Lord of Janissaries (109 page)

Rick had drunk too much beer and eaten too much beef and venison. He felt a little groggy, and knew only part of it was a proper meal after too many days in the saddle. The rest was trying to forget what he might have let his friends and allies in for, and particularly what Tylara might say:
You’ve allied with Westmen and traitors to boot.

It was that way every time they tried to talk. Within seconds she had found something to resent. Or he had. It was easier to avoid each other.
It can’t go on like this. The kids aren’t old enough to know what’s happening, but I think they feel it, and I know that damn clanswoman nanny of hers hates my guts.

When I get home we’re going to have it out. I tell her what I know, and she tells me why.

Clouds hid both the Firestealer and the Demon Sun, but Murphy had laid out lanterns, and the bonfire in the courtyard added more light. Rick glanced over the battlements at the dancing figures around the fire. It was amazing how much noise two drums, a lyre, and a set of pipes could make.

Alex Boyd reeled through a patch of firelight, a woman on each arm. Tonight all the unattached females of Westrook seemed to be making themselves available.
Alex shouldn’t have to take “no” for an answer tonight, and that’s one less damn thing to worry about. It sure wouldn’t hurt if somebody’s husband or father did pound on Volunteer Boyd good and hard.
Rick blearily realized that the others were waiting for him to speak.

“All right. We’ve got Westmen whether we like them or not. Like fleas. Murphy, what do the people around here think?”

“Well, some think the only good Westman is a dead one. Sir. But they don’t all feel that way. Mad Bear did his oath-swearing in front of a couple dozen village headmen and knights. Baldy did the interpreting. They trust him, you know. I taught him a lot of ‘star medicine’ and he’s delivered a lot of babies who wouldn’t have made it.”

“So they’re willing to let things ride as long as the Westmen behave?”

“That’s about it, sir. They will behave, too, while Mad Bear’s running things.”

“Okay. Next question. Suppose he dies. Or suppose his gods tell him not to make an alliance with us. What then?”

Murphy shrugged. “If Mad Bear dies, the Silver Wolves elect another chief, and we start over again.”

“The new chief wouldn’t be bound by Mad Bear’s oaths?”

“No, but he wouldn’t start a fight unless he was real dumb. Any new chief has to be an experienced warrior, and I don’t think any of them are stupid enough to fight star weapons or a castle.”

“And if the gods don’t come through?”

“Captain, your guess is as good as mine. One thing, though—I’m not going to force him and his people back to Walking Stone. We couldn’t if we wanted to, and they’d fight to the death if we ever tried.”

“Murphy—” Elliot began ominously.

Rick shook his head. “I wasn’t thinking of doing anything of the kind, Sergeant. Being a bheroman doesn’t give you the right to assume your CO’s an idiot.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Still, we can’t keep him and his people around here forever. Not enough good grazing land, for one thing. Besides, some hot-headed warrior or a villager with a grudge would make trouble sooner or later.”

Warner frowned. “Captain, I don’t know what your lady would say to giving away Chelm land—”

You certainly do, but thanks for being polite.
“Depends on what land.”

“Way down south. I went through there when I ran away from Parsons. That area’s going to get pretty warm, but there are springs. The land’s too rocky for farming but not for grazing. A bunch of hills, but nothing those little scrubs the Westmen ride couldn’t handle.”

“I know that area—is there Earth grass there? Horses can’t eat Tran scrub—”

“Westmen horses can,” Elliot said. “Have to have some grain too, but they make out.”

“Genetic drift?”

Elliot shrugged. “Don’t know, sir. But it’s for sure Westmen ponies can live awhile on Tran plants.”

“There’s Earth grass anyway,” Warner said.

Probably scattered broadside by the
Shalnuksis
a thousand years and more ago. They seemed to do that: bring in Earth plants and animals and turn them loose. It made a goofy ecology, but there’s always
some
kind of ecology. “That’s near the city-states,” Rick mused. “What the hell, if the city-states can’t handle three hundred Westmen, what are they good for?”

The other laughed. A servant filled their glasses again.

It’s still alienating Chelm land. Poor land, but Chelm land. I’ll have to get Tylara to buy off on that.
Anything else and there’d be trouble with the bheromen and knights. Not to mention Companion Morrone; his claim to Chelm was just as good or bad as ever, and now he had an experienced little army of his own. Making him a Marcher lord had made him tougher but not a whole lot smarter. He’d listen to an appeal from any bheromen who claimed the Eqeta was violating his oaths.
Another reason Tylara and I have to talk, if we didn’t have enough already.

“Okay, I can agree. In principle, anyway.” Rick shrugged. “We have to settle Mad Bear and his people somewhere safe.” Don’t even think the word “reservation,” and maybe you can avoid what usually happens when a nomadic people runs into a sedentary one.
If civilization survives and spreads on Tran, the Westmen are doomed; but maybe we can give them a more dignified end than the American Indians got.

And maybe Tylara will get down on her knees and beg your—

“Excuse me, Captain.” A servant stood at the head of the stairs. Murphy went to him and came back with a sealed message paper. Rick broke the seal.

“Christ!”

“Sir?” Elliot prompted.

Rick read the message aloud.

SUTMARG REGION INVADED BY HOST OF TA-MELTEMOS UNDER PRINCE STRYMON. HOST OF DRANTOS ASSEMBLING TO MEET IT. HAVE SUMMONED THE BAN IN THE NORTH. UNIDENTIFIED HORSEMEN IN THE HIGH CUMAC MAY BE SCOUTS FOR SECOND HOST OF HIGH REXJA. WANAX RETURNING FROM BENEVENUTUM. I LEAD THE VANGUARD OF DRANTOS NORTH TO MEET STRYMON. WITH RESPECT SUGGEST YOU REMAIN IN WEST TO MEET INVASION THERE.

MORRONE,

PROTECTOR OF THE SOUTHERN MARCHES

ACTING CAPTAIN GENERAL

TYLARA DO TAMAERTHON, EQETASSA OF CHELM

JUSTICIAR OF DRANTOS

* * *

“Has that little bastard gone crazy?” Mason said.

“No. At least not yet,” Rick amended. “With both me and Ganton away from Edron and Armagh, he’s the highest-ranking officer around. He’s sure got the authority to summon the host and lead it north.” Rick thought for a moment. “Fact is, I think he’s right. Strymon moves fast. Give him half a chance and he’ll be through the Sutmarg and into the south in no time. If Morrone moves fast enough he may be able to bottle him up long enough for us to get the Romans into the picture.”

“If they’ll help,” Mason said quietly.

“Yeah.”
They have to.
“Sergeant Major.”

“Sir.”

“There’s a hell of a lot we need to know. What’s Strymon got? How did he get into the Sutmarg without any kind of fight?”

“Maybe—”

“Maybe. Exactly. Everything’s a maybe. We need information. Now.”

“I’ll get patrols out.”

“Send enough that they can leave messenger relays. I want to know things fast. This is a good time to try that new heliograph system.”

“Sure,” Elliot said. “I’ll send back to Armagh to have a team meet us north of here.”

“Right. We’re going to have to make a visit to Armagh ourselves, but it’s best to get them started. Murphy.”

“Yes, sir—”

Rick stood up. His head felt clearer. “Murphy, Westrook is now the Captain General’s temporary GHQ. I want the semaphore manned around the clock. Ban and arriere-ban, and full patrols north and east. Look for these ‘mysterious horsemen.’ They may be garbled reports of your Westmen, and they may be some of Strymon’s light cavalry. Find out. Send steady troops. We need live witnesses, not dead heroes.”

“Sir! Uh— Cap’n?”

“Yeah?”

“Ban and arriere-ban, and I’ve got nobody to plow and plant.”

“Christ, Murphy, you think he don’t know that?” Elliot demanded.

“It’s all right, Top. Murphy, I don’t expect you to keep everybody mobilized all summer, but it can’t hurt to muster them and see what they’ve got.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I have to get back to Dravan. This place is too far west for a main base. When you get organized here, send me what you can spare. I’ll have to leave that up to you.”

“I’ll have a lot after we get the crops planted,” Murphy said. “Not much I can send you until then.”

“Yeah, I know that. Next. If the gods tell Mad Bear he can join us, send him as escort for some of our hussars. If he doesn’t join up, you’ll have to escort him out of our territory. South. Be polite when you tell him, but he joins us or he goes.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Bisso, Warner, you take five troopers and half the Guards back to Edron. Make sure that you take Sniper MacAllister and at least one more of Gengrich’s men. Not Boyd, he stays here.”

Elliot looked pained.

“Okay, I know you rely on Bisso, but it can’t be helped.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Warner, when you get to Edron, assess the strategic situation. Consult Gwen. You’re authorized to evacuate the University and escort what you can to Edron. Use the Guards, and if you can get any of Drumold’s people to help, do it. Bisso, you’re field commander. Warner calls the shots, but you’re in charge outside the walls. You’ll also be Acting Provost of the University.”

Rick watched Larry Warner for signs of resentment, but saw none.
Maybe he’s learning.

“Yes, sir.” Bisso didn’t look too happy.

Rick suppressed a grin. Independent command was always a nice dream until it turned into a real hot potato.
And it’s time we promoted some more NCOs to officer status.

Of course they already were, as far as the locals were concerned. Star Lords. Brave wise men from the sky. Hah.

“Do the University people fight?” Warner asked.

“Not unless you have to, but it’s likely you’ll have to,” Rick said. “You know the situation better than me, but I’d guess some of the minor clans are going to see this as a great opportunity.”

“I hate to abandon the place—”

“Warner, the University is its people. Buildings are easy to come by. Trained personnel aren’t. And Gwen’s not replaceable at all.”
There, I’ve said it.

No one argued with him.

“And me, Colonel?” Art Mason asked.

“Stand by. We’ll all be going to Dravan as soon as possible, and after that somebody’ll have to collect the ammo from the dump at Armagh. And see to the
surinomaz
.”

“That’s you or me, Colonel,” Mason said.

“Yeah.” Rick thought of the long ride to Dravan, and even farther to Armagh, and shuddered.

“Anything else?” Mason asked.

“Not that I think of.” For the moment he needed to hit the latrine. As he headed for the stairs, he heard Warner tell Murphy, “Hey, Ben, it just hit me. Once we’ve won, we give Mad Bear land in the Five Kingdoms.”

Bloody hell, he thought. They all have such complete confidence in me. Yeah, and sooner or later my luck will run out, and what then?

What now? Everything’s hanging on a thread, and Tylara acts like she’s afraid of me. That’s a mess that can still wreck everything.

What’s a hero? A track star with no place to run. That’s me, all right.

19

The wind moaned across the hilltop and the corpses swung from the long gallows erected there. Some of the corpses still had faces—faces as grey as the sky overhead. Tylara shivered. The wind seemed to blow through her, and the corpses seemed to beckon her to join them.

Wait a little, my friends. The gods will give their judgment soon enough. Do not do what I have done. Do not think that you know better than the gods.

“The one in chains is Carlga the Smith,” her guide said. “He tried to send warning of Lord Ajacias’ treachery, but was caught and tortured for the name of the message-bearer. He died rather than betray the man.”

And Carlga’s son rode in the Guards. He would have a bleak homecoming.

“He will be avenged,” Tylara said, the same way she might have said, “It is raining.” The Christians spoke of leaving vengeance to God, but there were some things honorable men could not entrust to God or Vothan. One was to leave Ajacias unhanged and his sty of a castle standing.