The Lords of the Crimson River Part 8

Miera giggled and Alsin looked scandalized. "Chenosh, guard your tongue. Your sister is present, and it is unfit-"

"Oh, go tie yourself into a knot, Alsin. My sister is a married woman. She should know what we are talking about. Or do you mean to suggest Blade is so lacking in manhood that he has not taught her?"

At this point Miera started laughing so hard she finally had to stuff her hair into her mouth and bury her face against her husband's back to stop herself. Alsin turned away, and Blade could have sworn the Marshal was blushing.

Chenosh sat down on the bed, poured himself more wine, and continued quietly. "The women who died today were not the first to suffer at Raskod's hands in that way, but they may well be the last. I have given their comrades some weapons, to pay the blood debt when they think the time is ripe." Then Chenosh explained what the Lords of Nainan were going to have to do.

Chapter 16.

In Duke Raskod's castle, Issos, the woman called herself Sarylla. When she'd been a free blacksmith's daughter she'd used another name. No one else alive knew it, and she herself forgot it for months at a time. Tonight it was very much in her mind. After tonight she would be free-with either the freedom of a living woman escaped from slavery, or the freedom of a dead woman escaped from everything in the world.

She and the other women of Raskod's harem had just returned to Issos after their sojourn in Nainan, and they were now going to do something about their plight. For too long, the Duke and his Lords had abused them, but the brutal killing of two of their number in Nainan had been the last straw. Now, with the weapons they had been given by the mysterious stranger in Nainan-not to mention the other "thing" he had given them, which made them feel like real women again-they were prepared to get control of the castle and put an end to their slavery once and for all.

Before they left Nainan, they had worked out a plan with the stranger. Sarylla and the other women would take over the gate tower that controlled the drawbridge, and then they would hang out signal lanterns. A messenger from Nainan would be watching, and he would immediately report back to his Lords, who would then ride into Issos and force Duke Raskod's men to surrender the castle.

Then there was Duke Raskod himself, but Fara, who was at present his favorite bed partner, had come up with a plan to do away with him. She was going to poison him, then take her own life, screaming out at the same time to let the others know the deed was done. Sarylla had tried to protest, but Fara raised her hand to silence her. "My life is a small thing to give in exchange for the lives of our women," she said. "It will be done as I have described," and her tone indicated that she would tolerate no argument.

So the two women embraced and wished each other well, then left Nainan with the weapons concealed in their voluminous capes and gowns. Meanwhile the stranger had returned to his own people, to arrange his end of the bargain.

Now Sarylla reached the door at the foot of the spiral stairs inside the gate tower. The guard who should have been standing there was nowhere in sight. She breathed a short sigh of relief and motioned her friend Elcha forward. They stood by the door, almost holding their breath as they listened for the sounds which would tell them they had even less time than before. "If you hear-what we are sure to hear," said Sarylla, "call the others forward at once and bring them up the stairs. I don't care what you've heard or not heard from me. Bring them."

Elcha laid a hand against Sarylla's cheek. She was ten years older than her leader and looked almost old enough to be her mother. She still followed the younger woman because her combination of fiery courage and cool thinking made Sarylla the most worthy of the castle's women to lead-next to the one who would not live through this night, whatever might happen to the rest.

Sarylla slipped the fine-bladed dagger deeper into her red silk trousers and hurried up the stairs. The guard who should have been at the bottom was at the top. He sat on the floor with his back against the wall, his mace across his knees, and a jug of wine ready to hand. He only raised the mace when he saw the woman standing over him.

"Huh. What are you doing here, girl?"

"Well... Would you be telling the Duke or the House Mistress if I told you?"

"Maybe, maybe not. Depends on what you pay me." His leer made it obvious what sort of payment he expected. Duke Raskod seldom objected to Lords taking his women, but the hired guards were another matter. They seldom got the taste of a clean, good-looking woman.

"I can pay it if we're quick." Sarylla started unfastening her tunic and tried to get a look into the next room, where the machinery for controlling the drawbridge was stationed. From the shadows, it looked as if there was only one other guard. That would be enough to end her life, but not enough to hold the tower against the other six women. Even if there were the usual four guards in the tower, it would be best to go ahead. The worst death the guards could give them would be better and quicker than the deaths they would face otherwise.

The guard stood up but didn't take off his clothes. He only leaned back against the wall and fumbled with the lacing of his trousers. At the same time his eyes were devouring Sarylla's bare b.r.e.a.s.t.s. So he wanted her to suck him, did he? Better and better. She wouldn't have to strip completely, with the trouble that could give her in keeping her steel hidden.

She crawled over to the guard's feet on her hands and knees, a position which she knew made her b.r.e.a.s.t.s swing interestingly. Then she half rose and went to work.

Sarylla didn't have the most skilled mouth in Castle Issos, or at least Duke Raskod said so, and she supposed he knew what he was talking about. However, the guard wasn't Duke Raskod, and Sarylla quickly had him groaning with pleasure and thinking of nothing else except her hot lips on his manhood-sucking, licking, dancing up and down his shaft all the way to its root and then back down to the sensitive areas near the head....

Sarylla knew that in another moment he would grip her by the hair while she finished her work. That would destroy her freedom of movement. She slipped her free hand inside the waist of her trousers and came out with the knife. The guard had his eyes closed, so he never saw the steel. He only felt it searing his skin, sliding between his ribs into his heart. Life went out of him- in the same moment as he reached his climax. Blood and other fluids mingled in the pool spreading around him on the floor.

Sarylla leaped up as he crumpled, spat furiously to get his taste out of her mouth, then leaped through the door into the main room. The guard there was just rising to his feet with a suspicious look on his face. She s.n.a.t.c.hed the oil lamp off the table and threw it in his face. He leaped back, but found his way barred by the winch handle. Before he could draw his sword Sarylla was on him, stabbing at throat, chest, groin, thigh, and everywhere else she could reach. She was that most terrifying kind of opponent, one who doesn't care if she dies as long as she can kill. The guard was too overwhelmed to strike back until he had lost so much blood that he lacked the necessary strength for this task.

Sarylla left him dying on the floor, ran back to the head of the stairs, and shouted down. A shout from Elcha below answered her, then more shouts from the other women.

As if to echo the shouts came a woman's scream of mortal agony. A terrible silence followed, lasting just long enough to let the women at the foot of the stairs hurry through the door, close and bar it, then scurry up the stairs. Suddenly shouts and running feet began to fill the castle as Duke Raskod's Lords realized what was afoot.

Quickly the women went into the room and pushed all the furniture in it down the stairs to make a pile against the bottom door. The guards' bodies were stripped of their weapons and clothing and sent after the furniture. Then they closed, locked, and barred the upper door and slumped to the floor. They were breathing heavily and sweating partly with the effort, partly with stark fear at their own boldness.

Sarylla was the first to rally. She forced herself to stand up, take a few deep breaths, and look out the window. Nothing was happening in the village at the foot of the hill-not yet. The news of Duke Raskod's death would be all over the castle by now, but someone would surely have sense to keep it inside the gates for now. However, the watching eyes in the village would be enough, once they hung out the signal lanterns....

"The lanterns!" Sarylla screamed. If they weren't ready to hand...

Elcha laughed and pulled two of the horn-and-bra.s.s battle lanterns out from under her cloak. "I had them with me all along," she said.

"I'm sorry." Sarylla pushed sweat-dampened black hair out of her eyes. "I suppose my thoughts were elsewhere."

That provoked a laugh which raised everyone's spirits. It didn't take long to get out the third lantern, light all of them, and lower them out the window on lengths of rope. With the signal lighted, the women were now free to explore their improvised refuge. Some were frightened to discover there was only a day's supply of water in the tower. "If the Nainans don't come soon, we'll die of thirst," one wailed.

Elcha flayed the weaklings with her tongue. "Even dying of thirst is a better death than Fara's," she snapped. "If you're afraid of that, you can always jump."

"And if you don't shut up I'll throw you out the window," Sarylla added. She said this as much to beat down her own fears as to impress the other women. Every time there was a silence, she found herself listening for more screams-the death screams of anyone who came in the path of Raskod's men. Then she bit her lip. She'd be no sort of an example to the others if she didn't get a better grip on herself. She peered out the window, to see if the lanterns were burning steadily, then turned back to the others.

"Let's get a file and start sharpening all the weapons," she said. She bent over to pick up the mace and only then realized she was still naked to the waist. And her tunic was now on the other side of a locked door.

Oh, well. If the Nainans come in time, I'll be glad to greet them stark naked. If they don't, I'll be too dead to worry about clothing.

A good many eyes were watching the castle from the village. All saw the three lanterns hung out of the gate tower and wondered what they meant. Only one pair of eyes belonged to someone who knew.

That man waited just long enough to count the lanterns twice. Then he mounted and rode for the border of the Duchy as if monsters were snapping at his horse's heels. His horse was a good one, but it was lathered, staggering, and more dead than alive by the time he crossed into Nainan. A few miles farther on, it finally collapsed and died, but by then he was within sight of one of the frontier castles. By noon his message was on its way to Marshal Lord Alsin, and Captain of the Guardsmen Lord Blade was waiting with three hundred mounted Lords in the forest south of the castle.

By nightfall, the three hundred Lords had crossed into the Duchy of Issos and were riding hard for Duke Raskod's castle.

It took Nainan's Lords two days to reach Castle Issos. By then they knew that the message had told the truth. Duke Raskod was dead. The poison he'd sucked off Fara's nipples had done its work. In every village and from every castle they pa.s.sed, they heard this. They also found so much confusion that n.o.body could have opposed their march even if he'd wanted to. In fact, most villagers and some Lords openly welcomed the riders of Nainan and the end of Duke Raskod's harsh and pleasure-loving rule. Blade noticed that this kind of welcome seemed to increase in strength the closer they got to the castle.

"The castles and villages close to Raskod's seat were the ones who had to give up their pretty girls for his pleasure," said Alsin as they rode down the last valley before the castle. "He was only able to keep them at all inhabited these last few years by killing anyone who tried to flee. Even Lords sometimes suffered."

Now that Duke Raskod's hand was lifted, the villagers were proving the truth of Alsin's statement by fleeing in swarms. The riders of Nainan covered the last few miles to the castle over roads choked with refugees, carrying babies and valuables and driving livestock before them. All of them seemed to have only one thought-to get out of reach of Raskod's Lords before they started seeking a ghastly vengeance for their Duke's murder. Blade listened to some of the refugees' talk as he rode past. None of them seemed aware that they themselves could make the slightest difference to what happened now.

No two Lords in Nainan's army agreed on what they expected to find at Castle Issos. Personally, Blade expected to find the heads of the women of Raskod's harem on pikes outside the closed gates, with a defiant garrison inside ready to fight to the last man.

They found the gates closed, all right, but they also found the women snugly in possession of the gate tower, able to lower the drawbridge any time they wanted. Under a flag of truce, Blade and Lord Gennar rode to within shouting distance of the gate tower. A lovely young darkhaired woman leaned out the topmost window, bare to the waist.

"Well done!" Blade shouted. "How are you?"

"We're safe for the moment," she said in a cracked, rasping voice. "But for the love of the Fathers, get us some water!"

Blade sent Lord Gennar back to order up pack horses carrying water bags. From the castle walls one of Raskod's men shouted, "You aren't going to help those b.i.t.c.hes!" and emphasized his opinion by throwing a spear. It narrowly missed Blade.

He leaned out of his saddle, pulled the spear free of the ground, then shook it at the castle walls. "The next thing any of you throws, the ladies are going to lower the drawbridge. We'll come in, and we'll come with swords in our hands." Blade wasn't sure if he had the right to make that threat, but he didn't care. The women had shown a cold-blooded courage he greatly admired, and they weren't going to die now that safety was so close if he could do anything about it.

Raskod's men seemed to believe the threat. The men on the walls watched in silence as the women hauled the water bags up to the window. Blade and Gennar were about to ride away when they saw Chenosh riding toward them, escorted by half a dozen Lords. One of them carried a hunting crossbow. Just beyond a spear throw from the wall, the archer dismounted, c.o.c.ked the bow, put a bolt in it, and shot the bolt over the walls. Chenosh rode up to Blade and explained.

"That's our terms. If they surrender by dawn tomorrow, Duke Raskod's healthy son will inherit the Duchy. He and his Lords must swear the same oaths as Duke Padro, but that's all. If they don't yield, the women will lower the drawbridge and we'll storm the castle. The Duchy of Issos will become part of Nainan."

Blade laughed. "I just threatened them with about the same thing if they didn't let me get water to the women." They turned their horses and rode side by side away from the castle. Blade couldn't help looking back once or twice at the ma.s.sive walls and the frowning keep. Getting inside the walls would be only half the victory. He hoped that in saying he would storm the castle, Marshal Alsin hadn't made a threat he couldn't hope to carry out.

The men of Nainan spent an uneasy night. Most of them didn't even bother taking off their armor, and no one slept without a weapon close to hand. They ate well, off the sheep and pigs that had strayed from the fleeing villagers, and the smell of roasting meat and the sizzle of dripping fat filled the camp.

First light brought no word from the castle, but it did bring two unexpected sets of reinforcements. One included thirty Lords of Nainan, led by Lord Eba.s.s, the man whom Blade had fought just after his arrival in this Dimension. Still apologetic for having mistaken Blade for an enemy, Lord Eba.s.s was escorting Miera and Cheeky. Alsin didn't dare abuse Miera in Blade's presence, but he did start to question Eba.s.s rather sharply.

Miera stopped him from doing even that. "Eba.s.s knows he owes my husband a service," she said coolly. "I told him that he could pay his debt by gathering some Lords and bringing me and Cheeky here. His honor demanded that he do as I asked, so do not find fault with him."

Lord Eba.s.s had been a man of few words even before his fight with the Faissan Lord had disfigured his face. Now he seemed to be a man of no words at all. He merely nodded and gave a grunt, which might well have been the word "Yes."

The other reinforcements were even less welcome, although not even Alsin dared to say a word out loud against them. They were fifty mounted Lords from the elite companions of Duke Pirod of Skandra, the best fighting leader among the Dukes of the Crimson River. "We have heard of the work of Duke Cyron against his enemies in recent days," said their leader. "Our Duke sent us to see that work with our own eyes."

That was all he would say, and although Duke Pirod was supposed to be Cyron's ally, these uninvited observers made the Lords of Nainan uneasy. There were too many of Nainan's secrets they might learn too soon, but there was also nothing at all to be done about it. Revealing secrets would be bad, but breaking the alliance with Duke Pirod would be far worse.

Whatever Duke Pirod's men hoped to do, the first thing they actually did was to force the surrender of Duke Raskod's castle. Seeing two Dukes now in the field against them, even the most determined and loyal Lords of Issos realized that victory was no longer possible. Defeat might come slowly if they held out, but it still would come, and afterward they could expect no mercy. Also, Duke Raskod's healthy son, with a handful of chosen Lords, had sneaked from the castle and fled the Duchy, just after his father had been murdered. So a white flag rose on the keep, and minutes later the ladies in the gate tower let the drawbridge rumble down. All around Nainan's camp the trumpets sounded "Mount."

As Blade was preparing to lead his Guardsmen into the castle, Miera and Lord Eba.s.s rode up. Lord Eba.s.s was as tongue-tied as ever, but the embarra.s.sment on his face told Blade what Miera must have asked of him.

Why not? thought Blade. There is no law or custom against it, that I've heard of. Just the b.l.o.o.d.y Crimson River notion that women should stay home!

So Lord Eba.s.s fell in with the Guardsmen, and the trumpets sounded again. With Cheeky on his shoulder and his lady beside him, Blade rode over the drawbridge and into Castle Issos.

Chapter 17.

The flight of Duke Raskod's son left everything in confusion at Castle Issos. After hearing of this, Duke Cyron appointed Chenosh his viceroy for the Duchy of Issos. Chenosh would live in the castle, with a force of two hundred armed Lords under Blade's command. He would have no power of "high justice"-life and death-but he could judge all other cases brought before the ducal court.

Everybody knew but n.o.body said this wasn't just an effort to get government in Issos working again. It was also a test for Lord Chenosh, to see how fit he was to rule.

Chenosh had only a few days to play ruler before his grandfather arrived to plan the rest of the war. All he could do in that time was put Castle Issos into some sort of order. He buried the dead, dismissed untrustworthy servants and those who'd been cruel to the harem women, laid in supplies of food and wine, and counted Raskod's treasure. He left much of the work to Blade, who left a good deal of it to Miera. She'd helped run Castle Ranit since she was fourteen, and had a keen eye for a falsified account or a dishonest servant.

Lord Gennar was also a great help to Blade, and so was Sarylla, the woman who'd spoken to him from the gate tower. Gennar and Sarylla spent so much time in each other's company that Blade couldn't help joking with the Lord about it. Gennar replied earnestly, "I want to understand this woman. She must have a rare soul, almost lordly, to have done what she did. Yet a woman with a true Lord's soul would have died before entering Duke Raskod's house at all. I do not understand her, but I want to."

Blade managed not to smile again. More simply, Gennar was young, unmarried, and l.u.s.ty. Sarylla was beautiful and available. Blade suspected that she would have been quite happy to crawl into his bed if he hadn't brought Miera with him. Since he wasn't available, she would try to insure her position by sleeping with his second in command.

Blade wished them well. He hoped Gennar would learn something more about women from Sarylla. Certainly he and the other Crimson River Lords needed the knowledge!

The day Duke Cyron reached Castle Issos, it looked as if he'd brought half the Duchy of Nainan with him. The rest of the Guardsmen were with him, several hundred other Lords, as many Helpers, all the unlordly except for the men and boys needed to keep up a war camp, and several dozen Feathered Ones. No women, though. When Cyron took the field himself, he turned a cold eye on camp followers. As he told Blade: "The fewer comforts my Lords can bring with them, the harder they'll fight to get back to what they've had to leave behind."

Other men weren't as realistic. Duke Padro of Gualdar came with Cyron, bringing a hundred fighting Lords and his usual tentful of perfumed fops. He was a subdued and sober young Duke in spite of this, seldom speaking, and looking as if he wasn't sleeping well. Escaping from total ruin through the mercy of his enemies had taken something out of the man, or perhaps put something into him which hadn't been there before.

There were also a hundred more Lords from Duke Pirod of Skandra and a hundred and fifty from Cyron's other ally, Duke Ormess of Hauga. The Lords of Hauga came with a lengthy pack train of wine and women, along with their good horses and sharp swords. They spoke quite plainly about why they'd come. "Duke Ormess knows he has to aid Cyron in the fight against his enemies. Otherwise Cyron will be able to say, 'What did you do for me, that you deserve a share in what I have won?"'

The plots and intrigues were going to get thicker and deadlier as Duke Cyron approached final victory. Just as obviously, matters would be even worse if Nainan's three victories had taken months instead of weeks. The Lords of the Crimson River would never know how much they owed to an "outland" Lord, a Duke's one-handed grandson, a proud Feathered One, and seven gallant concubines.

The allies would be marching against Duke Klaman of Faissa with the strongest army seen along the Crimson River in generations. They would have more than a thousand Lords and an equal number of Helpers, counting only the fighting men. Duke Klaman would be lucky to put seven hundred fighters into the field. In a pitched battle, the allies would have no trouble.

Things would be different if they had to lay siege to Castle Muras, Duke Klaman's seat. It was the strongest fortress along the Crimson River, almost impossible to take by storm. It would also be hard to lay siege to it. By now Duke Klaman must know what was going to happen to him. He'd be laying in enough supplies to hold Castle Muras until either winter, or possibly the army of one of the Kingdoms, came to his rescue.

"Is there a quick way to victory?" was the question on everyone's lips when Cyron's council of war met in the great hall of Castle Issos. Blade had no chance to speak for quite a while. Cyron first took the advice of Padro of Gualdar and the chief Lords sent by other Dukes. Then he took the advice of his own Captains, in order of their length of service to him. He was a long time getting around to Richard Blade, who sat through all the nonsense as patiently as he could.

When his turn came, Blade had to start off by asking a question. "What are the buildings like in Castle Muras? What are they made of?"

The best answers came from Lord Eba.s.s, who'd visited Muras several times, and from Chenosh, who'd read everything written on the subject and committed most of it to memory. It sounded to Blade as if the buildings of Castle Muras were very much like those of the other castles he'd seen along the Crimson River.

"That means they'll burn easily," he said. "If they burn, all the supplies and most of the shelter for Klaman's fighting men will go up with them. With no shelter and short rations, how long will the garrison be willing to hold out?"

Everyone seemed to agree that the garrison would yield quickly. That was the answer Blade expected. The Lords of the Crimson River were used to fighting cheap wars, with small stakes. They wouldn't manage very well if suddenly, with no warning, someone raised the stakes by burning their roofs over their heads.

It was Marshal Alsin who asked the next question. "How are you going to set the buildings of Castle Muras on fire?"

"We shoot flaming arrows over the walls," replied Blade simply.

There was a collective gasp, and everyone stared at Blade as if he'd just said something obscene. Then there was an uproar like a barnyard full of animals running wild. Blade mentally kicked himself. He'd overlooked the taboo on using archery against men of lordly rank. He hadn't actually forgotten it, he'd just a.s.sumed that no one would think that the use of flaming arrows against buildings would break the taboo. Apparently he'd overestimated the intelligence of the other Lords.

After the council recovered from the shock, they did Blade the courtesy of explaining in detail why his proposal could not be accepted. Again it was Alsin who spoke, with the others all nodding as if he was expressing profound wisdom instead of probable doom for Duke Cyron's cause. "Close to the wall, the archers would be within spearcasting distance. They would die before the fires were well started. If they stand back where they will be safe, they cannot aim well. They might hit a Lord by chance. Then the Fathers and the other Lords would turn against us and all our hopes."

Blade gritted his teeth. He was tempted to ask if Alsin preferred losing the war in an honorable, lordly way, to winning in a new way. He fought the temptation, because he already knew the answer. It would be "Yes," and if someone as comparatively sensible as Alsin would say that, there was no hope of getting a different answer from anyone else!

Once again, Chenosh came to Blade's rescue, although this time he needed a little help. "Your Grace," he said, looking at Duke Padro. "I have heard tales that there are some powerful crossbows in your castle. They shoot farther, straighter, harder than any other bows in the lands of the Crimson River. Are they still fit for use?"

Duke Padro's mouth opened like a dying fish, and for a moment he seemed uncertain whether to answer or not. Then slowly he nodded. "Yes. In my father's youth, we had a plague of wild boars. He had two dozen big crossbows made, to kill a boar at four hundred paces. They proved their worth."

"And you still have them?" Chenosh prodded.

Padro hesitated again, but not so long this time. "Yes. If you think they could be used..." He didn't know what to say next, or if the other Lords would even approve what he'd said so far.

Blade took up the fight. "I think Duke Padro's bows will do the work," he said. "If they shoot four hundred paces, the archers can stand out of spear range from the walls and still hit anything in the castle. Also, they will be shooting straight. If we choose good archers and bid them aim true, no Lord will be hurt. Not unless he tries to pluck a bolt out of the air, at least!" That got an encouraging laugh.

"What do you say, my Lords?" Blade now asked. "It is the law, not to deliberately shoot an arrow at a Lord or near him. But does the law say we must also protect our enemies from their own stupidity, as if they were little children too young to be let outdoors without a nurse?"

"It has never said that, in all the years I have been obeying it," said Cyron.

"That is my thought, too," said Alsin, and Duke Padro nodded. With these three supporting Blade's interpretation of the law, no one else seemed ready to argue. The discussion quickly turned to the best way of carrying out the new plan for burning Duke Klaman out of his castle.

That still took hours, because every Lord wanted it on record that he'd made some suggestion. Few seemed to care whether the suggestions made any sense or not. Blade began to feel that staff conferences were the same in every Dimension-a golden opportunity for long-winded drones and a complete waste of time for everyone else.

The council of war finally ended when both Duke Cyron's temper and the beer in the cellar of Castle Issos ran out. Fortunately they'd made most of the necessary decisions by then, and agreed to turn the rest over to Alsin and the Captain of Duke Pirod's elite companions.

Blade controlled a sigh of relief as he left the hall, then controlled a groan as Lord Chenosh scurried toward him. The boy was a.s.signed to ride with the baggage trains and serve with the archers. There was no way he couldn't be resenting it, and no way Duke Cyron, Alsin, and Blade were going to change their minds.

Blade still managed to listen to Chenosh patiently for about five minutes, as the young man complained that he would be so far in the rear he wouldn't get to see any action. Then Blade broke in sharply, "All of what you say is true only for a pitched battle in the open field. If that happens, you will indeed be somewhere else.