Meanwhile, Valo Peli and Lathe were taking large round balls from their pack and preparing them for use. Then they went swiftly down the road, each carrying a sack full of the strange things.
As Valo Peli had predicted, about twenty minutes later a group of Sogands on buffalo came into view at the western edge of the town. Sandun and Kagne went through the motions of brawl, while the others, hidden inside houses, shouted abuse and random threats.
Sandun spent a fair bit of time on the ground, having been knocked off his feet by some clever moves of Kagne. He was able to see the Sogands that were slowly approaching. “There are more of them than before,” said Sandun
“If Valo Peli’s balls of lopor don’t work, we are in for a tough fight. Six against twenty?” Kagne pretended to drive a blow into Sandun’s face that missed him by an inch.
Sandun stood up and then spun around and fell down. Kagne’s punch hurt even though he had not put his weight behind the blow. As Sandun stood up again, he could see the Sogands clearly; they were still about fifty feet away and looking in all directions.
Sir Ako shouted: “Go! Go!”
Sandun ran in the direction of the house that Valo Peli had been occupying earlier, with Kagne pretending to chase him, shouting furiously at him.
Inside, Sandun grabbed his sword and his bow and continued up to the second floor. Peering out from the door of a ruined balcony, Sandun saw several round things, trailing smoke behind them, being thrown into the group of Sogands. To his utter astonishment and delight, the balls exploded into smoke and fire and a huge noise. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before in his life. If a bolt of lightning had suddenly come down from the sky and blasted the ground in the midst of the Sogand warriors, the devastation would have been no less. Sandun could only gape in stunned wonder as two more explosions occurred in quick succession.
He covered his ears and then picked up his bow and fitted an arrow in case some of the Sogands came out of the smoke toward them. But none did. As the smoke cleared, the street revealed a scene of riderless, bellowing buffalo running down the road the way they had come. Lathe was stepping between sprawled bodies and delivering sharp blows to the heads of those who were beginning to recover from the explosions.
The Kelten men came out from the houses and shouted and laughed at the wonder of it all.
“The Spear of Sho’Ash come down in righteous thunder could not have done more!” shouted Sir Ako.
Kagne was jumping up and down. “This is the greatest thing! The greatest thing!”
Sandun found Valo Peli coming out of a building and embraced him. The man was smiling faintly; all around him was the strange smell, apparently of burnt lopor.
The Sogand commander, wearing metal armor and with a plume of horsehair on his helmet, struggled to his knees and pointed at Valo Peli. Sandun could barely understand his words, but he seemed to be saying, “Lord Boethy, why do you attack us? Who are you fighting for?” The expression on the Sogand’s face was clearly that of a man who had been bitterly disappointed—or even betrayed.
In apparent sudden fury, Valo Peli picked up a Sogand sword and struck the man in the face with the flat of the blade. The Sogand’s helmet flew off and rolled into a puddle of blood. Valo Peli struck the man again, knocking the Sogand back onto the ground.
Valo Peli shouted, “I see you. I see what you have become. You murder without reason, you kill farmers and villagers to instill terror. You rape the women, kill children, and leave the bodies to rot! And you dare to question me? Arno Boethy does not live any longer. He does not know you; he is dead of shame. My name is Valo Peli!”
With that, he gave a terrible cry and, using both hands, swept his sword through the Sogand commander’s neck. Blood spewed forth, covering the bottom of his robe with gore. Valo Peli, with a tightly controlled voice, told Lathe to put the head into a sack. “That head may be worth a few coins in Tokolas.”
The Archives Expedition left Wheat Town and followed the road back the way they had come to Hazeny. They arrived around nightfall, all of them too weary to do more than put one foot in front of the other.
The guards at the gate had already been spooked by rumors from the cowardly merchants who had fled at first sight of the Sogands, and they were suspicious of the bloody and exhausted foreigners. However, Rogge’s brother shouted and cursed at them and swore they had won a great victory. Lathe was persuaded to pull out the head of the Sogand leader from the bag.
The sight of this bloody trophy changed the mood in Hazeny dramatically. Frowns turned to smiles. Women and children came out from their houses. Soon cooking fires sent smoke into the air. The Keltens were washing beside the central well of Hazeny when the women started bringing them tea and dumplings and more—not very subtly either.
The town surgeon sewed up Rogge and was optimistic about his chances. Olef was cared for as well. As long as no infection set in, her arm would fully recover in a month or two.
News of their deeds spread rapidly, mostly due to tales told by Rogge’s brother, who had done the least in the battle. But then, as Sandun reflected, it was often those who had done the least who boasted the most. An expression from Torobeus was apt: “The empty barrel makes the most noise.”
That evening at the inn, Sandun slept the sleep of the dead, and he didn’t go down to the common room till the next afternoon. Ashala was extremely affectionate that morning. Later, he learned that a group of the village guards went out to the site of the battle early in the morning. They returned shortly after sunset with several carts full of weapons and armor looted from the battlefield. The spoils of war were piled in a heap in the center of the village and offered to the Keltens.
Basil took a fancy dagger. “To match the Piksie knife,” he said.
Sir Ako was toying with the Sogand leader’s helm with the horsehair plume. “Too foreign,” he finally said.
“Go ahead and take it,” Sandun urged him. He suspected Sir Ako wanted it. It would need to be fitted to Sir Ako’s narrower face by a blacksmith, but it suited him. Sir Ako relented and took the helm.
Kagne choose one of the Sogand bows. Ruefully he said, “I need to shoot better. I was bloody useless in the battle.” The other scouts choose daggers, finely worked belts, and other oddments, and the rest was left for the villagers.
The headman of the village came out of his compound and solemnly praised them, saying, “In these times of upheaval and uncertainty, your brave deeds will long be remembered. You will always be welcome in Hazeny.” He then gave an order, and a line of ponies was led out from the compound. “These are but a token of our appreciation. Ride to the great river, and think of us.”
The next day, the merchants who’d fled approached the Kelten expedition as they were sitting in the tea house, drinking tea. The merchants all went down to their knees and begged leave to stay with the expedition on the journey to Tokolas.
Sir Ako frowned and shook his head. Sandun stood and said to them, “In our land, we do not take back men who have proven faithless in the hour of need.” He pointed to the doorway. “Get out, and don’t bother us again.”
Ashen-faced and trembling with shame, the merchants left the tea house and did not return while the Kelten expedition remained.
Later, Sandun went to visit Rogge in his room upstairs. He looked weak and spoke in a whisper. Sandun told him the expedition was leaving in two days and that he was welcome to join them. Rogge thanked him for the offer but whispered that he was staying here for some weeks.
“Is there anything we can do to help?” Sandun asked.
“No, Master Sandun. My boy tells me that he has made good trades with the people here in Hazeny, what with the change of mood since the battle. I’ll stay here till I’m recovered. I hope to see you again in Tokolas in a few months’ time.”
The subject of the Piksie rams came up the next day. Damar said the rams needed she
aring, as the weather was too warm here in Serica for their coats. Everyone glanced around the table, but no one had the desire to do the job.
Gloval said “I was a cowherd, not a shepherd.” Damar nodded in agreement.
Finally Kagne said, “Oh, all right, I’ll do it. After all, every highlander from Erimasran knows how to shear a sheep.”
Sandun told him, “I’ll help you.”
Ashala was able to borrow several large scissors from the leather currier. Eventually, the whole team joined in the effort, with Olef watching from the side and making jokes about their chances for future employment. The goats’ patience and good temper were put to the test, and there was much bleating and some cuts to each of the animals by the end of the afternoon. Afterward it was pretty funny, and they all drank several bottles of the extremely potent liquor of Hazeny, which was the only strong drink they had found in Serica thus far.
Ashala, with the aid of Rogge’s son, was able to sell the sheared wool for a good amount of money. Whether it was really valuable wool or whether the buyer was just being generous was unclear. Sandun was happy to get some more funds; as they traveled into more settled lands, food and lodging were going to cost money, and their Kelten coins were of interest only to the occasional collector. He had made some exchange of Kelten coins in Gipu to a few hopeful traders, but it was not nearly enough to last them for months. Sandun had given one of the glowing orbs to Lord Itor in a private meeting. Considering the long months and the warm hospitality they had received, it seemed a paltry gift, but Lord Itor had been very appreciative and had given them a generous gift of his own in the form of Serice coins.
“For your expenses on the road,” Lord Itor had said. “Remember, come back to Gipu!”
Valo Peli and Lathe had stayed hidden out of view ever since their return to Hazeny. Sandun suspected the reason for this, but he said nothing, nor did he ask about Valo Peli’s final impassioned words to the Sogand leader. He did quietly suggest to the team that they not talk much about Valo Peli’s role in the battle.
Sandun told Ashala the whole story of the battle. She had heard of “thundering powder” and had once seen it in the form of a large decorated “drum,” which was exploded with a great noise and sparks in the middle of Gipu on the first day of the Year’s Celebration. Its nature and means of manufacturing were a complete mystery.
“The Water Kingdom used it against the Sogands in the last years of their long defeat. The Sogands say it is a weapon unworthy of them, and they rarely use it. That is all we know about it,” Ashala told him.
As to the name “Lord Boethy,” which the Sogand had called Valo Peli, this was unknown to her. Sandun ordered her not to repeat it to anyone.
Ashala agreed and then coyly said, “They are calling you Sword Breaker.”
“Why me? How could anyone know what I did?”
“The people here are not stupid. They may look like ignorant farmers, but they know a bird and flour makes honey. They found two broken blades of the Sogands, and they know you have a Piksie sword that everyone thinks must be magic. It is, isn’t it? Magic? Just like in the legends?” Ashala waved her hand at the sword that, like the bag of glowing orbs, Sandun kept by his side at all times.
“The Sogand blades were poor quality. Anyone could have broken them,” Sandun replied without much conviction.
Ashala laughed. “Said the mouse to the cat. Everyone knows that the Sogands have the best weapons money can buy. Vicious and brutal they are, but they know tools of war. Ever since they took control of Serica, their warriors have the best the Serice craftsmen can make.”
Two days later, the Archives Expedition said farewell for the second time to the town of Hazeny. This time, their leaving was completely different. Kagne had apparently gained the affection of two young women, and they comically glared at one another while each held one of his hands. He grinned when Sandun commented, “It’s a good thing we are leaving now, or there would be trouble in few days.”
“Hah. Sogandians may kill us tomorrow. I see no harm in living today.”
Padan was teased by Damar, and everyone laughed when he admitted that one of the serving girls had sneaked into his bed the previous night. “And what was I supposed to do? Kick her out?” The girl ran up to Padan and pressed a small carved stone into his hand, and she then ran off into the tea house just as the expedition was about to ride off.
Sir Ako had held himself aloof from all the frolicking. He had been ill tempered ever since the day of the battle. Sandun resolved to include him in his future discussions with Valo Peli. Personally, he agreed with all of Sir Ako’s decisions before and during the battle. That they had been mistaken was no shame. Serica was a strange land with a different way of conducting war. Assumptions that held true in the Kelten or the Archipelago might easily prove wrong here in Serica.
This time, they took a different route, going south a whole day before heading east. Now that they were mounted and had no collection of merchants slowing them down, they were able to make better speed, though the Piksie rams could not be coaxed to go much faster than a walking pace.
Sandun made it a point to talk to Valo Peli whenever the opportunity presented itself. He made sure that Ashala translated for Sir Ako. At first, it was hard to get Valo Peli to say anything substantial, but when Sandun asked about the history of Serica, that opened a floodgate of information.
Sir Ako enjoyed history and so for days, Valo Peli held forth on the long and complex history of Serica while Sandun, Sir Ako, and Ashala listened. Some of the old history was known to the scholars of Kelten, but the more recent events of the last three hundred years were all new.
At the evening campfire, Sandun and Sir Ako would retell some of the best war stories they learned to the rest of the scouts. Valo Peli listened intently and even asked Ashala to translate some words for him. By the end of the second week, Valo Peli had learned some Kelten language.
As Valo Peli talked about the past, Sandun recognized a man after his own heart, a scholar and a fine intellect. He also was remarkably modest, talking about himself only occasionally and as a minor figure in larger events.
Valo Peli said about the Sogand conquest of Serica:
“For centuries, four tribes of Sogands lived in the far northern plains, always at war with one another but often raiding across the borders into Serica. A hundred years ago, the Water Kingdom was weak, and strong kingdoms ruled what had been Serica’s northern lands. The Water Kingdom, ruling from what they called the ‘temporary capital’ of Naduva, contented itself with waiting out the barbarians, paying tribute to keep peace, waiting for the barbarians’ inevitable collapse.
“It did not work out as the wise men of the Water Kingdom expected. It is true that the northern kingdoms, the Palahey and Minak, did collapse, but their fall was due to sustained attack from the Kitran.
“Never before had the Kitran been the most powerful of the Sogand tribes. But under the leadership of their ‘heavenly’ war leader, Beeshe Tem, they subdued the other tribes of the north and attacked in all directions. They attacked Serica, Minak, Shila, and most of all, they attacked Palahey.
“Alas, for the wise men of Serica and Shila, their study of history played them false. None regarded the Kitran as a real threat. Each kingdom was more concerned with the war after the Kitran than the current war with the Kitran. So the individual northern kingdoms all weakened slowly, year after year, and never made an alliance against their common enemy. Until it was too late. Until they no longer had the strength and, like ripe fruit, they each fell under the domination of the Kitran. This took twenty-five years, and all that time the rulers of the Water Kingdom rubbed their hands with glee but otherwise did nothing.
“Yes, the Water Kingdom stopped paying tribute to Palahey, but did they use the wealth to build up their armies? Not really. Did they help Shila when the Kitran attacked? To their great shame, they did not. W
hen the Kitran sent raiding parties down the Mur River, did they help the southern provinces? To their even greater shame, they did not.
“Every year, the Water Kingdom advisors told their king that the Kitran domination over the other Sogand tribes, the Gokiran and the Turan, would end, just as similar alliances had done in the past, and when it did so, the Water Kingdom would be ready to pick up the pieces and remake the glorious Gold Kingdom. So the Water Kingdom’s armies sat behind their walls and waited. And every year, the Kitran gained strength.
“When Beeshe Tem, warlord of the Kitran, was assassinated by a Minak princess just before her kingdom was burned to the ground, the wise men of the Water Kingdom were certain—certain—that the Kitran alliance would fall apart, just as they had been predicting for years.
“But it did not happen. Instead Beeshe’s youngest brother, Isti, gained the allegiance of all the tribal leaders. He continued the wars started by Beeshe, and after some years, Palahey was conquered, and their last kings both died on the same day. The Kitran under Isti raided in all directions, taking Serice farmers as slaves, leaving death and ruin in their wake. Isti died after nearly ten years of rule, and again hopes were high in Serica that the Sogand alliance would collapse this time, as many rivals claimed their right to rule over all the Sogands.
“In truth, the wise men of the Water Kingdom were partially correct. There was a split that turned into open war. Each of the great Sogand tribes are composed of clans, and there are blood feuds between the clans. Most of the Turan clans supported one grandson of Beeshe Tem, while the Kitran and Gokiran supported another grandson named Tolu Tem. The war ended rapidly, too rapidly for the Water Kingdom to take advantage of. The Turan clans—defeated—fled to the far west, vowing revenge but without the strength to match their words.
The Burning Tower Page 21
