Demontech: Rally Point: 2 (Demontech Book 2) (17 page)

A sergeant of another military, even if he was a captain, could only be allowed to get away with so much. Spinner planted his fists on his hips and stuck his face inches from Stonearm’s.

“That ‘ragtag band’ beat off a larger force of bandits that had your guardsmen so frightened they stood back and watched rather than join in the fight.”

“Your band only won because you and that giant crashed through the bandits. And they didn’t run until my horsemen got there.”

“The way I saw it,” Haft snarled, “they were already running when your horsemen finally showed up.”

They glared at each other for a tense moment, then Captain Stonearm burst into laughter and clapped a powerful hand on each of their shoulders. “Now that you’re called Marines, you Frangerians are even
more
arrogant than before! Calm down, I was just testing you. Anybody can put on a uniform. If you didn’t react like you did, I would have suspected you weren’t what you say you are.” He grinned and held out a hand to shake. “I was a sergeant in the Easterlies Household Guard myself, before I decided to retire someplace where it was warm all the time.

“Now, tell us about your meeting with the bandits,” Stonearm changed the subject.

They told the story without embellishment and briefly answered all questions the captain and the mayor asked.

When they were through, Stonearm said, “Those are the Rockhold Band, our local bandits, all right. But what happened to that Blood Swords captain after he left you?”

“We don’t know. I wanted to ask you if he was here,” Spinner replied.

“No, I haven’t seen or heard of him. Lord Mayor, have you?”

The mayor shook his head, he’d neither seen nor heard of the Skragland officer before this.

“Now, do you have a copy of that famous
Lord Gunny Says
with you, and does it say anything about what to do in a situation like this?” Stonearm changed the subject again.

Captain Stonearm and the mayor had no doubts, they were certain the bandits would come back—and in larger numbers. When they came back, both said, the bandits would not only attack the outlander party that had fought and beaten them twice already, they would attack the town itself. Beyond that they were in complete disagreement. Stonearm wanted to prepare to defend the town; the mayor insisted that if the outlanders left right away, the bandits would leave the town alone when they came.

“That is a bad idea,” Stonearm growled. “The way they’ll see it, we harbored these people. If they aren’t here for the bandits to fight, they’ll attack us instead. More, I think it’s about time we put paid to them.”

“Captain!” the mayor snapped. “I am Lord Mayor here. I have lived in this area all my life. I have dealt with these bandits the entire time I have been Lord Mayor. You are a newcomer. I know how the bandits think and what they will do. You know nothing. You,” he turned to Spinner and Haft, “must leave immediately.”

“Marines never run from a fight,” Haft said harshly.

“With all due respect to your position and experience, Lord Mayor,” Spinner said more calmly, “I suspect Captain Stonearm is right. We’ve done the bandits severe hurt—not just once, but twice. They’ll want vengeance. And I think Captain Stonearm is right when he says if we aren’t here when they show up they’ll take their revenge on you. Besides,” he glanced toward the pavilion where the wounded were being treated, “we have wounded who can’t be safely moved yet.”

“I tell you the bandits
won’t
attack us if you aren’t here!” the mayor shouted, wide-eyed. “They wouldn’t harm themselves so.
I
am Lord Mayor,
I
give the orders. Captain Stonearm, you will escort these people out of town and send them on their way.” A wicked grin slashed across his face. “Send them to the south.”

Haft started to draw his axe, but Spinner stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Are you ready to fight
us
before you’re attacked by the bandits?” Spinner asked coldly.

Stonearm turned his back on the mayor and looked over the landscape. “We better start preparing defenses,” he said.

“Captain, you are dismissed!” the mayor shrilled. He spun toward a nearby squad of swordsmen. “Arrest him!” The swordsmen looked uncertainly at one another and their commander.

Stonearm studied the mayor for a long moment, then said, “Lord Mayor, when I contracted to command the Eikby Guard, it was not with the expectation that I would run away the first time danger threatened. Nor did I expect to be in league with bandits.” He turned to the squad of swordsmen, who still had not made a move toward him and calmly addressed their sergeant. “Assemble the guard in company formation. We need to start getting ready.”

The sergeant looked from Stonearm to the mayor and back, thought matters over, and concluded that he liked his commander and his commander’s ideas better than he did the mayor and his. He looked at his men; they looked like they were ready to do anything he told them to. Eikby had been too poor for too long because of the bandits.

“Immediately, Captain,” the sergeant said, and sent all but two of his men running to the other squads to assemble them. He looked pointedly at the mayor, ready to arrest him if ordered to do so.

The mayor paled. “This is insubordination,” he croaked. “Worse, it is mutiny. I will see you hanged for it. All of you!” He twisted about and stalked rigidly to his waiting carriage.

“What is that all about?” Spinner asked when the mayor was gone.

“Later. We have to start on the defenses.”

According to
The Manual for Sea Soldiers
, the only totally untenable defensive position was one the defenders refused to defend. Eikby’s defenders seemed willing—at least their commander and some of the guardsmen were—but it certainly seemed that the mayor didn’t
want
the town to be defended. What the townspeople thought was anybody’s guess at first.

The land created problems for defenders. To begin with, it was nearly perfectly flat—the only high ground was garden compost piles, and all the low ground was underwater in ponds, streams, and a few irrigation ditches. There wasn’t a single guardhouse unless they counted the barracks on the town square, neither was there a watch tower other than the bell tower on the town hall. The outermost houses were too widely scattered to join together as defensive works, and too flimsy to use even if they’d been closer together. There weren’t any fences.

“We need fences that will break up charges,” Spinner said.

“And channel the attackers into killing zones,” Haft added.

Captain Stonearm pulled a map of Eikby from a pouch on his belt and, kneeling, spread it on the ground. “Here, here, and here are good places for fences,” he said as he drew lines with a blunt finger. “Not only will fences there be good at channeling attackers, they won’t be disruptive to farming because they follow the borders of different fields.” While he talked he indicated more places to build fences. “I need a stylus,” he muttered. Then to the leader of the horse squad, “Fetch Plotniko and Stupnikow to me.”

The horse sergeant saluted and said, “Immediately, Captain.” He mounted up and cantered toward the town.

“Here are a stylus and ink, Captain.” Doli moved into the circle next to Spinner, close enough that their arms brushed. She offered the writing implements to Stonearm. In a few strokes, he marked where he wanted fences.

While they waited for Plotniko and Stupnikow, Eikby’s master carpenter and master builder, Spinner and Haft introduced Fletcher to Stonearm. Then they set their men in the best defensive positions they could in the open ground. They also sent out several strong security patrols to the west and north. By the time they were done, Plotniko and Stupnikow arrived. There was still no sign of Silent and Wolf.

Plotniko and Stupnikow examined the map carefully.

“This is a lot of fencing, it will take ten days or more for the carpenters to construct these fences,” Plotniko said.

“I don’t think we have ten days,” Captain Stonearm said somberly. “We need more than just the carpenters and wood cutters building the fences. The farmers will have to help, and the husbandmen, too.”

“We can do it if we put everybody on the fences,” Stupnikow agreed. “But if we do, who will weed the fields and tend the flocks?”

Stonearm snorted. “If we don’t build the fences in time, we won’t need to worry about weeding the fields or tending the flocks.”

Stupnikow looked at the guard captain somberly. “You’re right. I will line up work crews now.”

“Will they come when you tell them why?” Stonearm asked.

“They will come,” Plotniko said. “This is rich land, the people are tired of being poor. Now, I’ll assemble the carpenters and woodsmen to get started on the stakes.” He followed Stupnikow back into the town.

“Now tell us about the mayor,” Spinner said when the masters were gone. “And why does the town seem so poor in such a rich land?”

Stonearm sighed. “He’s afraid, and with good reason. The mayor and my predecessor had an arrangement with the Rockhold Band. They paid the bandits a ‘tax’—a tribute—of food and supplies, including the entire production of two arrowsmiths. That’s why the town is poor, its wealth goes to the bandits. In return the bandits promised not to raid Eikby—so long as the town didn’t build any defenses.”

“Then why did he think we might be a bandit raiding party when we showed up?” Spinner asked.

Stonearm spat to the side. “The woodsmen who first saw you didn’t recognize you so they thought maybe you were a different band. We heard this morning that the Rockhold Band lost a fight yesterday. So he thought maybe a new bandit band was moving in to take over.”

“You’ve got soldiers,” Haft said. “Why didn’t you go after the bandits instead of paying tribute?”

Stonearm barked out a short laugh. “You saw my soldiers. Have you ever seen a sorrier excuse for an army? All they’re good for is parades.” He sighed again. “I have to take blame for that, but I’m only accepting
part
of the blame.” He looked around to make sure nobody could overhear. “I’ve only been here for a few months. I’m the only full-time soldier in the guard. Except for their ceremonial duties, the mayor has only let me have the guardsmen one day a month for training. ‘They have their occupations and families to look after,’ he says when I tell him I need time to train them. ‘We don’t need a real army,’ he says.” He spat again. “I’ve tried and tried to get him to see the fallacy in his thinking. All I’ve accomplished is, I was close to losing this nice, cushy job of mine even before now.” He shook his head. “Some retirement I picked for myself.” He looked around.

“
Your
soldiers, on the other hand, I recognize some of their uniforms. You’ve got Zobran Border Wardens and Lancers, Skraglander Guards and Blood Swords, and sea soldiers of at least two or three different nations. Those Bloody Axes are impressive.
Your
men know how to fight, I know that. Even most of your men who aren’t wearing uniforms carry themselves like veterans—like Fletcher here. Plus, you’ve got a war magician, and I heard you’ve got that steppe giant, though I haven’t seen him myself. Still, there aren’t enough of you to defeat the Rockhold Band.” He sadly shook his head.

“How many sol—guardsmen do you have?” Spinner asked.

“Four dozen. If I’d been allowed to train them properly, between my four dozen and your—how many do you have, four score?—we could beat these bandits. But mine are about worthless without help.”

“Are they willing to fight?” Haft asked.

“Willing? They seem to be. But who knows if they can? They’ve never had to, and I’ve had precious little opportunity to train them.”

“If the bandits in this area really are joining together to come after us, they’ll have to—unless they want to simply surrender. And our men aren’t enough to win against three hundred without help.”

“I know. And if we don’t help you defeat them, when they’re finished with you, they’ll burn the town because we didn’t destroy you ourselves.”

Spinner looked over the town’s area. It was far too large for even sixscore fighters to defend more than part of it against that large a force, even if it was surrounded by a stout, high palisade with a fighting step on its inside; there was simply too great a perimeter to defend with fewer than five hundred men. And even if they could that would leave all of the crop and grazing land open to the bandits.

“You have woodsmen and hunters,” he said. “Do any of them know how to fight?”

“A few probably do, but as individuals, not as part of a unit. Few men from the hinterlands of the Princedons ever go abroad to join foreign armies, so there are hardly any veterans in Eikby. Those bandits will likely be here in less than four days, possibly in only two or three. That
might
be long enough to get those fences up, and build a few barricades, but it’s nowhere near enough time to get all the potential fighters organized and even partly trained in unit tactics.”

Haft whistled. “Four days? It takes four
months
to give a civilian enough training for him to get to the point where he can
begin
learning how to be a Frangerian Marine.”

“We don’t need Marines,” Spinner told him, “we just need soldiers.”

Stonearm chuckled. “Arrogant bastards! I think that’s part of why you’re so good. You believe you’re the best, and so does just about everybody else. That’s half the fight.”

“It’s easy to believe the truth,” Haft said.

“How much will the mayor interfere?” Spinner asked, ignoring him.

“He’s probably back in town right now, threatening people, trying to coerce everyone into not cooperating with us.”

“Do you think he’ll succeed?”

“Plotniko and Stupnikow came immediately when I sent for them. They sounded confident when they went to get the people they need for the work.” Stonearm shrugged. “We’ll know soon enough.”

Spinner continued looking around; he couldn’t decide how to begin training the guards and anyone else who might be willing to fight. He was afraid they wouldn’t have enough time for even the most rudimentary training. “We need something to slow the bandits down, a way to delay their attack by a few days. But what?”