War, however, had taught them something far different: reality.
Asayaga whispered, ‘We must gain a position where if we do kill their captain and the scout word will somehow get back that it was us, that it was our Clan that did such a deed ; that it was our sacrifice, otherwise Sugama’s family and Clan will create a different tale. Even at the cost of our entire company, to end the ravages of Hartraft’s Marauders would bring glory to our house. But only if the Kodeko are given the credit.’
‘Which would prove difficult with the Minwanabi relaying the word back to the home world,’ Tasemu observed.
‘A good reason, my friend,’ Asayaga added wryly, ‘to get us out of this alive. Then we can carry word home ourselves.’
‘Alliance with the Kingdom troops, captain?’ Tasemu asked. ‘By all the gods if word of that ever gets back it will be just as bad as if word never gets back. You will be denounced as a coward for not taking their heads when you had the chance, or it will be seen as tantamount to surrender.’ Tsurani soldiers didn’t surrender; on their homeworld it meant slavery and dishonour. Better to die with a sword in one’s hand than live a life of shame.
‘Are you so eager to die, Strike Leader Tasemu?’
Tasemu looked as if he had been gravely insulted.
Asayaga chuckled and gripped his shoulder. ‘We’re alike,’ he whispered, ‘we want to get out of this with heads still on our shoulders as well. A dead man serves his house for a very limited time.’
Tasemu smiled and laughed softly, shaking his head. His friend had played the old game, indirectly leading in one direction, but in fact seeking the answer he had just received. ‘True. I don’t appreciate someone like Sugama urging me to get myself killed for honour’s sake,’ he replied, rubbing the patch that covered his blind eye. ‘Given a choice, I’d rather defer such honours to him and lead a long life in obscurity.’ His smile faded. ‘But, he’s got more than one lad ready to pull a blade and use it on any pretence. Whatever you do, you’d better do it soon, Force Commander.’
Asayaga sighed. ‘Keep the watch.’
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He slipped down the ladder and returned to the barracks. Though he would never admit it he was glad to have the errand, it would mean several minutes of warmth.
That was one thing about this damnable world he could never get used to. Of all the places to open a rift to, it had to be here, to a place where the water froze in the air. He resolved, as he had almost every night since the war had started, that the first thing he would do once it was over was to go home, find a sun-drenched beach on the Sea of Blood, and swim in the warm breakers, then lie on the sand, letting the heat soak into his weary bones. His family had a small home on the bluffs overlooking the ocean in Lash Province, near the city of Xula. He had not been there since entering training, but if he ever returned home, that is where he planned to travel first after seeing his younger brother.
As he reached the door to the barracks, he wondered if he would ever again experience the salt spray cutting through the hot dry winds, rich with the pungent, sweet aroma of jicanji blossoms, the brilliant orange flowers that bloomed on the floating kelp beyond the breakers for only a few days each year.
He pushed the door open and stepped in. The air was fetid with the stench of warm bodies and wet wool, boiling stew, stinking foot-wrappings and open wounds, banishing all memory of blossoms and salt spray. He cast a quick glance at the wounded lying in the corner. Osami, one of his youngest looked at him, trying to act stoic.
He knelt down by the boy’s side.
‘Their robed one drew the arrow,’ the boy said.
‘I know.’
‘Why would he do such a thing?’
‘Perhaps they are crazy,’ Asayaga offered.
‘I’ll walk, you know, Force Commander. I will keep up.’
Asayaga placed a reassuring hand on the boy’s shoulder and squeezed it. He said nothing. It was not proper to offer false hopes and the boy should realize that. If he could not run then he must die. If he had sufficient courage he could wait for the enemy and try to kill one, but the chances of being captured, and the torture that awaited was more than any man could be asked to endure, let alone a boy. Or, he could close his eyes, bare his throat and let a comrade give him release.
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If necessary Asayaga knew that task would fall upon him. The boy had friends, for many of the old veterans viewed him as something of a little brother, an eager youngster still desperate for glory. The fact that they cared so much for him would make cutting his throat difficult for them, though none would hesitate if asked; they were Tsurani. But no man would welcome the task, even if it spared the lad and his family shame. Asayaga pushed the thought away. Time enough before dawn to discuss with the boy a proper and fitting manner of death.
He caught a glimpse of Sugama, squatting by the fire, a knot of men around him, whispering. Occasionally one would look up, gazing over at the Kingdom troops. The rush for food and warmth had mingled them, but now the two sides had drawn apart and Asayaga could sense the mounting tension.
‘It will explode soon.’
He had not noticed Dennis, who had been sitting on one of the bunks, sword drawn, blade resting on his knees. He was casually rubbing the sword down with an oiled rag, but that was a cover: he wanted his blade out, ready for instant use.
Asayaga hesitated, tempted to draw his own blade before approaching, but knew that such a gesture would cause the room to erupt.
Would this man betray him? It could be a trap, once into strike range the captain, with one back-handed blow, could take him.
These Mauraders were famed for such trickery.
He realized there was no way out. If he turned and run away it would be a signal of fear, or perhaps read as a sign that he was about to rally his own men on watch.
Dennis stared at him intently.
‘When I take you, it will be in a fair and open fight,’ the leader of the Kingdom troops said, his words loud enough so that all in the barracks hall fell silent, heads turned.
Some of Asayaga’s men stood, not understanding the words, thinking that a challenge had been offered.
‘Now,’ Sugama hissed, ‘our honour is at stake!’
‘Tell your boy over there to calm down,’ Dennis said, pitching his voice low, ‘or my sergeant will silence him permanently.’
Asayaga spared a quick glance past Dennis. Leaning against the far 91
wall was a short, stocky soldier, his appearance casual as he rested against the stone fireplace directly behind Sugama; but his right hand was behind his back, most likely holding a dagger.
Asayaga slowly raised his hand, giving the signal for silence. All of his men responded, except for Sugama who stood up.
Asayaga could see Dennis from the corner of his eye. The man tensed and Asayaga knew that a mere nod of the head, a single gesture and the sergeant behind Sugama would have his blade buried to the hilt in Sugama’s back.
‘Force Leader,’ Asayaga hissed, looking straight at Sugama. The menace in his voice carried the warning and Sugama hesitated. ‘Turn slowly and look behind you.’
Sugama’s gaze broke away from Asayaga and he turned cautiously.
The Kingdom sergeant nodded slightly, a flicker of a smile creasing his scarred face.
‘Now sit down slowly, Sugama. If you try for him, he’ll have that dagger behind his back buried in your stomach before you take another step.’
In spite of the game-within-games Asayaga knew he had made a mistake, but there was no way out of it. Sugama had just suffered another public humiliation. He had forestalled the encounter for the moment, but Sugama had to regain his honour. Sugama stood motionless, uncertain as to what to do next, while Alwin Barry slowly pulled his hand from behind his back, revealing a dagger with which he casually began to clean his fingernails.
After a painful moment, Sugama said, ‘Yes, Force Commander,’
and sat down.
Asayaga turned back to
face Dennis who had not moved throughout the encounter.
‘As I said before, it will be an open fight between us,’ Dennis said again.
Asayaga grunted noncommittally and stepped closer, moving within the arc of Dennis’s sword.
Dennis looked up at him. ‘Walk with me a while, Tsurani.’ He rose and, without waiting to see if Asayaga was following him, went outside. He regretted returning to the cold, but what he had to say was not for the ears of the men on either side.
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Once outside, the door closed behind them, Dennis walked a short distance away, to an empty water-barrel near the wall. He sat upon it and looked up at the Tsurani leader. ‘The second watch should be back in soon,’ he said, speaking slowly so that Asayaga could understand.
‘I know. The storm is lifting.’
‘The Dark Brothers will try a night attack. They’ve had several hours to dry out, eat some warm food. With the weather lifting they won’t wait. They know we’re both in here and will figure we’ve murdered each other. They’ll be eager for an easy kill.’ As he said the last words he smiled slightly.
‘Then we surprise them,’ Asayaga replied. ‘After that, you and I, we fight.’
Dennis shook his head. ‘Typical Tsurani. Always ready to stand and fight without thought.’
‘That is why we will win.’
Dennis held up his hand.
‘Listen, Tsurani. Even together we can’t hold this place. My father built this stockade, and he abandoned it for a reason.’ He pointed upward in the dark. ‘They get archers up on the sides of the pass it’s a death trap.’
‘So we put men up there.’
‘To put enough men up there, we do not leave enough on the wall to repulse an attack. No, you can stay if you want. In fact, I encourage you to do so.’
‘But you are running?’
Dennis nodded and gestured to the north. ‘They have three hundred or more, at least twenty mounted. North is the only way out of here now.’
‘And then where?’
Dennis grinned. ‘Wouldn’t you like to know.’
Asayaga studied him intently.
‘You don’t know yourself,’ he said softly, speaking so quietly that the Kingdom troops on the wall above could not hear.
Dennis said nothing for a moment. ‘I scouted it years ago,’ he hesitated, ‘before you came. Not since.’
‘The black scout?’
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‘The Natalese scout,’ Dennis replied evenly, ‘Gregory. Same with him. It’s land that no one claimed. Border marches separating our realms from the Dark Brothers and their allies – what we call the Northlands.’
‘Then follow the ridge of this mountain and go west for a day.
After that, turn south back to our lines.’
Dennis shook his head.
‘They’ll pin us up here. The ridges are piled high with snow and ice after this storm. We’ll get trapped up there, they’ll circle us in, block our escape and then drag us out.’
‘So why are you telling me this?’
‘Because, Tsurani, its one of two choices. We settle accounts now, or you come with us. I don’t think you’re fool enough to stay behind so I don’t even offer that to you as a third alternative.’
‘You offer me a choice?’ Asayaga barked. ‘Perhaps it should be the other way around, dog.’
Dennis’s features clouded for an instant, hand gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. ‘Who is the invader here?’ he asked, his voice filled with menace. ‘You dare call me a dog, you murderer?’
Asayaga started to speak, but then held his words. What answer was there? For a brief instant he understood the Kingdom soldier’s anger. He inclined his head slightly. ‘I offer no apology,’
Asayaga said, holding up his hand, palm out, ‘but I do offer to talk.’
‘Well,’ Dennis replied haughtily, ‘that’s something, coming from a Tsurani.’
Asayaga was silent for a moment, as if weighing his options. Finally he said, ‘I heard one of your men speak your name. I know who you are, leader of Hartraft’s Mauraders.’
‘Yes,’ and there was a sharp note of pride in Dennis’s voice. ‘What’s left of the garrison of Squire Hartraft’s estates, in service to my lord, the Baron of Tyr-Sog. So why is that important?’
‘I have lost more than one man to you. Finding them in the morning, throats cut, no sign of an honourable fight. Slipping in like purse-thieves in an alleyway, then melting back into the forest.’
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‘Bothers you, doesn’t it?’ Dennis said, a cold grin lighting his scarred face.
‘It is not war, it is murder.’
‘Don’t speak to me of murder!’ Dennis hissed, barely containing his anger. ‘Were you at the Siege of Valinar?’
Asayaga, even though he was unfamiliar with all the inflections of their language, could not mistake the tension in Hartraft’s voice.
He nodded. ‘No, I was serving with Clan Kanazawai under Kasumi of the Shinzawai against your Prince Arutha at Crydee. A hard fight, the first one I was in. But I have heard of Valinar; that was also a hard fight.’
‘That was my family’s estate.’ Dennis made a sweeping gesture that took in the men up on the wall and those inside the barracks.
‘This raiding company was formed around the few men who got out of Valinar. Less than twenty of us and those who remained behind, you killed them all. I am the only one left.’ He fixed Asayaga with a look that could only be called murderous. ‘My father, my mother, my younger brother and two sisters, and the woman to whom I was bethrothed, all were in residence at my father’s estate the night you Tsurani attacked.’ His voice fell to a whisper. ‘It was the night of my wedding-day. It’s been nine years, Tsurani, but I remember it as if it were yesterday. I held my wife in my arms when she died. I don’t know if my brother and sisters are even alive.’
Asayaga tensed. The captured Kingdom soldiers had been taken to Kelewan and sold as slaves. They were labouring under the hot Tsurani sun if they still lived, in the fields or down reclaiming the land of the Great Swamp. The women . . . the old ones to the kitchens, the young ones, like Dennis’s sisters . . . He thought it best not to mention that to Dennis. Then he remembered a story. ‘You’re the one who released the prisoner, aren’t you?’
Dennis grinned, as evil an expression as Asayaga had seen on a mortal man. Early in the war a raid had taken a forward position, and every man there had been killed, save one. A young Tsurani soldier had been rendered unconscious and when he revived he found himself a prisoner. Rather than being enslaved as he had expected, he had been returned to his own lines, with a message: every man who had attacked Valinar would be hunted down and killed. It had been 95
judged a hollow threat; but nine years later, only a handful of men who had been at Valinar were still alive to remember that fight.
‘We are a raiding company, and we operate behind the lines. We serve at the pleasure of the Duke of Yabon, and under the command of the Earl of LaMut and my lord the Baron of Tyr-Sog, but the manner in which we serve is our own. Once behind your lines, I am free to act as I see fit. The Marauders are the thorn in your side, Tsurani.’ He looked Asayaga directly in the eyes. ‘We are here because we were on our way back from raiding one of your rear positions. So know I am not boasting when I tell you this thing: this is my world, Tsurani, not yours. But I am not ungenerous, and will give you a tiny bit if you’d like; just enough of it for your grave.’
Asayaga took a deep breath. ‘We cannot settle this war here, at this moment, Hartraft,’ he said quickly, as if these words were hard to say. ‘Time is spinning out and you said they will soon attack.’
Dennis continued to smile without any hint of warmth. ‘Yes.
Maybe we should just sit here and argue till they come and kill you for me.’
Asayaga hesitated, wondering for a second if this man’s hatred ran so deep that he would do such a thing. ‘You are saying then that you command and we are to fol
low?’ he asked finally.
‘Something like that, at least till we are free of the damned moredhel. I need your swords in order for my men to survive, but not as much as you need my knowledge for your men to survive. Dying at the hands of the moredhel serves neither of us or our people. Will you serve?’
‘Never. I command my men.’ He said the words slowly, force-fully. This Kingdom soldier’s ignorance of his foes was astonishing. Had he no sense of the proper order of things, of all that was implied by the acceptance of an order from a sworn enemy?
Dennis looked at him carefully and Asayaga could sense that Hartraft was studying him, trying to figure something out. Finally he grunted and nodded.
‘A truce then. Call it whatever the hell you want to call it. We move together until we are certain we are free of the Dark Brothers.
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Once that is accomplished we form ranks with our own comrades and then we fight.’
‘I march the same path as you only because I order my men to do so,’ Asayaga replied slowly. ‘But you and I shall have an understanding. If you only pass along . . . suggestions, to me, I will consider them and perhaps agree to your suggestions. But order one of my men and you will as likely provoke a fight.’
Dennis looked at him, as if deciding.
Rapidly, Asayaga continued, ‘In our world, enemy houses will serve together if ordered by their clans; but one of lower blood, of another house, is . . .’ He fought for a concept. ‘It is better if you just tell me what you wish. My men will likely not obey one of . . .
inferior blood.’
‘I won’t start another argument with you about whose blood is better,’ Dennis replied coolly. ‘I’ve seen enough on both sides to know it’s the same colour.’ He nodded. ‘All right. Suggestions. But if I say move, or deploy to a flank you’d better hear . . . my suggestion and act on it with haste. If it comes to a fight with the Dark Brothers, Tsurani honour be damned. If you want your men to survive, listen to what I say.’
‘I will take no order from you. But I will consider suggestions.’
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