CHAPTER FOUR
MOVING OUT
It was as near noon as anything was on Tran. The True Sun stood an hour past overhead, while the Firestealer had an hour to go. Rick had learned that sun time has a different meaning when there is more than one sun.
Rick sat in the vestibule of his command tent. All around him the army was packing gear. Knots of men stood near the battlefield, gesticulating wildly as they tried to make an even division of the spoils and trophies of the battle. Beyond them at the central encampment there were shouts and curses as each group tried to claim what it thought was a fair share of supplies and provisions, wagons and packhorses. Nothing was packed and ready to go.
“So just how long until we can get on the road?” Rick demanded.
Sergeant Bisso shook his head.
“We’re ready, but as to the others, damfino. Jesus, Colonel, what a mess, never thought there’d be this much trouble just breaking camp!”
“In war, everything is very simple, but the simplest things are very difficult,” Rick said. “Clausewitz, who knew what he was talking about.”
“Whole damn army’s coming apart,” Larry Warner said. “And I have a message from Lady Tylara. She says the Second Light Cavalry from Chelm wants to go with you.”
“Why not, they’re from the Littlescarp,” Rick said. “That’s their home, and Tylara’s their colonel—”
“Sure, Skipper,” Warner said, “but Ganton wants them with him. Ordered Lady Tylara to turn over command to one of his barons. Can’t blame him much, he’s learned how bad he needs scouts and those nobles don’t like the job.”
“Only his barons never did like having peasant-class horsemen with the army,” Bisso said. “And peasant-class officers they hate like the plague. Which brings us to the artillery and cannon company.”
“Oh,” Rick said. The light cavalry officers were yeomen freeholders. Not quite peasants, but the Tran aristocracy tended to regard them as no better. Worse, from their view, if an able man showed enough initiative, Tylara had learned that it was better not to inquire too closely into his father’s status. Born bound or born free, good officers were hard to find. And all of the artillery troops, whatever their rank, were from the cities, free men, middle class. Of course that wasn’t the term the nobility used. They’d talk about townsmen and burgher, when they were being polite. Usually they had ruder terms. Tylara’s clansman background gave her a different attitude from the other great lords of Drantos, but it had taken even her a lot of effort to accept the notion of middle-class officers mixing with the hereditary baronage.
“The nobility hasn’t ever liked the gunners to begin with,” he said.
“Can’t blame them,” Warner said. “Those ironheads aren’t that stupid, they can see that middle-class gunners are their class enemy.”
Rick nodded.
“‘Nay, said the cannoneer, firing from the wall. For iron, cold iron, shall be master of you all.’ A lesson the Drantos chivalry hasn’t quite learned, but they’re beginning to get the picture. So what’s the problem? The scouts and gunners want to go home, and the Great Lords of the Realm don’t want them in the army in the first place. Sounds like the problems solve themselves.”
“Yeah, except you taught that kid king of theirs too well,” Sergeant Bisso said. “He knows damn well he’s never going to beat the Five Kingdoms with heavy cavalry alone. He hasn’t got enough to begin with, and it’s odds on the Five Kingdoms troops are every bit as good as his. Better if Strymon leads them.”
Warner nodded agreement.
“If Wanax Ganton is going to win this new campaign the barons have their hearts set on, he’ll need a combined arms army. Only he hasn’t got one. Drumold’s taking the clansmen home, you’re taking the scouts and gunners—what’s he got left besides the chivalry? Some of his native pikes, some hired crossbows, and the Royal Guard, but hell, even they look to you for leadership.”
“Here she comes,” Bisso said.
Tylara rode up, her expression grim.
“The Wanax demands use of our Chelm Light Cavalry,” she said. “Rudhrig’s son Guy is to command.”
“Good choice,” Bisso said.
“Sergeant, I agree that Guy is as suitable as anyone, but these are Chelm troops!”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Bisso said.
There was a tiny twist of a smile on the sergeant’s lips. So how much does he know? Rick wondered. Warner knows it all, but Bisso was never in on the full story of Tylara and her child assassins. He has to have guessed some of it. And I don’t dare ask.
“How did you leave this?” Rick asked Tylara, and she frowned.
“It was a direct order from the Wanax,” she said. “I did not think it wise to defy him, so I said nothing and came to you.”
“You know better than that,” Rick said. He thought of the phrase about rape and inevitability, then caught himself before he could say it. Tylara had been raped, and worse, by Sarakos, and while she might agree with the vulgar phrase— “You taught me better.”
“So we submit? And thus I am to be gracious?” she demanded.
“Do we have a choice?” Rick asked.
“Yes,” Tylara said. She looked to Warner and Bisso. “Do you not agree? You are all the counsel we have. Advise us.”
“I ain’t no officer, Ma’am,” Bisso protested, shaking his head. “Skipper, tell me who to shoot, and I’ll get the job done, but don’t ask me!”
“It won’t come to shooting,” Larry Warner said. “Lady Tylara’s right about that. If you refuse this request, the Wanax will find a reason to withdraw it. The problem won’t come today, it’ll be the long-term relations with the Wanax you’ll have to worry about. Chelm, you’re okay there, that’s damn near self-sufficient and you’ve got enough to defend it. But I can tell you this, an open break with Ganton would sure cause problems for the University.”
Tylara put her hand to her mouth as if in surprise. It was a gesture Rick had never seen her use before, but it reminded him of someone. Gwen Tremaine sometimes did that. Thinking about the University could naturally lead to thoughts about Rector Gwen Tremaine, but why imitate her? Now what was Tylara up to? Or maybe her subconscious was sending a signal?
“I had not thought of that,” Tylara said. There was no need to talk about the importance of the University. Everyone there was long ago agreed on that. But the University was in a critical location, in the hills where the borders of Drantos, the Roman Empire, and the Tamaerthan clan territories came together. It was nominally in clan commons land, but it would be no great trick for either Rome or Drantos to find precedent for a claim. So long as Rick’s alliance of Rome, Tamaerthan, and Drantos held, that had been the right place, but now—
“What about the clans?” Rick said. “What does an open break with Ganton do to Tamaerthan?”
“No great harm, I think,” Tylara said. “The clans have never had lasting alliance with Drantos. The new plows are bringing in greater harvests, and this when the growing seasons will be longer due to the Demon. Independence from Drantos lowers trade but it is no great hardship so long as there is peace with Rome. My Lord Husband, my father tells me some of the Drantos lords have been boasting of past conquests within our borders. Lord Warner, you were present, I believe.”
“Yes, My Lady,” Larry Warner said. “It was mostly just talk. By nobody important.”
“But the Wanax allowed it,” Tylara said. “He did not forbid it.”
“No, Ma’am, he didn’t,” Warner said. “He let them babble on.”
“Including a boast that Drantos once ruled the Garioch as well as the lowlands?”
“Yes,” Warner said. “And that’s one thing that’s got me worried about the University.”
“Christ on a crutch,” Rick said.
“Do not blaspheme. And Ganton is married to the Roman heiress,” Tylara said. “Drantos alone is no great threat, but the clans have ever had one fear, that Rome and Drantos would unite against them. Now—”
“All the more reason not to cause an open break, I’d say,” Rick said. “Right now Ganton needs us, and it’s not going to make him need us less to let him borrow our light cavalry troops.”
Bisso nodded.
“Time’s on our side, Skipper. And we’re running low on ammo; if we have to fight I’d sure rather do it after the next supply shipment from Earth. So would the troops.”
Rick nodded.
“Tylara, you wanted advice, I think you just got it. We do what it takes to avoid an open break with Ganton.”
It was her turn to nod.
“I will ride back and be gracious,” she said. “And endure the smiles and winks.” She mounted, waved, and rode off, a dozen household troops falling in behind her. She didn’t need the protection here, but a great countess required an escort, even in camp.
“So what happens when the king asks for us?” Sergeant Bisso said. He gestured to indicate the Earth mercenaries taking their ease next to their packed-up gear and weapons. “He will, you know, and pretty soon, too. He’s going to need his star weapon troops if he expects to get anywhere invading the north.”
Rick nodded.
“I know. But not yet, not until we run Ailas off.”
“Maybe,” Warner said. “And maybe he’s just working up his nerve. He’s still a little scared of you.”
“Of Tylara, more like,” Rick said. “So what other problems have we got?”
“What don’t we have?” Warner said as he looked through his notebook. “Let’s see. We assumed Sergeant Clavell was with the Nikeis forces when they arrived. Turns out he’s not.”
Rick frowned.
“Where the hell is Clavell, then? And what about Private Harrison? Didn’t we send him with Clavell?”
Sergeant Clavell and Private Harrison had been sent as ambassadors to Nikeis as part of a “medicine show” routine to spread the word about hygiene and sanitation. When reports came back about crop yields on the island, Rick had them arrange for shipments of seagull guano to the University.
“Yes, Sir. We did. This whole battle was thrown together in confusion, particularly after your wife was captured. I wouldn’t be surprised if Clavell and Harrison are still back in Nikeis. I don't know if there was time for troops to come from the island. It’s been a while since we heard from them, though. I’ll look into it, but I suspect the halberdier regiment was from their colony on the coast, Terra Firma.”
“Please do,” Rick replied. “We can’t afford to lose track of our people.”
“It gets weirder. The Nikeisian infantry marched off in a huff, something about unequal division of the spoils. Rudhrig claimed they didn’t do enough fighting to warrant a full share per man, and the last I saw their captain was shaking the dust off his feet in the general direction of Ganton. After he did it, all his troops did too.”
Rick frowned.
“Does that have the Biblical meaning in Nikeis?”
“The Nikeisians are Christians,” Warner said. “Claim they always have been. From what I can see they’re pretty straightforward Roman Catholic. No pope, of course.”
“So we can guess where they got that ritual,” Rick said. “But despite the new Unification religion, there aren’t many Bibles in Drantos.”
“Yeah, and they’re all in Latin,” Warner said.
Rick didn’t ask how Warner knew that. Back in Africa the troops had called Larry Warner “Professor” and that stuck well enough that he was now Provost of the University when he wasn’t called into active duty. It would be like Warner to know.
“So Ganton won’t know they’ve just cursed him?”
“Not sure they have,” Warner said. “But it looks like that’s what they meant. They sure went away mad.”
“Christian,” Rick mused. “Allied to Rome, then?”
“No,” Warner said. “They’ve got their own Patriarch, and from what I heard their chaplain wasn’t all that thrilled about the new Unification. They’re nominal allies of Drantos, but they trade with Rome and the Five Kingdoms and everybody else, and they seem willing to let their trade partners think part of the trade is tribute if that makes people feel better.”
“Who the heck are these people?” Rick asked, and Warner looked to the sky for answers.
“I never thought about it a lot, Skipper, but if I had to guess I’d say Crusade-era Venice. Probably pretty late Crusade era, from the little we know about their government’s setup. Maybe early thirteenth century?”
Rick frowned.
“Does that fit? There wasn’t a Demon Star passage in crusader times, was there?”
“Well, that’s not the only anomaly,” Warner said. “Been meaning to talk to you about that—”
“Not to interrupt a good conversation, Colonel,” Bisso said. “But it’s getting late, and we got problems a lot closer to home.”
Rick nodded.
“Okay. But get messages off to our people in Nikeis and find out what’s going on and what they’ve been up to. I want a report as soon as possible, and they’re authorized to use the semaphore and message riders to speed it along.” When Bisso nodded, Rick said, “And what other cheerful news do you have for me?”
“Drumold,” Bisso said. “Your father-in-law is fit to be tied. Claims he’s getting the short end of the stick on rations. Not enough to get home, he said.”
“And you know what that means,” Warner said. “Them clansmen sure as hell won’t starve.”
Not going home through the wealthiest section of Drantos, they wouldn’t. Borderer clansmen were quite adept at foraging for themselves. Surely Ganton knew that?
“Do you think this is deliberate?” Rick asked. “Put them in a situation where they have to steal to live, and then accuse them?”
“Skipper, it sure don’t make sense to goad the clans into a fight,” Warner said as he shook his head. “He’s going to need those archers and pikemen every bit as much as he needs us.”
“Some of the barons think they’ll get them as conscripts,” Bisso said. “Conquer the clan territories, and conscript the troops. Cheaper that way.”
“Jesus, are they that stupid?” Rick asked. “Conscript archers?”
“Yeah, some of them ironheads are dumber’n a box of rocks,” Bisso said.
“Ganton isn’t.”
“No, Sir, maybe not, but then we don’t know what his game is,” Bisso said. “He sure wasn’t acting too bright this morning.”
“Or maybe he was,” Warner said. “And we just don’t know what he was after.”
“It’s a damned dangerous game,” Rick mused, and Warner laughed.
“Skipper, tell me what we do that won’t fit that description?”
“Yeah. Okay, let’s get our troops on the road. The longer we stay here the better the chance our young Wanax will decide he wants something else we can’t give him,” Rick said. “We’ll deal with Drumold’s rations later. Get ’em saddled up.”
Warner grinned.
“Yes, Sir. Head ’em up, move ’em out.”
“Rawhide,” Rick said. “And which one of us grows up to be Dirty Harry?”