd had time to loose a shaft at me.

I was grateful I hadn't been stupid enough to use a white flag of truce when I rode up-it might have given the man a better aiming point. But now I had my second lesson in the way war was waged in the Border States.

I went back to the men, and we held a council of war. Our options appeared fairly limited, and none were enchanting. We had the Wolf besieged, but how long could twenty-seven men seal off his stronghold? I a.s.sumed no more than a day or so before either his bandits would slip off through secret ways we knew nothing about or, just as likely, we ourselves would be attacked by other Men of the Hills. I doubted if the Wolf had many allies, but figured most of the Highlanders would forget a feud for a chance at the head of a Numantian soldier.

We could attack the tower frontalry, and be shot down as we charged Or we could give up and retreat.

I would accept none of the three, and set my troops to building a breastwork-carrying rocks to build a low stone wall around a tiny hillock near the redoubt, enough to slow down a charge if we were attacked. There were mutters at my order- since no cavalryman prizes physical labor-which were quickly subdued by the warrants. While they set to work, I went out a few yards and sat studying the tower.

There were two doors, both of wood and certainly heavily barred and blocked from the inside. Would it be possible, come nightfall, to set fire to them? This was doubtful: What could I use for firewood? If I had a seer with me, I could've had a spell cast that would have made them roar up in fire, but even so, what would that have given me? There would still be a dozen yards of open land to charge across. I stared on. A slight idea came, and I called for Ysaye.

I pointed to the windows on the third floor, and asked if he thought a man could fit through them. He looked closely, and said yes-if he was thin. Very thin. Troop Guide Bikaner would never make it I looked at the stonework of the tower.

"Can that be climbed?'

Ysaye didn't need to look.

"I could climb it. To me, to any Man of die Hills, it would be like a highway. But you... the soldiers? I do not think."

Idid think, having a bit more respect for my men than he did. But what was the possibility of getting enough men to take the tower up the wall in silence? I started to discard that as another stupid idea, then another possibility came.

"Ysaye, would the Wolf fear magic?"

"Of course. Doesn't the swordsman always worry that one day he will face someone better with the blade than he? But we have none. Unless the legate has talents so far unblossomed."

"I surely do," I said firmly. I asked him for the small jar of blue kohl I knew he would have about him, that all the hillmen used to make up their eyes, thinking it made them more handsome. He puzzled, but handed it over.

I sent for Curd, and borrowed one of his arrows. Then, with two other men, I went back to my vantage point and shouted for the Wolf. He came after a bit, pulling his clothes on.

"What do you want, fool? I was just about to enjoy the woman."

I paid no attention to what he said, and held up my arrow that I'd stained blue with Ysaye's kohl. I pointed it at the Wolf, then to the four corners of the compa.s.s.

"Wolf, O Wolf," I cried, trying my best to sound like a magician, "this is thy doom, this is thy end.

Cease thy sins, make thy peace with Saionji, with Isa, G.o.d of war, or hear the Wheel creak. Obey me, O Wolf, and ye shall live. Send forth the woman, send forth the gold, and I shall not loose this arrow."

The Wolf ducked reflexively behind one of the outcrop-pings, but when nothing happened, he peered out "There is no use to hide, O Wolf. Your doom is sealed," I cried. "Do not make me send forth my arrow, which needs no bow, needs no string, but can seek you out and kill you. Wolf, there is no shelter from my arrow, there are no walls thick enough to keep you safe. O Wolf, hear me, and obey! Do not make me send forth my arrow!"

He waited for a spell, then started laughing, bellowing, and I half-hoped he'd strangle himself.

Without making an answer, he vanished. I walked back to the men. Troop Guide Bikaner made sure none of the men could hear him, and said, quietly, "Nice thinkin', Legate. But bluff ' not crackthat one.

He's too hard f r words. We'll have t'try another plan."

I shook my head "We may, Troop Guide. But not until tomorrow, because my scheme's just begun."

I waited until dark, called Ysaye to me, and told him now was the time for him to prove his boasting. I wanted him to climb that tower and perform a certain task.

He paled, and his eyes shifted, and he licked suddenly dry lips before agreeing.

"I will obey, Legate. It shall only take a few moments." "I have full confidence in you, Ysaye," I said.

"I'll go forward with you, and Lancer Curti as well, who shoots most accurately in the dark. He will be able to give you supporting fire if you're found out Or..." I let my voice trail away, not needing to add what he would shoot at if Ysaye tried to flee, "ff you do not return in one fingerspan of the moon, we shall a.s.sume you became lost, and make a great outcry to guide you back."

His face fell. I'd closed off his possible escape. I took the arrow I'd cast my "spell" on, and told him what to do.

We crept forward. The tower was all aught, and I heard the sounds of laughter and singing. The Wolf's men weren't taking my presence heavily.

Ysaye looked at me, at Curti's ready bow, cast away his robes, and said, "I think, Legate, in another life you were one of us," and vanished into the darkness. I strained my eyes, and thought, after a bit, I saw something move up the tower wall like a great cautious spider.