"Mostly magicians who ran into trouble along the way and blame the big-shot sorcerers," Dorion added. "I'd bet on it. There's lots nursing grudges. And if any of them should happen to know me, unlikely as that is, they'll also know that I'm the last guy to be working for Boolean these days, and the first with a grudge."
Boday thought about it. "It seems a bit too easy, but even if it works there is still a problem. Where does that leave Shari and Boday? We have no such charms."
"Thanks to those rings in your noses it's not as much of a problem as you might think," Dorion told her. "They didn't kill all the Akhbreed colonials after all. The ones they captured—men, women, children—they hauled in to the magicians they had where available and fitted them with slave rings. There are hundreds, maybe more, Akhbreed colonials down there, all slaves, all doing whatever their former subjects and now their masters want. I'm not sure you're gonna like what you see down there—I sure didn't—but just keep very quiet and very obedient and prepare for some rough talk and treatment for a little while, and you'll fit right in."
Boday didn't like the sound of that. "How many are there down there, anyway?"
"It's indescribable," the magician replied. "You'll have to see it for yourself, and hold your stomach." He paused for a moment. "But first I'm afraid the two of you will need a little preparation. Uh. this may seem odd, but I'm afraid both of you will have to take off everything you're wearing and, ah, maybe roll in the dirt a bit."
This was one time when Charley felt her blindness particularly frustrating, but Shadowcat was peering out as curious as she was and giving her at least a cat's eye view, which was enough.
It was like a cross between a giant city and a massive armed camp. Coming down the last hill to the null, people (or sort of people) and animals and tents and even temporary buildings seemed to stretch along the border as far as the eye could see in either direction. While it extended a ways into the null, the bulk of the encampment, the people, and supplies seemed to remain on the world they had just crossed; one of several, it appeared, that was being used as staging areas. "Probably any world where they had a successful revolt," Halagar guessed. "They probably have sufficient navigation to bring in forces at will from several worlds totally protected reserves that can be almost instantly brought to bear. It's brilliant."
Less brilliant was the organization down below, which was close to nonexistent. Most of these races had never seen each other before and appeared as strange or exotic or monstrous to one another as they did to the Akhbreed themselves. They spoke a dozen languages and a hundred dialects, and the only thing they really had in common was that they and their ancestors had been kept under the rule of a single race and subject to the tyranny of an absentee king and his own requirements for thousands upon thousands of years.
Nor had they slaughtered all the Akhbreed in their regions. That would have been too easy and not very satisfying. As with most former subjects suddenly liberated after so long under a cruel system, they found less wrong with the system itself than with their own people's place within it. Those Akhbreed who had been taken alive and unhurt, who had surrendered, who had not gone down fighting or committed suicide, were brought here, packed in wagons like pigs, and in an almost assembly-line fashion were fitted with slave rings by busy magicians working in crowded tents. Stripped of all they had, broken and naked, these people were then given over to the rebels to do whatever bidding was demanded of them.
Filthy, beaten, driven to exhaustion, suffering every degradation, they hauled stuff, waited on their former workers, shoveled dung, dug field latrines, all the worst stuff, while others suffered the depths of public degradation and humiliation for the amusement of the crowds. They looked empty-eyed, the walking dead.
The bulk of the natives were of three groups—the Galoshans, of course, and the Mahabuti, whose world Charley and the others had just crossed, revealed for the first time as short, squat little people with wrinkled hides of the dullest grey, with broad bearlike clawed feet and hands that matched and short, barren, rat-like tails. Here, too, were the bulk of the Klutiin, in the wrong political jurisdiction but not seeming to mind a bit. Clearly it was not Covanti that was threatened, at least not yet.
Although they had all tensed when they crossed the first line of pickets, and hadn't relaxed much when they reached the beginnings of the camp itself, few paid them much attention. Clearly the stones were working, although neither Halagar nor Dorion believed that they alone would solve all their problems. Such a generic sort of badge was necessary because of the sheer numbers involved, but the masterminds of this rebellion were far from stupid. The more generic you made something, the easier it was to steal or copy. It served as a uniform, but there must always be a wariness for spies.
Somehow, in the bedlam, Halagar heard gruff, guttural Akhbreed being spoken and headed for the source. It was one of the crested Galoshans barking orders to a number of Akhbreed slaves. It looked up more in curiosity than in fear as it saw Akhbreed approaching fully clothed and on horseback. Halagar halted just in front of him and saluted.
"Your pardon, sir!" he shouted above the din of the mob. "Captain Halagar of the mercenary militia. Where's the command center?"
"Why?" the creature shot back with a roar, making it very clear that he didn't like Akhbreed as allies at all.
"I have orders to report to the commanding officer," the mercenary responded smoothly, ignoring the tone. "Orders directly from Colonel Koletsu of the General Staff."
"Field command is out there," responded the Galoshan, pointing towards the null. "But you'll need passes to get out of here."
"Well, who do I see to get them?"
"Commanding officer. But, yes, you wouldn't have a commanding officer. All right." He turned and pointed up the border. "See that big red tent about a leeg north? That's combat support. Somebody there can help you." And he turned and went back to making the lives of several Akhbreed men and women miserable.
It was their eyes; the eyes of the Akhbreed that were otherwise so vacant, that haunted them. Those eyes came alive, if only for a few seconds, as the quartet passed them, as if searching for help, for allies, for some sign of kinship or hope. They all regretted that they dared give none, nor did they have much to give.
Going through that mob was difficult not just for the sights but because of its overall atmosphere. It stank of strange and unpleasant scents; it was a cacophony of noise, with everybody seeming to speak at the top of their lungs all at once and constantly in a tremendous number of strange dialects, and it was also dicey, since all four were Akhbreed and these people were united only in their intense hatred of the ruling race. Dorion was fairly safe because they depended on the renegade magicians and because they still feared the magic, but even Halagar had to watch it, since, ally stone or not, rank or not, it would take very little provocation by this kind of mob to bring him down.
In fact, both Charley and Boday had felt stupid and ridiculous after being ordered to roll in the dirt and some man-made mud until they were satisfactory to the two men; Boday had hitched loudly, and both had wound up feeling ratty and gross. Now, both women wondered if they were ratty or gross enough for this crowd.
For a measure of protection, Boday was riding double behind Dorion and Charley in her usual spot in front of Halagar. The third horse, riderless, was being led, with the bedrolls and other supplies. As they went through the crowd, though, creatures of the various races would come up to them, some shouting epithets or spitting on the ground or towards them. Some struck, and Halagar had to caution them it ignore it.
Less was directed at Dorion, for they still feared magic, but his cherubic face and stocky demeanor simply was not the sort to inspire awe and fear no matter how grim he looked or how much he glowered at them, and some were bold enough to come forward and attempt to grab Boday, perhaps pull her off the horse.
Dorion wasn't the world's best magician, but he wasn't completely powerless, a mild shock was enough to discourage.<
br />
That had the effect of turning the various natives' attention to Halagar and particularly Charley, who, it had to be admitted, looked pretty good even with dirt and mud. She looked somewhat like the idealized Akhbreed woman, and for colonial races raised as inferiors on their looks and held up to Akhbreed standards of what was beautiful or handsome, the pair in front drew much attention. Halagar quickened the pace, but more than one native got a hand or claw or something on her with intent of dragging her off. and a bit of Halagar's leather uniform was torn as if it were paper. He simply had to bear it and do his best: not the greatest of skilled mercenaries nor any great rebel rank. real or not. could have defended against a mob.
Now, for the first time since seeing the system of Akahlar. Charley began to have doubts about the wisdom of rebellion. This was the future they were seeing here: a future of confusion and brutality, in which revenge rather than just freedom was the primary motivator. Take away the Akhbreed authority, and these people would quickly be fighting among themselves for what was left. Revolutions, particularly when they had a self-evident just cause, had always seemed romantic affairs, the morality all black or white, the rights and wrongs perfectly defined. For the first time she began to wonder if things really were as simple as all that.
The combat support tent was guarded with better, more experienced troops: obviously the hard core of the mostly disorganized irregular army building here- These, too, were the tough, diamond-crested Galoshans. but they had a different bearing that was all military. Again. Halagar gave his spiel, which, to Charley's ears anyway, sounded a bit too pal and convincing. She began to wonder how he knew all the right names.
"Captain Halagar of the mercenary militia, on direct orders from Colonel Koletsu of the General Staff. I must get permission to pass into the null."
The Galoshan stared at him. "Why? What orders do you bear?"
Halagar sighed, aware of the innate hostility and also of the vast potential mob behind. "With all due respect, soldier, I can't reveal that to you, any more than you would to me. If I could just see the commanding officer, though, I'm sure we could work this out."
The sentry thought a moment. "AH right. Just you, though, Captain. The others remain here. along with your weapons and horses."
Halagar nodded, dismounted, and the others did likewise. "Just stay here and say nothing," he whispered to them. "I know it's a nervous situation but consider that the alternative is trying to fight or sneak through all this. At least you're safer inside this picket line."
There was no arguing with that. so they sat, Boday and Charley sitting together and keeping very quiet and very still, Dorion tried to look unconcerned, but he wasn't at all thrilled, either. At any moment, the slightest hint of anything suspicious would make things instantly unpleasant.
The nearest sentry came over to him and gestured at the two women. "They his, magician, or yours?"
"Personal slaves. They were slaves even under the old order, so this isn't much different for them." The conversation was making him uncomfortable. Too much chance of a slip of the tongue here.
But the guard just nodded. "That explains it, then. I thought I noticed a different look about them. They say they're going to be pulling the women out of these camps soon. Going to start a breeding program. Some of the animal husbandry experts are opening up a whole new business in slaves. Akhbreed, mainly, but some of the other races who won't join us will wish they had, too. That bother you, you being born Akhbreed and all?"
It did, more than this sentry could know, but that wasn't the required answer.
"The system's been just as bad to some of us as to most of you," he responded. "You don't know what some of those big-shot sorcerers are like close up. I do. I've been a refugee in the wilds for many years, seeing little of my own kind, living and dealing mostly with halflings and changelings and the like. The system's done such horrible wrongs that it's only to be expected that setting it right will cause suffering as well. I had a mild brush with a Changewind anyway, so I'm not wholly acceptable to them any more, either."
The sentry nodded sagely. "Most all the magicians working on our side have some problems tike that, either from magic backfiring, curses by higher-ups, or occasional Changewind problems. Nobody ever knew how many like that there were until this."
And, with that. he slowly wandered away. Dorion allowed himself a nervous sigh, and Boday caught his eye and seemed to understand.
It took Halagar almost an hour, but when he came back it was with an escort of soldiers- "Come, Dorion' The General was most understanding, and we're getting a security escort to the border. All I had to do was mention Masalur and all barriers dropped. You two take the third horse, double up, and ride between us!"
Boday was immediately on her feet and lifted Charley into the saddle and then climbed on behind. They both were thin enough that a common saddle wasn't all that cramped. It wasn't until they were on their way that either could wonder just how easily Halagar seemed to have managed all this. Was he working both sides or not? Or was this some kind of trap for all of them?
The guard parted the ways of the crowd down to the null border itself, and then took them in, past the equally professional picket line. Out here was no colonial rabble; the soldiers of the rebel forces holding the colonial side of the null looked tough, efficient, and businesslike. The commanding general, a rough-looking creature with mottled rust-red skin and a serpentine face, who was of no race either Halagar or Dorion had seen before, was crisp and businesslike. This man was a pro, trained and prepared for this point in time.
He pointed a long, clawed finger out into the null. "That's the enemy, about twenty leegs beyond. From my front line here, it's a no-man's-land until their frontier line. They're established quite well their commander seems to know what he's doing but when we're able to move they will be vulnerable with little or no cover."
Halagar was the professional military man all the way. "You really think you can take them? Your troops here look excellent, but there are not enough of them, and the bunch back in Mahabuti, if you'll forgive me, would be cut to pieces by any good defender, and not inclined to obey your orders."
"Well, we're doing what training we can with them, but you're right. They're strictly a rear-guard force, or cannon fodder, depending on the situation. I have sufficient forces, though, both in reserve in other colonial worlds and more coming all the time. I'll need more time than I have to whip that rabble into shape, but I have enough time to get sufficient forces for the real fighting together." He paused a moment. "So you're on a special mission from Colonel Koletsu. How is the Colonel?"
Halagar was unfazed. "I'm afraid I've never met him, sir. My instructions come by courier. I've never actually seen any of the people I work for."
That was the right answer. "Well, neither have I, although I saw this Klittichom once and he impressed me as one nasty character. I confess I'm uneasy about building his power so much, but if you're going to have to deal with the power of sorcery you're going to have to deal with the devil, and if that power's on my side I can't quibble about it not being perfect. I assume that you're going to pass into the hub as refugees? If so, don't get shot by a nervous sentry over there."
"We'll be as careful as we can. I'm hoping to pass us off as double agents. Get a convincing story and pledge allegiance to the king and like that. Enough to get me through, anyway."
"Like you did here," the general muttered. "But I don't care who or what you are, Captain. If you're truly with us, then you'll wind up rewarded and living in the only remaining center of Akhbreed freedom in Klittichom's immediate domain. If not, then you'll join those wretches you saw back there, if you survive. Pretty soon the last obstacle to us will be removed and then it will be time to strike. I've grown old waiting for this; I'm not about to fail."
"Well, I'm counting on us all being evident Akhbreed to tilt any doubt on their side in my favor," he told the general. "Am I going to have to go through all this on the other side as we
ll. though?"
"Not much. There's just enough force against the west border to secure it so we can bring up our own forces as need be, nothing like this. But when you get near Masalur hub, it will make this look like an unpopulated desert. If all goes well with you, though, then you ought to reach there just in time for the fun."
Halagar didn't know exactly what that meant, but he responded, "Well, that's when and why I'm supposed to be there. Those of us with combat experience need to evaluate what's what."
The general nodded. "Yes, indeed, we do need that. We will win, but the casualties are going to be a hundred times greater than they need to be because we're using, of necessity, all green troops. Very well. Captain. I'll give the orders for you to pass."
And, like that, they were through the line and out into the middle of the no-man's-land of the null.
When they got far enough out that the others felt free to speak, Boday said, "You were very chummy with those slime, and very free with the right names. One might wonder with that general just whose side you're really on."
Halagar chuckled. "I'm a mercenary, and I'm on the side of those who pay me, which in this case is Dorion. As for the names, I picked Koletsu because it's a fairly generic name. I have no idea if a Colonel Koletsu exists anywhere, let alone in the rebel general staff, but I took the gamble that those people wouldn't, either. A military command is a vast bureaucracy; nobody knows all the players, particularly those on the operational level. I wish, though, that I knew what the general meant by getting there just when the fun begins. My best guess is that they are going to move for practice on your friend Boolean, and quickly, to test out their system."
Dorion looked ahead at the slowly appearing hub border on the horizon. "He was right about us getting shot coming in, though. Shoot first and ask later, I'd say, particularly if these guys are as nervous as the ones back at Covanti."
Changewinds 03 - War of the Maelstrom Page 18
