“May I introduce Boss Rognival of Lakk Keep,” he said, pointing to the most overdressed of the women, “and her administrative assistant, the Lady Tona, and her sergeant-at-arms, the Lady Kysil.”
Although they were all fighting for their own interests rather than for mine, I never really felt so left out of an operation that would decide my future as I did at this one. I stared at the three women in curiosity not only as to what they were doing here but also because I’d never seen a knight before. Except for the slight fur trim and a small jewel on a headband of some kind, she didn’t look so superhuman. I had to admit, though, that the Warden power burned and shone a little brighter inside her. The map in my head clicked in again, and I saw that Lakk Keep was a very small one several kilometers due west of Zeis—across that formidable-looking swamp.
“Let’s get down to business,” Rognival said sharply, her tone tough and crisp. “We are going to attack and take Zeis Keep. The witch here has her own reasons and some old grudges to settle; the young man over there has ambition, and I—well, let’s just say that Lakk is a very small Keep almost surrounded by a pretty lousy swamp. It wasn’t always that way. I used to have four kilometers square of choice vai cropland on what is now the Zeis side of the swamp. Tiel and Altai took it as well as the pawns that worked it from me over nine years ago, reducing me to the island of Lakk, which though it has several melon orchards and some snark pastureland, is hardly self-sufficient. I became, in effect, Tiel’s vassal, and I’ve hated him for it. Until now, though, I’ve had insufficient forces to attack across the swamp, and I no longer have the clout necessary to get allies. You’re my chance to get back my land, my self-sufficiency, and my self-respect.”
O’Higgins warmed a little to her. I could see Father Bronz’s thinking in all this—a female knight who hated Zeis. Perfect.
Too perfect, I decided instantly. Something smelled wrong about this. Very wrong. It seemed all too convenient, all too pat. I felt uneasily that somebody was setting me up, and that somebody had to be Father Bronz.
Ever since I’d escaped from Zeis and found him, he had been in total charge of my life, a charge he seemed willing and eager to accept. As much as anything the Cal Tremon who sat in the council here was by now a product of Bronz’s own machinations, as was this whole carefully orchestrated exercise. What the hell was his game, anyway?
I’d done what checking I could given my limited contacts with others on this world, and they’d all borne out the image of a roving Master, a priest not merely deposed but defrocked by his church, who had been around as long as everybody could remember. And yet it was that last that bothered me. Nobody ever remembered the priest saying a service or a mass or whatever it was they did, nor carrying out any real priest-type functions at all. I certainly had never seen him do so, nor did we have anything but his word as to his life Outside, his background and reason for being here.
Still, if he were with Boss Tiel and Kreegan and that bunch, why had he gone to so much trouble over me? Why not just turn me in and get on with it? If he was someone high up on- the social scale masquerading as a lowly priest, why make certain I reached the Institute and received the best training and experience possible on Lilith? If he had his own ambitions I would be a threat to him, if not at this point then some time in the future.
But if indeed he was what he said he was, what were his motives? A staunch defender of the system on Lilith, he nonetheless was using its greatest threat, the witches, to put into power a man who hated that system, mainly me.
. I looked around at their faces as they earnestly discussed the coming campaign. I paid only slight attention to what they were saying, as, ironically, I was the least important person at this council of war in terms of the outcome, although of course I would fight. O’Higgins, the possibly Lord-class psychopath with the power to amplify, combine, and direct Warden power at will. Rognival, who wanted revenge for her earlier loss and her territory back. Bronz…
In thinking of him I’d once used the term Machiavellian. If I remembered my studies at all, that ancient mind was never the leader himself but merely an advisor—an advisor who was the real ruler while his prince took all the heat and did all the dirty work. Was I perhaps his prince-designate? Or were all three of us somehow in that category? With patience and almost diabolical cleverness, could he perhaps dream of controlling the whole sector indirectly through its rulers, then, perhaps with O’Higgins’ discoveries, going on to take the whole planet? What could even a Marek Kreegan do about it? He would only strike at princes, never at the wandering priest and advisor.
It was a good plan, perhaps a brilliant one. I told myself that if I survived all this and attained the knighthood, I wouldn’t be quite the pawn in his game that he counted on.
The council broke up in seemingly good spirits, having arrived at a plan that looked pretty good—at least in theory. We would see how well it worked out when human beings faced down each other.
Returning to the hut where Ti and I were spending our time until the dawn of battle, I was surprised not to find her there. She had little interest in or understanding of the battle strategy, and the witches were only mildly communicative, but she’d certainly gone somewhere and all I could do was wait.
It was close to dark when she returned, looking a little haggard and worried. “What’s wrong?” I asked, concerned. “Where have you been?”
“Spying,” she sighed and sank down.
“Huh? How’s that?”
She nodded. “I don’t like these women,” she told me. “There’s something creepy about ’em.” She looked up at me, concerned. “When is the battle?”
“Three days from now,” I told her. “At dawn.”
She shook her head. “This O’Higgins may’ve been nice an’ all, but she’s real crazy, Cal. I went over an’ got real close to one group havin’ a meeting of some kind. They never saw me, don’t worry. Anyways, I had to listen real hard, but I heard most of it.” She shivered.
I frowned. “What did you hear that upset you so much?”
She leaned forward, whispering as low as she could. “They ain’t gonna keep to their side, Cal. Once they win, they’re gonna kill you and Father Bronz. They’ll give that lady knight whatever she wants to keep her off their backs for a while, but they mean to take Zeis for themselves. They were talkin’ about the beginnin’ of the purge. What’s a purge, Cal ?”
I told her.
She nodded. “That’s kinda what I thought. The purge of Lilith, they said. Near as I can make out, it means they’re gonna kill all the men in Zeis and turn it into a witch’s keep.”
I had the sinking feeling I’d known most of this all along. I just hadn’t wanted to admit it. “Don’t worry.” I tried to console her with a confidence I didn’t feel. “Father Bronz and I aren’t going to allow ourselves to get cornered like that. And that old witch couldn’t do it, anyway. Marek Kreegan and the other top bosses would close in before she could get started.”
Ti shook her head violently from side to side. “You think so, but they know that, too. They’re nuts, not stupid. They say O’Higgins is already more powerful than Lord Kreegan, and with the power juice—potion of Satan, they called it—stronger than any army that could come against them. They say she’s so strong she’s already stabilized two laster guns or something like that from Outside.”
Laster guns… “Laser pistols?” I prompted, sounding a little weak despite my false front.
She nodded. “Yeah. That’s it. Oh, Cal, what’re we gonna do?”
All I knew to do at that moment was hold her tight and hug her and try and make her worry fade just a little. But sometime in the next two days I would have to have a long talk with Father Bronz.
The priest frowned. “She can stabilize laser pistols, huh? Then she is as strong as Kreegan. That poses a problem.” We were far outside the witch’s camp, officially in the danger zone but out of it as far as our current needs went.
“That’s not the half of i
t,” I told him. “On a world like Lilith, a simple small stungun would make you a king. A pawn could knock off a Lord if there was the element of surprise. I know / could, and this world’s full of expert killers.”
Bronz nodded thoughtfully. “It’s a little late to change our game plan, and Fm not sure she would allow it to be changed now. Still, we’re not without resources.” His eyes brightened a bit and a ghost of a smile came to his lips. “I have to say that I am not totally shocked or surprised by any of this. I anticipated something like it, and I planned for it.”
Instead of cheering me, his comment worried me a little more. “Just who are you, Bronz? What’s your game in all this?”
He sighed. “Cal, you have no reason to believe me, but several to trust me. I could have killed you at any time, particularly in the early days when you were ignorant and helpless. I didn’t. I helped you and Ti, too, —as much as it was in my power to do so. Will you concede that?”
I nodded, not quite conceding the point.
“Then I must ask you to trust me until the battle’s done,” he went on. “You must stay as far away from O’Higgins as possible. She’s the only person that one of your power has to fear. Wait. When it’s all over, all worked out, you’ll know everything, I promise. Know and understand everything, and profit by it.”
“Whose side are you on, Father Bronz?” I asked suspiciously. “Can’t you at least tell me that?”
He smiled. “I’m on my side, Cal. You must understand that But it is fortunate that your side and my side do not conflict but rather converge here. You have my solemn word on that. Trust me now, this one time more, and all will be clear.”
“I’ll try,” I sighed, “because there’s not much else I can do.”
He laughed easily and slapped me on the back. “Come, let’s go back. Why don’t you go in and try to make a baby with that pretty mate of yours? It may be your last chance for a while. In two days’ time that mind of yours will tell you the answer. I won’t even •have to explain it, I suspect. Just remember that I really do like you, son. You’re going to be Lord of Lilith one day if you watch your back.”
I just stared back at him and did not reply, but I couldn’t help wondering if by that time the Lordship would be worth taking.
Chapter Twenty-One
The Battle of Zeis Keep
A prince does not fight commoners. His own battle is reserved for those of equal or superior rank. As a result, my initial job in all this was to stand and watch. Only after the armies had done their worst and the battle decided would I myself face the challenge of entering the Castle through the front door and walking down that forbidden central hallway. Oddly, I would have preferred to have participated in the battle, since this was the sort of thing I’d devoted my life to. As much as it might shock some of the soft elements of the civilized worlds, I enjoyed it. But I’d graduated now, beyond being the lone assassin, beyond the foot soldier and cavalry. Now those others, the soldiers and fighters, sallied forth in my name.
We walked, Ti and I, down the cloud-covered path where, a short tune ago that somehow seemed a lifetime, I had borne her still body past the guards and out of Zeis Keep. We were returning, under our own power and of our own free will, dressed as Master and Supervisor in the same color and design material, indicating we were a wedded pair.
Just after emerging from the clouds on the down-slope, the whole of Zeis Keep was illuminated in the dawn-lit sky. It was the same impressive, fairy-tale-like place I remembered.
I heard Ti give a sharp intake of breath. “It’s beautiful!” she gasped, then looked over at me, apparently concerned that she was sounding too childlike. Finally she decided that she didn’t care. “I was born down there,” she said, pointing to the area of our old village. “There was a lot of bad there, but I’m part of it and it’s part of me. Can you understand?”
I nodded, although there was no place that could claim my own soul as Zeis claimed hers. I was the product of an alien society of strange forms and structures made by computer design and formed and shaped by plastic. Still, I had a reaction as close to hers as I could come, and one that was totally alien to my old nature and lifelong philosophy. I pulled her against my side and hugged her. “This can all be ours-,” I breathed, wondering as I said it whether in that moment I had ceased to be what I had been and joined the race of Lilith.
We sat on a high ledge and relaxed. Ti was holding a woven basket made of some straw like material, and she now pulled out its contents—a gourd pot, two smaller gourds, a flint, some of Father Bronz’s quar leaves, which would burn hot but slow, and some of his tea. Runoff from the mountains caused small waterfalls all along, so water was no problem. Also in the basket were some of the small pastries and a cheese like substance made from some insects in a manner I didn’t ever want to know.
I had to chuckle. It seemed absurd to have a picnic while watching a battle.
An advance guard of witches had “swept” the trails prior to sunrise, so we weren’t due for any unpleasant surprises-—not, at least, until the battle started. We could see the whole area, from the swamps to the Castle, a perfect vantage point. Still, everything seemed very tiny and far away. I wished we were closer.
Ti rummaged in her basket and came up with two collapsing wooden tubes. I stared at them in wonder, then turned them over in my hands. They were small telescopes, actually monoculars.
“Where did these come from?” I asked her won-deringly.
She gave me a satisfied smirk. “I made friends with a supervisor from Lakk, the Lady Tona’s besil pilot. When I spotted one on his belt, I asked about ’em, and got two. Thought we might need ’em.”
I was impressed. I had the bad habit of continually underestimating Ti and mentally kicking myself for it later. I’d actually tried to get her to stay behind, but that proved impossible. I was beginning to think she deliberately cultivated that childlike vulnerability so that she’d have an edge on everybody else, Warden power or not.
I put one to my right eye and studied the field. “Things should be popping any moment now,” I said tensely.
“Things are popping already,” she responded. “Look down there, near Artur’s fort. See?”
I trained my monocular on the spot, wishing I had something with better focusing and a stronger glass. “I don’t see—wait! Yes, I do too!”
They were there, already lined up in a neat formation, the great hopping wuks, their huge bulks almost invisible at this distance against the green of the valley. Behind them a formidable array of foot soldiers stood in perfect military formation.
I shifted my glass to the besil pens cut in the mountain above the stockade and saw signs of frantic movement. They would come shooting out of’ there, I knew, at some signal from the ground. Idly I wondered where Artur would be.
Next I looked at the Castle. The great door was shut, I could see, and red flags were flying from the pointed towers. I thought I could see figures on those towers, but it was pretty far to be sure. What was certain was that no pawns were in the fields or anywhere to be seen. They had been withdrawn to the base of the mountains, as far from battle as possible, to await the outcome.
I studied the trail heads next, down on the valley floor below. During the night the witches had infiltrated and now they stood, linked in a line rather than a circle, facing inward, at each point.
There was no way to carry out any movements of this sort without your enemy knowing about it, so nobody had made much of a secret of their movements. The witches had dispatched the guard and stood in such a way that they might reinforce each other if necessary, but though Artur could probably wipe out any coven of thirteen with his forces, this would be an open invitation for the coming Lakk forces to overrun his rear. Artur, I decided, would take his chances with the divided witches until he met and defeated the Lakks. The way his forces were now moving, I was sure he intended to meet the invader as close to the swamps as possible, fighting in the air over the dank and treacherous terra
in and forcing the Lakks to land on solid ground piecemeal. There they could be mopped up in small batches before they could regroup into a major fighting force.
What we’d seen in front of the stockade had merely been the reserves, a bit more than half his force that could be thrown in where needed or committed against individual groups of witches if need be. It was really good military thinking, and I could see at a glance why Artur was held in such respect and why Zeis was considered unassailable by Lakk.
But there were only seven roads into the Keep, and each was blocked by thirteen witches. That left seventy-eight witches, and those seventy-eight were a tremendous amplified and coalesced Warden force. Zeis was the model of what you’d want to defend in a military sense, but its strength lay in the impossibility of establishing a beachhead against it. If a large enough force could be landed on solid ground, it would be the defenders who would be rolled back into a trap, totally surrounded by mountains.
“There go the besilsl” Ti shouted excitedly. I didn’t need the monocular to see the great dark shapes now out of their mountain stable lair. The riders were braced in special combat saddles that also supported long, pointed wooden lances. I looked out over the fog-shrouded swamp, seeing nothing for a moment Then, out of the murky grayness, a long, slow line of besils appeared. Unlike Artur’s besils, whose underbellies were dyed a reddish color, these were yellow underneath, the color of Lakk.
They came in slow and low, cautious until they had a full field of vision. Inside the valley, despite some wisps of ground fog, the eternal clouds had retreated past the thousand-meter mark, plenty of room for an aerial duel.
The Zeis besils neared the swamp, then stopped, their great wings beating so fast to keep them in place they were totally invisible. I never understood how anything that big flew, anyway.
The attacking formation split now, one-third going left, another third right, while the center column pushed, ahead, accelerating suddenly and with great speed. Hundreds of black, swift shapes weaved in and out, parrying and thrusting, lances attempting to score a hit either at the underbelly of the enemy besils or at the riders atop them. It was a battle in three dimensions at crazy angles and speeds and with sudden whiplike motions.
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