by Robert Adams
He arose, wiping his hands on the thighs of his trousers. “Lieutenant Kahndoot,” he said aloud for the benefit of Sir Yoo Folsom and those others present who were not mindspeakers, “alert your people to keep as close a watch as possible on all approaches without unnecessarily exposing themselves to that prod or whatever. Come nightfall, I’ll send a couple of the Kleesahks down there to try to find the hiding places of whoever is picking our men off this wall.
“Now, the barbican is, of course, the most vulnerable of all our defenses. Who is the mindspeaker there, this watch?”
“There is not one there, Dook Bili,” said Kahndoot, who was always much more formal orally than telepathically.
“Damn!” His big, bony fist made a sharp crack in the palm of his other hand. “All right, for now, but in future there must always be at least one easily ranged mindspeaker in that barbican, and on every other watch detail, for that matter. For all our obvious advantages, this city still could fall, you know, do we conduct a sloppy, cocksure defense of it.
“Lieutenant Kahudoot, send an order to gap the main gates enough for one man to get through them. Send a runner — a mindspeaker, with orders to stay at that post for the rest of this watch — over to the barbican. He’ll be safe enough on the drawbridge; it’s not exposed. He’s to pass on to the barbican commander just what I’ve told you. Be wary, but keep low enough to not make a good target for those prod men, and at the first sign of a looming assault, mindcall me, directly.”
The broad-shouldered. thick-bodied woman saluted as Bili and his entourage departed, even while her mind was instructing a telepathic Moon Maiden runner.
* * *
After a late planning session with certain of his staff and of the royal council, Bili was just drifting off into much-needed sleep when one of the Kleesahks, Oodehn, mindspoke him.
“Lord Champion, we found the spot where the man lay who slew those upon the wall yesterday. What should we do?”
Bili pondered briefly. “If it appears that he might return, Master Oodehn, erect a cairn nearby as an aiming point for our archers and engineers. I’d liefer have the bastard alive, him and his new-fangled, extra-hard-hitting weapon, but he must be put out of action are we to maintain an effective wall watch.”
The mindlink was broken by the Kleesahk, but before Bili’s own mind could close, there came another beaming, this one from Pah-Elmuh. Lord Champion, it will please you to know that King Byruhu’s condition seems to have improved a little. His color is better and he seems to at last be taking more benefit from the milk, wine and broths we keep forcing into his belly. But still his mind is closed to me, alas.”
* * *
Once again, old Count Sandee was entertaining strange lowlander noblemen at his hall and high table. One of his daily patrols from out the safe glen of Sandee’s Cot had run across this column of invaders from the east, and the leader of the patrol. Phryah the Moon Maiden, had shown herself to them after recognizing sisters she knew among their ranks. When he had heard that this strange Maiden knew the present whereabouts of Thoheeks Bili, the brahbehrnuh and the two missing Ahrmehnee headmen, Sir Geros had not been at all loath to follow her and her patrol back to Sandee’s Cot.
But at the first, Count Steev Sandee had been most loath to allow so large a force of armed invaders within his safe glen and had kept the most of them camped outside the Cot, just beyond its outermost defenses. But as it became clear to him that these men and women harbored no designs upon the glen or any other possession of New Kuhmbuhluhn, he had at last allowed them all entry and lodged the most of them in the huge, commodious tower keep down by the lake, for the Cot itself had room only for the nobles and the captains.
The old Kuhmbuhluhn nobleman spoke his mind bluntly, as had ever been his wont. Sir knights, you and your force are well come into Kuhmbuhluhn at this time. For at this very moment, our good King Mahrtuhn, his chosen successor, Prince Mahrtuhn Gilbuht, and many another brave warrior of our beleaguered little kingdom lie dead, killed in battle against the northern invaders, the Skohshuns. Our capital, New Kuhmbuhluhnburk, is straitly besieged by this alien host, and King Byruhn but recently crowned, lies gravely wounded within the city, while its defenses are commanded by that same stark young warrior-duke whom you came to find — Bili of Morguhn, him and all those others you seek after.
“Bare days before my patrol found you all, had I been in contact with the counts of certain other safe glens in these parts of our so-threatened kingdom, that we might form up such forces as we could scrape together to ride over the mountains to try to succor New Kuhmbuhluhnburk, to so sorely hurt the Skohshuns as to break their siege . . . or die trying.
“But, stripped as we were months agone to send arms, men, horses and supplies to the north, we could have raised no more than a scant two hundred swords, and too many of those with only mountain ponies to fork. However, now, with you and your hundreds of well-armed and -mounted fighters . . .
Sir Geros answered the question readily. “My lord count, since it appears that Thoheeks Morguhn has felt your cause against these northern invaders sufficient to freely pledge him and his to the furtherance of the Kingdom of New Kuhmbuhluhn, how can I — the most humble of his followers — do less? I and my force are your men as of this moment uhh, men and women, that Is.
“Me and mine, too,” Sir Djim Bohluh nodded.
Within the hour, Count Sandee had sent messengers galloping to all six of the other, southerly safe glens with the glorious news of the unexpected and most fortuitous reinforcements.
* * *
Led by Skinhead Johnny Kilgore and the other Ganik, Merle Bowley. General Corbett’s column marched long and hard and made good time, coming to the environs of the glen wherein Bowley had said Erica and the rest were being held in under two weeks. Then, Corbett took over.
A rocket and two mortar bombs demolished the massive gate to the glen and toppled one of the two flanking towers. Then Corbett sent Merle Bowley in under a flag of truce, threatening to visit worse destruction upon the entire glen and every living soul within it did not Erica and her party come out forthwith and unharmed.
Chapter IX
Counter Tremain swallowed as much of Horseface Charleys boastful bragging as he could stomach, then burst out, “Shitfahr, Horseface, awl you sayin’ is you’s up thar awl the fuckin’ day and you dint kill but three of them Kuhmbuhluhn bugtits, fer shore! By Plooshuhn, I could do thet good, I swanee, and I am’ nowhars near’s good with a ryfuhl as you is.”
And that, thought Counter morosely, was how he now came to be making his slow, careful way up the mountain to the spot that Horseface had described to Cake the Ganik marksman’s place on the morrow, to lie almost motionless through all the hours of daylight in a hole scooped out of the rocky soil and shoot at any Kuhmbuhluhner foolish enough after the preceding day to show his head or body as a target.
In answer to Counter’s rebuttal of Horseface’s braggadocio, Erica had answered calmly, “No, he only killed three, but his killing of them served the purpose for which he was there. Even from down here in the camp, we could see that very few figures were visible on the walls, towers or barbican for longer than mere fleeting instants of time after those three were downed. And that is just what the brigadier wants — fewer and less vigilant watchers in those areas.
“As for your suggestion. Counter.” she had smiled, “I do think that one day at a time up there is enough for any of you. Charley has blazed the way now, so you will go up tonight and take the position for tomorrow. If anyone does offer a good target, by all means do your damnedest to hit him, of course. But I doubt if more than one will, probably early on in the day, and when once they learn you’re still shooting at them, they’ll doubtless do a repeat of today — staying low and out of sight as much as possible.
“As I told Charley last night, if you move as little as possible, there’s no way that you can be spotted, not with that silencer-flash-hider on the rifle. When we found that rig back at the landslide
, I couldn’t imagine what we’d ever use it for or when, but I’m very glad now that I brought it along anyway.
“But Ehrkah,” Counter had protested, not in the least relishing the thought of a day lying motionless in a hot, cramped hole under a pile of rocks, “I am’ nowhars near as good a ryfuhl shooter as ole Horseface is. Chances is, evun if I’s to shoot at airy one them Kuhmbuhluhners, I am’ gonna hit ’em. Naw, Ehrkah, I thanks Horseface, he awta go back up thai t’naht, not me.”
She had shaken her head of black, glossy hair and replied, “Counter, shooting, hitting killing the men on those walls and fortifications is unimportant, really. The thing that is of importance is to keep them down and off the higher points altogether, if possible, so it’s of little moment whether you hit them or not. No, you go up tonight and come back after dark tomorrow. Then Chancy can do it again.”
And so, with the woods-wise stalking ability of the outlaw Ganik he had been for most of his life, Counter Tremain was making his cautious way up the slope, flitting from rock shadow into shallow depression and back to rock shadow, himself only a shadow in the wan moonlight. For most of the way the going was merely difficult, but in places it was so precipitous as to be almost impossible — several times he had to shuck off his new pair of Skohshun pikeman’s boots sling them around his neck and use his freed toes as well as his strong fingers to seek, find and use tiny cracks and crevices and invisible ledges to negotiate an advance over and up the smooth-seeming rockfaces.
But finally he was there, in the proper area. Booted feet first, Counter slid into the long, narrow hole and, after settling himself into the most comfortable position he could manage, began to pile up reachable rocks to form a rest for the barrel of his rifle. That done and the camouflaged weapon resting in place, the Ganik bully — still panting and copiously sweating from the exertions of ascent to this spot — rolled over on his back and unslung the waterskin with intent to refresh himself.
And that was when the thick, weighty slab of rock which overlay and covered his burrow seemed to float of its own volition upward, then huge-feeling but unseen hands grasped Counters body, jerked it out of the hole and shook it as a dog would shake a rat, until all the world and all time roared about him in a barely seen black-red roaring and consciousness departed him all in a rush.
* * *
Nature had not endowed Paget’s Glen as well as she had Sandee’s Cot, so it had been necessary for the long-dead men, Teenéhdjooks and Kleesahks who had designed and constructed its defenses to carve off the outer faces of many of the hills. The stone thus quarried had been utilized for the walls to span the gaps between the hills, their towers and the approach fortifications, as well as the thick, lofty main keep within the glen.
Like the ancestors of Count Sandee, those of Marques Paget had, as soon as a more comfortable habitation was built, used the tower keep as a combination armory, stables and temporary guest-housing. Even so, it was not big enough by half to house the multiracial force now led by Count Sandee and Sir Geros. So only the Middle Kingdoms Freefighters inhabited it, while the Ahrmehnee and Moon Maidens camped by preference in the wooded hills just beyond the glens outer defenses, spending most of their time in hunting, feasting on their kills, drinking the copious quantities of beer provided by their hosts and dancing around their fires far into each night to the wild, rhythmic music that was an integral part of the heritage of their race.
They stayed a week, then took to the trails again, reinforced by the hundred or so fighters of Paget’s Mark. They then rode toward the second destination in their winding, roundabout advance — the safe glen ruled over by Count Rik Nalliss. Then, stronger by some seventy warriors — many of these a bit long in the tooth, but scarred by many a hard-fought campaign and more than willing to undertake another for their new king against the alien invaders — the column angled on northwestward in the direction of the next safe glen.
But Count Nalliss’ contingent was the last large one; all of the latterly joined ones were of fifty men or less, usually less. Not even these trickles were refused a place in the slowly swelling ranks, however Count Sandee and his fellow nobles being willing to accept any Kuhmbuhluhner who could fork horse and swing steel on behalf of King Byruhn.
So as the relief column began to toil up the southerly reaches of the range separating them from northern Kuhmbuhluhn and the besieged capital, almost fourteen hundred fighters followed the massed banners along the mountain track that Duke Bili and his condotta had traversed earlier that year.
For most of the way through that range, they found it easy to subsist on the flesh of wild ponies, deer and other game, along with roots and herbs, greens and wild fruits, while still maintaining a decent rate of march. But one and all they longed to reach the plain where, they hoped, there would be something other than rock-ale — water — and fresh breads.
Although many or most of the New Kuhmbuhluhn noblemen maintained the customs and usages of their rank on the march — being cooked for, served and otherwise waited upon by servants all had brought along — the lowlanders, both noble and common, were far less formal, so the scene and conversation that took place one night was not uncommon at all.
At a spot a little apart from the Freefighters and the Ahrmehnee warriors, old Sir Djim Bohluh and Captain Djeri Guhntuh sat facing each other across a cookfire and watched a sizable hare spitted on a green stick broiling over the coals wherein several wild potatoes baked in rock-hard clay jackets. The while, they slaked their thirst with an Ahmehnee decoction — twice-baked journey bread ground into powder, stirred into hot water and flavored with crushed, dried herbs and Juniper berries — that bore as much resemblance to decent beer or ale as did the hare to suckling pig.
Sir Djim turned the spit a trifle on the forked sticks that supported it and prodded at the hot flesh with one horny forefinger, remarking, “Should be done enuf to eat ’er, soon. Mebbe the hare’ll git the taste of thishere horsepiss outen my mouf. Don’t them Ahrmehnees know nuthin ’bout beer-makin’?”
The Freefighter officcr grimaced at the taste of the contents of his own cup and nodded. “Oh, yes, Sir Djim, the Ahrmehnee brew excellent beer, ale, too, even small quantities of mead and fruit wines. The Archduke Hahfos is of the opinion that some of their meads and herb ales will eventually become a profitable trade item with the Confederation. Perhaps so, mayhap not; I’m a simple soldier and know damnall about trade.”
Djim Bohluh set aside his cup, took out his pipe and the bladder of tobacco and set about the filling of the one from the contents of the other. “Djeri, it’s suthin’ I been wonderin’ ’bout the ahrkeethoheeks fer some time, naow. He’s from a good fambly, a noble, Kindred fambly, but he nevuh wuz rich; mostly he lived awn his of’ser’s pay, whilst he’s in the Confederation Army, leastways . . . plus loot and gamblin’ winnin’s, o’ course.
“But, lo and behold, there he be up in wild Ahrmehneeland, livin’ like unto a black Zahrtohguhn prince. He wears silks an’ satins an’ the fines’ leathers an’ gol’ an’ jewl’ry, he lives in a house thet wouldn’ be outa place in the bestes’ parts of Kehnooryos Atheenahs or Theesispolis, eatin’ the bestes’ food awf silvuh plates an’ awl, with a whole friggin’ pl’toon of servuints to do fer ’im.
Guhntuh raised his eyebrows quizzically. “You two seemed to be old friends, when he introduced us! Sir Djim. Did you not ask the archduke himself how he came into such wealth?”
“I did jes thet,” averred Sir Djim glumly. “But whutawl he said, it dint mek no sense, not neethuh time. Fust awf he said as how it wuz his wife’s dowry. An’ thet whin ever’body knows how pisspoor them Ahrmehnees be. Then he come to tell me ’nothuh time, thet awl what he had wuz give to him by a bar!”
Guhntuh chuckled. “What the archduke told you was nothing less than the unvarnished truth, Sir Djim. Both versions. Have you, perchance, heard the tale of how he first met his wife, the Archduchess Pehroosz Djohnz of the Bahrohnyuhn Tribe?”
Old Djim grinned appreciatively.
“I met ’er — she be a raht toothsome bit, noble or not, an thet’s a fine, sturdy-lookin’ lil colt she’s done th’owed him, too. But how he met er? Naw. I’d figgered the High Lord, he’d done got close with them Ahrmehnee chiefs an’ got one of their get to hitch up with the Ahrkeethoheeks to mix the blood an’ cut down the chancet of a rebellion, like. Thet’s usual in settlin’ conquered lands.”
Guhntuh shook his head and, while taking out his own pipe and tobacco, said, “No, there is nothing at all usual about the tale concerning the archduke and her ladyship.
“You were not on that campaign against the Abrmehnee stahn, Sir Djim, but you surely know of it? Whilst this duke you seek now had led his force to attack the Ahrmehnee from the south and the High Lord was driving straight up toward the village of the nahkhahrah from the east, the High Lady Aldora was leading a cavalry onslaught down from the north, and me and my boys, we was a part of her force.
“It was no real fighting for the early part of that ride, Sir Djim, because most of the Ahrmehnee warriors was all down south in and around the place that the nahkhahrah lived, all getting set to attack the Confederation, So we all rode through them tribal lands like a dose of salts. We robbed, we raped, we burned whole villages, butchered every head of stock we come onto, even them we couldn’t eat. Them folks we didn’t kill, we drove into the hills — legal bandits, we was. I could come to like that kind of warfare a whole lot.
“But, by Steel, we plumb paid for all of it. afore it was done! One morning early, right at false dawn, when we all was camped in a big clearing, the Ahrmehnees come to hit us — it was thousands of them, Sir Djim, all warriors, all screeching and screaming and howling like wolves, they was. I won’t no captain, then, you understand, I was a lieutenant of a hundred of Captain Watsuhn’s Freefighter squadron. But by sunup of that day, the old captain was dead, along with all the other officers except me and more than four hundred of our six hundred troopers.
