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Erik thought about what he had seen so far and what he had done, and was forced to concede that Greylock was right. There was little of planning and cleverness in what Calis had done since making contact with the Queen’s army, and a great deal of boldness and hoping for luck.
Putting aside such weighty considerations, Erik decided that as long as things were settling down to routine, he’d try to get some work done on his armor and weapons. He returned to his tent and found it empty, as his three bunkmates were off working on finishing the palisades. Erik unbuckled his sword, removed his helm, and stripped off his breastplate. He grabbed a rag and some oil he had liberated from stores and began to work on his armor. He frowned when he saw how corrosion was finding niches to take hold, and set to with a vengeance to expunge all imperfections from his breastplate.
A rider came speeding over the rise, pushing his lathered horse up the trail for all he was worth. Erik instantly turned and shouted, ‘Rider coming in!’
De Loungville had the men racing for weapons and taking up positions before the rider reached the gate. Recognizing the rider as one of their own, Erik motioned for the bridge to be run out. The moat and rampart camp had been turned into a first-rate base since Calis had run off Nahoot’s company. They had found a wandering herd of bison down a ways in the woods, and some deer, as well as a good supply of nuts. With the food liberated from Nahoot’s Grand Company, they were amply provisioned for the time being.
As the rider reached the bridge he reined in, dismounting as quickly as he could. He led the horse across the bridge, which flexed and creaked alarmingly, but which held better than Erik had expected. Shrinking the leather had helped, and it would serve, but it still made him nervous each time a horse was walked across.
The rider tossed the reins to Erik and ran past him to where de Loungville and Calis were approaching. ‘It’s the greenskins,’ he shouted.
‘Where?’ asked de Loungville.
‘Down the trail. It’s a large patrol, maybe twenty of them. They don’t seem to be in any hurry.’
Calis thought for a moment. ‘Tell the men to stand down. I want us looking alert, but I don’t want anything suspicious.’
Erik passed the word as he led the rider’s horse away. He found Luis on duty around the picket and told him to walk the horse for a while, to cool her out, then to rub her down and feed her.
He returned in time to see men back at their normal posts, but noticed that every man had a weapon close to hand and many looked on edge. As he walked by, he quietly said, ‘Take it easy,’ or ‘Relax. You’ll know soon enough if there’s going to be trouble.’
Still, it was a painfully slow twenty minutes until the first of the Saaur hove into view. Erik studied them, for he had been too busy staying alive the last time he saw them mounted to study them carefully. Roo came to stand beside him and said, ‘That’s some sight.’
‘Say what you will about the greenskins, but they know how to sit those impossible mounts of theirs.’
The Saaur rode with long legs and easy seats, as if they had spent their lives on horseback. Each rider had a short bow slung across the back of his saddle, and Erik said a silent prayer that the company they had faced before had tried to charge them rather than stand off and shoot. Most of them carried round shields, made of hide over wood, marked with symbols alien to Erik. The leader wore a plume of horsehair dyed blue tied up in a large obsidian ring, affixed to a metal skullcap. The others wore simple metal helms that had large flaring sides and bar-nasals. When the last riders came into view, Erik quickly counted. There were twenty of them, followed by a baggage train of four more horses.
When they reached the camp, they halted and the leader shouted. ‘Where is Nahoot?’
His accent was thick and he tended to roar, but he could be understood. De Loungville, wearing a helm that covered his eyes, moved to the other side of the bridge. ‘What is it?’ he shouted.
‘What have you to report?’
Calis had thought on this and had instructed every man, save the new recruits from Nahoot’s company, in what was coming next. ‘We were ambushed by some men trying to come down this road. We routed them and chased them back up into the mountains.’
‘What!’ roared the Saaur leader. ‘You were told to send a messenger if you found any of those trying to leave the mountains.’
‘We sent one!’ shouted de Loungville, trying his best to sound angry. ‘Are you claiming he never reached you?’
‘I claim nothing, human,’ shouted the angry Saaur. ‘When did this happen?’
‘Less than a week ago!’
‘A week!’ The Saaur shouted something in his own language and half his company started up the trail. The leader said, ‘We need provisions. You will leave and return to the host. I am not pleased.’
‘Well, you can bet I’m not pleased you went and lost my runner,’ shouted de Loungville. ‘I’m going to make sure General Fadawah hears of this!’
‘And imps of the evening will come to have sex with you because you are so lovely,’ snapped back the officer. Erik suddenly relaxed. If the Saaur was going to fight, he wouldn’t be trading insults with de Loungville while dismounting. Whoever this officer was, he had accepted that de Loungville was Nahoot and was content to trade insults with him while the two companies changed places.
‘Any trouble with the Gilani?’
‘No,’ grunted the Saaur officer. ‘Our riders have chased the little hairy humans back into the mountains to the north of here. The ride will be so quiet you may sleep in the saddle.’ He moved onto the bridge and his huge horse’s weight made it creak alarmingly, but it held even if it did bow under the load. He led his animal into camp without noticing. Erik gave a silent prayer of thanks that it held. And he was pleased he wasn’t going to be around to see if the bridge held after repeated Saaur use.
De Loungville shouted, ‘Break camp! I want every man mounted and ready to ride in ten minutes!’
Erik hurried, for like every man there, he knew the longer they were around the Saaur, the better the chance someone would let something slip that would start a fight. He hurried to his tent, with Roo beside him, and found Biggo and Luis already setting about breaking things down. ‘Roo,’ said Erik, ‘grab my kit. I’m going to keep an eye on Nahoot’s men.’
Roo spared Erik any barb about ducking work, and merely said, ‘I’ll take care of it.’
Erik moved to where the twenty men from Nahoot’s company waited and saw they were muttering among themselves. Not giving them any chance to decide they might be better off turning Calis in to the Saaur, he shouted, ‘Get over to those horses and start bringing them up! I want the first six for the officers. Then start bringing them up to the first tent, then the second, and the third, until every other man has a mount. Then get your own gear together and get mounted. Understood!’ His tone, as loud and ferocious as he could make it, imparted the proper message: the last wasn’t a question, it was a command.
The twenty men moved quickly, several saying, ‘Yes, Corporal,’ as they half walked, half ran to the remounts.
De Loungville showed up less than a minute later and said, ‘Where are the newcomers?’
Erik pointed. ‘I’ve got them bringing up the horses for the others, and I’ll keep an eye on them.’
De Loungville nodded. ‘Good.’ He turned without another word and rejoined Calis and Greylock.
The Saaur commander was busy pulling a roll off the back of one of the baggage horses, and Erik turned to watch Nahoot’s band. The twenty newcomers were hurrying with the mounts, doing their best to remain orderly, while around them the compound was abuzz with activity. Erik hurried to where his three tentmates were breaking down their equipment, and Roo threw him his bundle. ‘Did yours first,’ he said.
Erik smiled and said, ‘Thanks,’ as he grabbed his saddle and then ran back to where the newcomers were leading horses. He selected one and quickly tacked it up, then stowed his roll behind the saddle and mounted.
He rode briskly at a trot down the line, as the compound seemed to melt away. Tents were folded, somehow forced into the small packs that carried them, and stacked up to be tied on the back of a baggage animal. The palisades had already been cleared of stakes, which were now being stored away on a baggage horse. Men were in their saddles and getting in line before the last of the horses were brought up by Nahoot’s men. The only things they were leaving behind for the Saaur were the moat, the bridge and gate, and some cookfires.
Erik watched as the Saaur camp went up. Ten large circular tents, fashioned from what looked like cane or wooden poles bent over into a semicircle, and covered with hide, were erected. They were so small that he wondered how the Saaur managed to get inside. He elected not to ask to see, and turned his attention to the last men.
The newcomers were ragged in getting themselves organized, but at last they were ready to ride. Erik moved aside as Calis gave the order to leave, and watched as the men rode past him. He also watched the Saaur commander keeping his eye on the departing humans.
There was something in those red and white eyes that seemed suspicious – at least, Erik thought that the case, but then suddenly the commander waved good-bye. Erik found his own hand raised in a parting gesture before he thought better of it. He turned his mount and took his place as last in line.
As he passed over the bridge they were leaving behind for the Saaur, he thought, ‘How odd. Like old friends bidding each other good journey.’
They passed down from the foothills overlooking the Plain of Djams, entering grasslands patrolled by Saaur companies. Whatever else might have occupied the invaders, a company of mercenaries wearing emerald armbands riding calmly toward the heart of the army wasn’t a cause for concern.
Several times they passed camps or signs of camps. Calis judged the Saaur and their allies were still sweeping the area regularly, perhaps to keep the Gilani at bay, or perhaps to guard against others seeking to hinder the southern conquest.
They rode for a week without incident until they came to their first major staging point, a motte-and-bailey construction large enough to house several hundred men and horses. A lookout in the tower high atop the motte called down and there was a squad of Saaur waiting for them at a checkpoint a hundred yards before the gate.
Without preamble, the lead Saaur shouted, ‘Orders?’
‘We’re to rejoin the host,’ said Calis evenly.
‘What company?’
Nahoot’s Grand Company,’ answered de Loungville.
The lead Saaur fixed de Loungville with a steady gaze and said, ‘You look different.’
Keeping his voice rough, de Loungville said, ‘You spend your evenings sitting up in those bloody damn hills chilling your backside for a while and see how different you look.’
The Saaur tensed, as if this wasn’t the answer he expected, but Dawar, one of the men from Nahoot’s company, said, ‘Let us get by, Murtag. We don’t have time for your games.’
The Saaur turned and said, ‘You I know, Dawar. I should cleave you both for your bad manners.’
Dawar said, ‘Then who would you have left to cheat at knucklebones?’
There was a long silence, then suddenly the Saaur named Murtag let out a bray that sounded like a leather thong being drawn through a drumhead. He said, ‘Pass, whoreson, but you must camp outside the moat. We are crowded inside. When you come to game tonight, bring plenty of gold.’
After they had ridden away from the checkpoint, Erik urged his horse up to Dawar’s side and said, ‘What was that noise?’
The mercenary shook his head and said, ‘That’s their idea of laughter, if you can believe it. Murtag’s a bully of sorts, but it’s all bluster. Oh, he could cut you in two if he had a mind, but he’d rather have you trembling and pissing your pants, or insulting him back. It’s the indifferent ones that get on his nerves. I’ve gambled with him enough to know. After he’s had some drink, he’s pretty good company, for a lizard. Knows some funny stories.’
Erik smiled. ‘You’ve earned a bonus.’
A calculating look crossed Dawar’s face. ‘You and me should talk later, Corporal.’
‘After the horses are bedded,’ answered Erik.
Erik made his way quickly to where de Loungville and Calis rode, leaning over in his saddle so he could speak quietly to de Loungville. ‘I told Dawar he earned a bonus.’
De Loungville said, ‘Then you can pay it.’
Calis motioned for the company to fan out on the east side of the moat, near another company of men, who ignored their arrival. He turned his horse around and said, ‘What is it?’
‘Young von Darkmoor here is giving away your money.’
Erik explained and Calis said, ‘What’s troubling you?’
‘He was too quick and easy to bluff us past the Saaur. I don’t trust him. I remember he was pretty quick to end the fight, as well, almost …’
‘As if he wanted to be captured?’ finished Calis.
De Loungville grinned, and Erik said, What is it?’
‘Those twenty we kept with us, Erik,’ answered Calis, ‘aren’t the men we felt most able to trust.’
De Loungville said, ‘They’re the ones we most need to keep an eye on.’
Erik sat back in his saddle and stared open-mouthed for a moment, then shook his head. ‘I’m an idiot.’
‘No,’ said Calis, ‘but you’ve a lot to learn about the less obvious side of warcraft. The twenty men we kept all had answers that came a bit too fast and easy for mercenaries. I think this Emerald Queen has agents sprinkled throughout her army. All twenty aren’t agents, I’m sure, but I’m almost certain one or two are, maybe more. So we keep the most likely close by.’
‘Trusting bunch,’ offered de Loungville. ‘Now, look. You and a couple of men you trust, say Biggo and Jadow, keep close to those men, don’t let too many of them off duty at any one time, and keep an eye on where they wander. If any of them head into that fortress, I want one of you along.’ He reached inside his tunic and pulled out a heavy purse. ‘We lost some gold on the baggage train, but I kept most of it.’ He opened the pouch and handed a dozen small coins to Erik. ‘Pass some of this around so that if any one of those twenty lads wants to step into the fort for a drink, you’ll be the fellow to buy it for them. Understand?’
Erik nodded. ‘I’ll make sure no more than four of them are free to cause trouble at a time.’ He turned his horse, put heels to its flanks, and rode back down toward the end of the line.
Calis said, ‘He’s rounding out nicely.’
De Loungville said, ‘Aw, he’s still not nearly half mean enough, but I’ll fix that.’
Calis smiled slightly and turned back to oversee the making of the camp.
Erik walked the perimeter of the camp, keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. With the fortress at their back, Calis had ordered no rampart and trench dug. The men set up their tents quickly and saw to their stores, and began to settle in for the night.
As he moved along, Erik noticed that the eight men from Nahoot’s company that he had put to guarding the remounts were at their posts, talking in pairs, but otherwise where they should be. Four others were bedded down, or at least had been ten minutes before when he had passed their tent. Jadow was watching that group. Four others were working commissary duty. That left four unaccounted for, and if Biggo was doing as ordered, he was close to them.
Erik found Roo in his tent, trying to get some sleep. ‘I thought you had duty?’ said Erik, sitting down to pull off his boots.
‘I traded with Luis. He wanted to go into the fortress and see if there were any whores.’
The thought of women suddenly had Erik interested, so he stopped pulling off his boots. ‘Maybe I should check up.’
Rolling over, Roo said sleepily, ‘You do that.’
Erik quickly made his way to Calis’s command tent, where he found Calis and de Loungville talking with Greylock, who had somehow found a pipe and tabac. Erik found the habit noxious, but had put up with it all his life; smoking was common enough in the taproom at the Inn of the Pintail, though it was discouraged when serious wine tasting was under way. For a moment, Erik wondered what had become of the fancy flint and steel lighter he had possessed back home.
‘What?’ asked de Loungville.
‘I’m going into the fort,’ said Erik, ‘if that’s all right. Luis is in there, and I think Biggo is there, too.’
De Loungville nodded. ‘Keep alert,’ he said with a dismissive wave.
Erik walked up the damp hillock upon which the fortress had been erected, and made his way along the perimeter until he reached the gate. It was still open and the guards on duty were almost asleep. A pair of Saaur, one wearing what Erik took to be an officer’s mark on his breastplate, were talking inside a hut at the gate, but they ignored him as he walked in.
De Loungville had called the fort a ‘classic’ motte-and-bailey, and Erik was fascinated by its construction. An earthen hill had been raised up and a tower built high upon it. Around this hill and tower, a large open area, the bailey, had been left, with the buildings nestled against the wall, sheltered by it. Suddenly it struck Erik that this is the sort of construction Calis had undertaken at Weanat, but on a much more modest scale. This tower could house a half-dozen bowmen with little discomfort, on a platform thirty feet above the ground. A fifteen-foot-high log wall had been erected around a small village, complete with wooden rampart and earthen reinforcement. An army would have little trouble with such a fortress, but most single companies would have had more than enough trouble to take such a fortification.
Inside there were a half-dozen buildings, all made of wood and covered with daub made from dried mud and straw. Smaller wattle-and-daub huts had sprung up around the larger buildings, and a fair-sized town had evolved. Erik could see why the Saaur at the gate had ordered them to remain outside; it was quite close inside this fortress.
He heard laughing and moved toward what he assumed would be an inn, and once inside he knew he had been correct. The room was dingy with smoke and poor light, but the stench of ale, spilled wine, and human perspiration struck Erik like a blow. Suddenly he was terribly homesick and wished to be nowhere so much as back at the Inn of the Pintail. He pushed down the sudden surge of feeling and made his way to the bar.
The barkeep, a stout man with a florid complexion, said, ‘What’ll it be?’
‘Got any good wine?’ asked Erik.
The man raised an eyebrow – everyone else seemed to be drinking ale or fortified spirits – but he nodded and produced a dark bottle from beneath the counter. The cork was intact, so Erik hoped the bottle was fresh and not resealed. Old wine tasted like vinegar mixed with raisins, but you couldn’t convince the average tavern keeper he couldn’t just stick the cork back in at the end of a day and unseal it again the next and not have his customers complain.
The barman produced a cup and poured. Erik sipped. The wine was sweeter than he would have liked, but not as cloying as the dessert wines made to the north of Yabon. Still, it was acceptable and he paid and indicated the barkeep should leave the bottle.
He glanced around the room and saw Biggo on the far side, trying to look inconspicuous and failing mightily. He leaned against the wall, behind a table where five men gamed with two Saaur. The lizard men were too large for their chairs, but they hunkered down as best they could and seemed intent upon the game. Erik recognized the sound of knucklebones, as they called dice here, rattling across the table and the accompanying shouts of the winners and groans of the losers.
After a few minutes. Dawar stood up and left the game. He came over to Erik and said, ‘Got a minute?’
Erik motioned to the barkeep for another cup and filled it. Dawar sipped and made a face. ‘Nothing like the wine from the grand vineyards of home, is it?’ he said.
‘Where’s home?’ asked Erik.
Dawar said, ‘Far from here. Let’s go outside for a minute.’
Erik picked up the bottle and let Dawar lead him outside into the fresh, cold night air. The man looked one way, then the other, and signaled for Erik to follow him around the corner, into a dark place next to the wall, sheltered above by the palisades.
‘Look, Corporal,’ began Dawar. ‘Let’s have an end to the mummery. You’re the company Nahoot was sent to keep from coming this way.’
‘What makes you think that?’ said Erik. ‘You’re the ones that jumped us.’
‘I wasn’t born this morning,’ said the man with a grin. ‘I know your Captain’s not your Captain, but the slender blond fellow is.’
‘What do you want?’
‘A way to get rich,’ said Dawar, a greedy glint in his eye.
‘How do you propose to do that?’ said Erik, moving his hand slowly down to his sword.
‘Look, I could maybe get myself a gold coin or two for telling Murtag you’re not who you say you are, but that’s a gold coin or two, and then I’m back looking for a company to join.’ He glanced around. ‘But I don’t like what I’m seeing lately, with this grand conquest. Too many men dying for too little gold. There’s not going to be much left of use to anyone if it keeps on, don’t you see? So I’m thinking I might be a help to you and your captain, but I’ll want more than wages and found.’
‘You’ll get ample chance for loot when we take Maharta,’ Erik said noncommittally.
Dawar took a step forward, lowering his voice. ‘How long do you think you can keep this up? You lot are not like any company I’ve seen, and I’ve been around more than most. You talk funny and you have the look of … I don’t know … some sort of soldiers, without the parade ground nonsense, but tough, like mercenaries. But whatever you are, you’re not what you want people to think you are, and it ought to be worth something for me to stay quiet.’
‘So that’s why you covered for us at the gate?’
‘Sure. Most of us look alike to the Saaur and Murtag’s pretty stupid – don’t make that mistake about most Saaur – which is why he’s stuck out here running this garrison and not with the main host. I figure I can turn you in any time, but I thought I’d first give you a chance to make me a better offer.’
‘I don’t know,’ Erik said, holding his wine cup to his lips with his left hand, while his right moved to the hilt of his sword.
‘Look, von Darkmoor, I’ll stick with you until the end, if the pay’s right. Now, why don’t you talk this over with Captain Calis –’
Suddenly a figure loomed up behind Dawar in the darkness, and large hands reached around and gripped him by the shoulders. They jerked him around, and as he spun, they grabbed the back of his head and his chin and forced it in the opposite direction, and with a loud crack, his neck was broken.
Erik had his sword out as Biggo stepped forward. ‘We found a spy,’ he whispered.
‘How could you be sure?’ hissed Erik, his heart pounding as he returned his sword to the scabbard.
‘I’m pretty sure no one’s called you von Darkmoor since we met up with this lot, but I damn well know no man’s called the Captain by name since then.’ Erik nodded. Strict orders had been passed not to mention Calis by name. ‘How would he know who you were?’
Erik’s heart sank. ‘I didn’t even notice.’
Biggo grinned in the faint light. ‘I won’t tell.’ He picked up Dawar’s body and hoisted it across his shoulder.
‘What are we going to do with him?’ asked Erik.
‘Why, we’re going to take him back to the camp. It wouldn’t be the first drunk carried out of here by his friends, I’m certain.’
Erik nodded, picked up the fallen wine cups and bottles, and motioned for Biggo to leave. Erik set the cups and empty bottle down next to the door and hurried after the large man.
For a tense moment Erik expected a challenge at the gate, but as Biggo had predicted, the guards thought nothing of one drunk cheerfully carrying another back to the camp.