by Chris Bunch
I turned to Tenedos. He took a long moment to recover, then made a wry face.
“Well,” he said finally, “that spell used to be considered quite safe.” He went to a sideboard and poured brandies.
“So Thak not only is alive and well, but knows us,” he said. “These are not circumstances that send a thrill of joy through me, I must say.”
“Do you have spells against him?”
“Unfortunately, no, at least not a spell powerful enough so I could take the offensive. Perhaps if I knew his intent, why he’s chosen to enter this plane, assuming he’s not a native, I could devise something. But as yet our best defense is to stay out of his way. If we’re attacked, I have weapons, but don’t know if they’re effective enough to destroy him.”
“Why,” I wondered, “would a demon have come up with the ideas he seems to have taught the Tovieti?”
“I doubt he did. Creatures of another plane generally aren’t that familiar with what makes men do what they do. I’d guess some time ago he was invoked by a man who preached the gospel the Tovieti are trying to put into practice, and Thak absorbed enough so he can broadcast it, without really knowing what it means, other than it brings him worshipers.”
“What might have happened to the sorcerer who called him up?” I asked.
“It’s not unknown,” Tenedos said dryly, “for a seer’s magic to overwhelm him. Regardless, Thak now appears to be his own master, fulfilling his own desires.”
“Is Thak aspiring to become a god?” I wondered. “I mean, someone who has temples and priests, and control over some part of this world?”
“Now we’re getting into matters I don’t understand,” Tenedos said. “Were gods once demons? I don’t know. It would make a certain amount of sense, since we know a minor god can sometimes be revealed as an aspect of Irisu or Saionji herself and is given even greater veneration. Are there really gods at all? I don’t even know that, although if there are demons and lesser spirits surely there must be greater ones, and there must have been a single spirit at one time — call him Umar if you will — with power enough to create this universe. Or perhaps it just came about. Perhaps there is another Wheel beyond the one we return to that controls all. I become dizzy and want to take a cold bath when I think of such matters.
“As for Thak, I think those we call demons thrive on disorder. Their own planes must be always changing, chaotic. Perhaps they resent any attempts we tiny creatures called men do to bring the world we see into some sort of system. Again, I don’t know. Those small spirits I’ve summoned from time to time to help me certainly resent being required to perform a constructive task, and take positive glee in doing harm.
“I wish I had the leisure to study the matter. Thak is quite a fascinating manifestation. But I fear this is not the place for calm contemplation. Nor do we have the time to develop theories that would gladden the hearts of academicians, unless we plan on them being our final monument.
“For us, it’s enough that Thak is our enemy, and the enemy of all that we believe in. As he is, so are the Tovieti.”
The next morning the Residency was attacked.
• • •
It was a cold, gray morning. The sky threatened rain, but as yet none had materialized.
The mob filled the streets around the Residency. There were at least a thousand Kaiti, shouting, jeering, screaming rage. They were throwing things — stones, filth, masonry, and such. As yet, no real weapons had been used, but it was only a matter of time before things grew worse.
They were all men, of course, from boys to doddering gray-beards. The men of Kait would never allow women the sweetness of being able to vent some rage in public. In view of what was to come, I was, for once, grateful for this piece of Kaiti chauvinism.
I had my men at full alert. I’d had eight platforms built earlier, in secrecy, and now had them moved to the positions I’d planned, two along each wall of the estate. They were three feet lower than the wall, so the outer wall now became a protective rampart.
Our weakest point was the main gate, which was no more than heavy iron bars. Not only could it be seen through, but we had no way of solidly reinforcing it.
I briefed my soldiers on what they were to do. It took only a few moments, since the very first drill we’d learned was to repel an attack on the compound.
While the mob roared, building its rage, my soldiers and Tenedos’s staff stacked heavy furniture as barricades, and overturned freight wagons in front of the main gate to serve as a bastion. They filled bags of dirt from the garden and used them for reinforcing bulwarks.
Resident Tenedos was a pillar, here, there, and everywhere, helping men shift unwieldy objects, giving men encouragement, even holding bags open for a shoveler to fill.
I took him aside, and asked if he “saw” any magic behind this.
“No. I sense nothing but a sort of black foreboding aimed at us. If it is a spell, it is such a general one, and so large, it is hardly worth concerning ourselves about compared to some idiot out there in the street who’s planning to hurl a cobblestone at our skulls.”
That worried me, because I’d gone to the roof of the main building and tried to pick out leaders of the mob. If the situation worsened, I wanted to have archers pick them off. The way to destroy a mob is always to cut off its head. But I spotted no chieftains, so I wasn’t sure at what point to attack the snake; rather, the mob seemed to be more like one of those enormous poison-worms of the swamps that must be cut into fragments before each part ceases thrashing.
Of course there were no signs of the wardens, nor of Achim Fergana’s soldiers.
“He won’t help the mob,” Tenedos theorized. “He’s not quite convinced it’s time to back the Tovieti completely. But he’ll do nothing if they take the Residency, either. Probably he’d use that as an excuse to send his army against them, although I think he’d be most astonished to find out that his soldiers are now about half-converted to Thak’s persuasions.
“I suppose we just wait for further developments.” They weren’t long in coming.
It began with a shower of spears over the wall. They clattered against the cobbles harmlessly, but a few moments after that, arrows arced over, one of them wounding one of the KLI foot soldiers.
Then came shouts, and they charged the gate. They slammed into it with their shoulders, trying to smash it in. They could have tried that tactic for the remainder of their lives without accomplishing anything. Planks appeared, and they tried to lever the crossbar up.
I shouted for them to disperse but no one paid any attention — I doubt if I was even heard over their chanting. I ordered my archers on line, and to fire directly through the bars. The first volley was blunts, flat-headed arrows used for killing birds. That produced yelps of pain, and a few men staggered away, bruised. But there were ten to take the place of one.
The next shots were war arrows, and the crowd fell back, screaming pain and rage.
I ran to one of the platforms, climbed it, and peered out. Far down the street I saw a cluster of men. They were carrying a long wooden pole, about a man’s shoulders in diameter, intending to use it as a battering ram.
That was quite enough.
I’d asked Tenedos to hold a spell in readiness, and motioned to him to begin casting it. It was a fairly standard confusion conjuration, intended to produce no more than nameless fear and distraction. Soldiers were routinely trained to expect this when battle began, and to ignore the feeling and obey the orders of their warrants and officers. I’d thought it might be effective against untrained men like those shouting around the gates, and so, by the confusion of shouting and terror, it was.
I put the next stage into motion. Since there seemed to be no leaders to cut down, I thought I’d give the throng a handy exit. So I ordered my archers to send a high volley far down the main street, just as, in time of battle, they’d launch arrows over the front ranks, hoping to strike deep into the enemy’s leadership in the rear.
F
ive volleys went out, carefully aimed, and now came howls of pain. Again, I peered over the wall, and was nearly brained by a rock from a sling. But I’d spotted bodies in the street. Now the rear of the mob was suddenly the most dangerous place, and those heroes who contributed only pushing and shouts found it better to go elsewhere. Now the mob had a way out, which they’d need shortly.
“Assemble!” I cried.
Men slid down from the towers and ran to where they’d been instructed to form up. Our flanks and rear were left defenseless — I intended to strike for the enemy’s heart.
With a clatter of hooves, my lances rode in from the parade area, where I’d had the horses saddled and ready. Each lance held the reins of two other horses belonging to the cavalrymen who’d been posted on the platforms.
“Mount up,” I shouted, then, “Open the gates!”
Four men lifted away the crossbar. One was struck by a missile and fell, his body thudding limply like a grain sack. Those of my cavalrymen not armed with the bow stepped into their saddles.
“Archers!” The bowmen doubled through the gates as they swung open, nocking arrows. Their warrants shouted, “Any target … fire!” and razor-edged war shafts hummed out, some fired no more than fifteen feet into their targets.
“Archers … mount!” and the cavalrymen ran back.
“Captain Mellet!”
The captain’s voice boomed, “The Khurram Light Infantry will advance!”
The KLI went forward in five even ranks, javelins ready. Behind the battle array were their three drummers, striking an even cadence. They marched through the gates, into the street.
“KLI … halt!” Boots crashed obedience. “Into battle lines … move!” The men shifted into three open lines, filling the street from side to side, as smoothly as if they were performing the drill at parade.
“Javelins … throw!” The spears flew out, and thudded deep into their targets.
The Kaiti mob broke, and men ran for safety.
“KLI … wheel right … march!” The foot soldiers swung back against the outer walls of the compound as I pulled myself into Lucan’s saddle.
“Lancers … forward!” and we rode into the streets of Sayana.
Shrieks of terror came as they saw us.
“Lances … down! At the trot … charge!”
We slammed into the mob like a juggernaut, and broke them and sent them running. I took down one man, who was running hard and waving a forgotten saber, with my lance and sent him whirling away.
The blood-mist was rising, and I heard battle shouts from my men. Now was the time to ride the rabble down into their own filth. But we were fifty yards from the compound, and must not be sucked to our deaths in the dark, twisting streets of Sayana.
“Lancers … halt!” We reined in and pulled our horses around, riding back through the gates, the KLI moving smoothly in behind us, and the gates clanged shut and we were safe.
I shouted for the civilians to help tend the wounded, and ran to one of the towers.
I counted forty bodies sprawled in the street. We had two men dead and half a dozen wounded.
We’d given them a lesson, but the next time it would be our turn to learn. The next time they would be armored and armed, and the moment might well be theirs.
We must maintain the edge we’d honed, or else we were doomed.
• • •
Before dawn of the next day we were in motion.
I left only a handful of troops to guard the Residency — I doubted if the mob would have recovered its courage in such a short time — and divided the rest into three-man teams.
Neither Tenedos, myself, nor his clerks had any sleep the previous night All Numantians in Sayana had been required to list their current addresses with us, and we divided the list into groups.
The orders were to bring all Numantians to the compound. Captain Mellet’s infantrymen would screen the inner part of the city and my Lancers would try to save those living in the outskirts. One soldier would guard against attack, the other two would help our people pack what they could carry. They were also instructed to make sure the civilians took warm clothes and practical foodstuffs — I remembered as a boy, when a neighboring farm had burned, its master had run out of the flames proudly waving what he’d saved from the flames: a single pewter candlestick he’d seized from a cabinet full of silver and gold.
We had to move swiftly. Each team was told to give no more than a few minutes to each house, then move the people out, by force if necessary. The Kaiti would quickly learn what we were doing.
We set out, hoping for the best and expecting the worst. Again, there were no wardens or soldiers abroad; Achim Feigana had them either restricted to barracks or surrounding his palace to keep his own neck from feeling the touch of yellow silk.
My companions were Lances Curti and Karjan. I dismounted at one house, a neat little cottage set apart from the other Kaiti dwellings. This had some hardy plants in window boxes that still showed green despite the nearing winter. The door had been painted a welcoming red. But it stood open. My sword was out as I entered.
I was too late. There had been four Numantians living there, a man, his wife, and his two sons. I don’t remember what had brought them to Sayana. All four of them were dead, the Tovieti strangling cords still wound around their throats. The house was stripped nearly bare.
I cursed and ran to my horse. As I remounted, a mocking laugh came from somewhere, but I saw no one.
My next address was luckier, although I nearly had to knock a grandsire out to convince him he must leave. He kept trying to tell me he’d lived in this city since he was a boy, the Kaiti were his friends, and nothing bad would happen. I dragged him to his doorway and pointed to where a knot of glowering men stood, held back only by Lance Karjan’s menace. He looked at his neighbors and erstwhile “friends,” and I thought his heart would break. But he, his equally aged wife, and their grown son then obeyed my orders.
As we rode off, I heard cries of triumph as the Kaiti began looting their house.
A half-dozen other addresses went smoothly.
The next I sensed something strange about, even though there appeared nothing untoward. It was a large building in a wealthy part of town.
I slipped out of the saddle and went to the door. I was about to lift the knocker when I fell something. My sword was suddenly in my hand. I began to knock, and the unlocked door was pulled open, and a blade flashed.
But I was not there. I’d slipped to one side without willing the motion, and as my mind “saw” the attack I lunged, and put my sword deep in a Tovieti’s guts. He gasped helplessly for air that was rushing from his lungs, dropped his blade, reached for mine, and died. I yanked my sword free, and went into the house. Curti and Karjan were behind me.
There was the body of a young woman on the floor, her head half-severed. An infant lay beside her, the silk strangling cord around its neck. I heard the sound of crashing from another room, and crept toward it.
A man was pulling drawers out of a cabinet, eyeing them for valuables, then dumping them on the floor. An open sack sat on the table nearby, half full of loot.
“Will y’ stop admirin’ your skills with th’ blade an’ gimme help,” he snarled, half-turning.
His eyes had time to widen just a trifle before my sword took his head off, and sent it tumbling, blood spraying in a half-circle against the walls.
I was about to search the house for other Tovieti when a voice came from the larder:
“Thank you, soldier.”
A little girl, no more than six, her hair as golden as mine, walked into the kitchen. She looked at the headless corpse and nodded soberly.
“That’s good. I think he’s the one who killed my father.” Then she looked at me. “Are you going to kill me now?”
I almost burst into tears.
“No,” I managed. “I’m a Numantian. Like you are. I’ve come to take you to a safe place.”
“That’s good. I wish you had
come a little while ago. While my sisters were still alive.”
I could stand no more. I picked her up and rushed her out of the house, telling Curti to prepare a bundle for the girl. I’d stay with her at the horses.
I set her down, and she looked up at Lucan.
“Is he a nice horse?”
“He’s a very nice horse. His name is Lucan.”
“Can I pet him?”
I nodded, and she walked forward as Lucan lowered his head. He nickered when she rubbed his nose.
“Hello, Lucan. I’m Allori.”
In a few moments Curti and Karjan came out. He shook his head in response to my unasked question. There was no one still alive inside. He had a full armload of clothes, stuffed into a heavy storage bag.
“I took mostly heavy clothes,” he said. “There was some coins in the bag that bastard in the kitchen had. I stuck ‘em in here. She’ll need ‘em when we get her to safety.”
I told Allori we must leave, and helped her mount in front of me.
As we turned away, she looked back at the house, then up at me.
“I don’t want to live here anymore,” she announced quietly. Her eyes were dry, and I never once saw her cry.
We rode back to the compound. The Kaiti watched, but stayed well out of our way. There were grumbles and occasional shouts, but the tale of what had happened the day before had spread, and no one was willing to chance our wrath.
Of the 300 or so Numantians in the city, we’d managed to save more than 250. The others either had changed addresses without telling us, been killed, or fled from their rescuers, sure they still had nothing to fear.
But real safety still lay more than 100 miles distant.
• • •
The officer of the watch shook me awake just after midnight. I came to groggily, since I’d been asleep for just over an hour, and the first thought that wandered across my mind was that the greatest blessing peace can bring is an uninterrupted night’s rest.
“Sir,” the man said. “You’d best come to the main gate.”
I’d fallen asleep almost completely dressed. All I had to do was pull on my boots, my heavy coat and helm, sling my sword belt, and we hurried out.
