Then it stopped.
Motion in the refectory had frozen, as if time had become suspended.
Not a superstitious man, Guarding Bear told himself that the earthquake had struck only by chance, and wasn't a herald of disaster.
Others weren't so complacent.
I mustn't let it affect them! he thought. Rising, he strode toward the dais, mounted it and pulled his sword from his sash. Over his head in both hands, he held the weapon, facing the battalion.
When he had their attention, Guarding Bear spoke. “With this tremor the Infinite reminds us we're ephemeral. We live beyond the time we spend in these corporeal bodies. We live as long as we're remembered by our progeny and fellow citizens. With the Infinite at our backs, let us mortals this night engrave upon the memory of humanity a battle unparalleled!” Lowering the sword, he stepped off the dais. Not a cheer greeted his words. The warriors didn't swallow his twist on the meaning of the earthquake. “Lord Captain.”
“Yes, Lord General!” The battalion commander bowed and snapped to attention in front of him.
Guarding Bear nodded. “Order the men to follow me.”
“The men aren't ready, Lord General.”
“Do as I say, Lord Captain.”
Turning to obey, the commander began to shout orders. Guarding Bear strode toward the door. Their departure scheduled for twenty minutes hence, the General couldn't let an omen such as the temblor ensconce itself in their minds and eat away at their courage.
Approaching the door, he held his sword over his head and roared, “Let's Goooooo!” Guarding Bear strode from the refectory.
Beyond the door, the night air greeted him with a cold, sharp slap. Smiling, he took that first running step into the northern forecourt of Burrow Garrison. His second step seemed to follow a long moment later. His third didn't take as long. Close on its heels was his fourth. By the time he took his fifth running step, he'd already settled into his traveling pace. With adequate carbohydrates and sleep, he could maintain a six-minute mile for a full twenty-four hours on level terrain.
Under battlements the General ran, his feet pounding packed dirt, a cold wind stinging cheeks.
The sentries hurried to open the gate. Between them Guarding Bear passed, into the poorer quarters of Burrow. On the broad avenue between hovels he ran. Without warning Burrow ended. Northward into nighttime forest he loped, loving life.
No Infinite-blasted quake would stop his siege!
* * *
Scowling Tiger probed the electrical shielding, as he did whenever he ascended to the mountain cap. He ordered the shields lowered on occasion, as on the night of Guarding Bear's repatriation. Most often, he liked the security of the impenetrable psychic barrier. Having left the mountain cap only a few minutes before, Scowling Tiger wondered why he'd probed them again. I'm getting habitual, he thought, knowing habit a weakness.
A few minutes before, a mild but sustained earthquake had struck, not strong enough to throw him from his feet. The temblor had been long enough that he'd thought to check the central stairwell. The new underpinnings had held. Sighing, the bandit general had returned to the cap.
I should be staging a conference! he thought angrily, looking south. Scowling Tiger had planned more for this night than another boring installment in his incessant vigil at the top of the Tiger Fortress. Two weeks ago, he'd sent his lieutenants Flashing Blade and Searching Owl westward and eastward to the bands larger than a thousand members. They'd relayed the bandit general's request for a conference to unite the bandits against their common enemy, the Empire.
Ten days ago, however, a messenger had arrived at the Tiger Fortress.
* * *
He claimed the Infinite had sent him. He sought audience with Scowling Tiger, refusing to divulge his message to anyone but. The fortress bureaucrats had passed him along, none willing to deny the man's request outright, performing exactly the function Scowling Tiger desired. A bureaucrat's purpose was to keep inconsequential matters from superiors who already had far too much to do. After three days of endless, fruitless interviews, the stranger collapsed, not having slept or eaten since arrival. At the fortress infirmary, Easing Comfort treated the man for exhaustion and malnutrition. The Wizard-medacor inquired why he'd so persistently sought audience with Scowling Tiger.
“To give the Lord General Scowling Tiger a message.”
The answer piqued Easing Comfort's curiosity. He informed the bandit general, who ordered both Melding Mind and the tiger to examine the man. Both had come away as baffled as the Wizard-medacor.
Finally, Scowling Tiger himself interviewed the stranger. The three Wizards in attendance, the bandit general watched the stranger bow to him from across the length of the Lair, suspecting treachery or subterfuge. A cordon of guards surrounded the dias. Propping his left fist on his thigh, Scowling Tiger nodded to acknowledge the obeisance, examining the man.
He looked ordinary enough. He wore standard-make leathers, his robes a neutral gray color. A sword was his only weapon, no different from the thousands stored in the Tiger Fortress armory. His hair was dirt-blond. His eyes, the Wizards had said, were brown. Of average height, he stood five-foot ten. His skin was sallow from a winter of little sun. He looked like no one Scowling Tiger knew.
The psychological evaluation scared Scowling Tiger. An unidentified Wizard, the traces of signature unknown, had programmed the man's mind with several responses, the primary one being the words he'd spoken to Easing Comfort. Other than the minimum needed for speech, the unknown Wizard had carefully stripped the mind of all memory. The cerebellum, the usual location for implanted compulsions, exhibited no unusual structures. Hence, the man probably wasn't an assassin. Someone had gone to inordinate lengths to conceal the man's origins. Why? Scowling Tiger wondered.
Although the three Wizards had already briefed him, the bandit general perused the compiled reports at his leisure. He glanced up once in a while from the thick sheaf of parchment, making the man wait. The content of the three Wizards' compiled reports frightened Scowling Tiger.
The man fidgeted under the bandit general's scrutiny.
“What's your name, Lord?” he asked finally.
“I don't know, Lord Tiger,” the man replied.
“Why don't you know?”
“I … just don't know, Lord.”
“Who sent you, Lord?”
“The Lord Infinite sent me, Lord Tiger.”
“That's what the implant orders him to say, Lord Tiger,” Easing Comfort interjected.
Scowling Tiger nodded. “Who implanted you, Lord?”
“I don't know, Lord Tiger.”
“Whence did you come?”
“I don't know, Lord Tiger.”
“Where did you live before?
“I don't know, Lord Tiger.”
“Why can't you remember?”
“I don't know, Lord Tiger.”
“What's the name of the Eastern Emperor?”
“I don't know, Lord Tiger.”
“Why don't you know anything, Infinite blast it?”
“I don't know, Lord Tiger,” the man replied, looking as upset as the man questioning him.
“Strip him,” Scowling Tiger ordered. “Inspect his every article of clothing. Lord Comfort, search his clothes for the smallest clue as to his origins.” While bandits carried out the order, the bandit general watched the man.
He evinced no objection at all to the indignity, obeying each request.
“Forgive me, Lord, for not thinking of that myself,” Easing Comfort said. He inspected the clothing, noting the traces of dirt on the moccasins, the style of stitchery, the type of leather, the grade of tannic acid used to cure the leather, the style of robe, the type of silk, the lint in the sleeves, the type and make of the man's weapon, the dirt embedded in the cracks of the sword hilt, the dirt underneath the man's fingernails, even the chemical traces in the hair follicles, looking for some sign of whence the man had come. After twenty minutes, the Wizard-medac
or shook his head. “Lord Tiger, he's a resident of the fortress.”
“That's impossible!”
“I know, Lord.”
Slowly, Scowling Tiger lifted his left fist from thigh, opened the hand, and ran the fingers through his black hair.
His disquietude was profound. His guts ground.
With deliberation, he placed the fist back on thigh, watching every motion, then looked across the ninety paces between him and the stranger. “Why did you come here?”
“To give the Lord General Scowling Tiger a message.”
“Why shouldn't I remove your head?”
“I don't know, Lord Tiger.”
The bandit general sighed, then laughed aloud, then stopped abruptly. He scrubbed face with palms, then put fist back on thigh. Sighing, he signaled to his guards.
After they'd closed ranks, their personal shields on, their swords out, Scowling Tiger asked, “Lord Messenger from the Infinite, what is your message?”
Animation left the man's face. His voice was flat and without audible accent as he delivered the missive from his subconsciousness. “Lord General Scowling Tiger, from all bandits of the Windy Mountains and from all Eastern citizens opposed to Arrow Sovereignty, I bring the blessings of the Infinite and a message of grave importance. As you value your own life, and as you value your cause, we, bandit and citizen alike, beseech you to delay the conference for one week.”
The messenger jerked his left hand to his mouth and gnawed the heel, then abruptly lowered the hand to his side.
“We cannot give you a reason, Lord Scowling Tiger. We can only ask for the greater good that you delay for a week this conference you plan. More than that we cannot ask. More than that we cannot say. Please, Lord General Scowling Tiger, please delay the conference.”
The man shook his head, his face regaining animation. Smiling, he crumpled toward the floor.
Easing Comfort caught the man and broke the fall. The Wizard-medacor then looked at the bandit general and shook his head.
Scowling Tiger muttered an imprecation.
Melding Mind approached the dais, glancing over his shoulder at the body in his colleague's arms. “May I speak with you privately, Lord?”
Nodding, Scowling Tiger gestured the man to follow him. They repaired to conference room number two.
Shutting the door, Melding Mind activated the shields.
Lowering himself to a cushion, the bandit general invited the other man to do the same.
“Thank you, Lord,” the brown Wizard said. “I want to remind the Lord General of his query to the Broken Arrows. Perhaps this messenger carried their reply. If so, then they know something and don't wish to reveal they know it.”
“That's only a guess. We don't really know, eh?” Scowling Tiger said, drilling his left thigh with his fist.
“No, Lord, we don't. If we assume he was their messenger, then I think we have trouble.”
“Eh? How so?”
“Consider the intent of the message, Lord: To keep the bandit leaders away from the fortress on that day. If Guarding Bear launches his siege a week from today—the day of the conference—then we know the Broken Arrows sent the messenger. If the bandit leaders were here on the day of the siege, you'd have the Infinite to pay, eh Lord? The Broken Arrows are cutting with both edges of the knife again. Supporting neither you nor Guarding Bear, but also insuring that a partial victory for Guarding Bear doesn't include a complete loss of face for yourself.”
“You've assumed a lot in reaching those conclusions, Lord Mind. Why do you think Gagging Bear will launch the siege two weeks earlier than all your spies report?”
“Hunch, intuition, some additional information, Lord.” Melding Mind smiled. “I have news from our Captain at the enemy hearth. Not all good news, but interesting. A week ago, he reports, the General and two Wizards traveled to Bastion Valley, where the Wizards remained. Guarding Bear then went into Bastion City to see a woman, whom the Captain was unable to identify. He reports that they fornicated for several hours. From Bastion the General traveled to Burrow.”
The bandit general felt sick with rage and jealousy that his former mate and his life-long enemy were lovers. He composed his face as well as he could. “The insufferable strumpet seduces another one, eh?” he joked.
“That was my conclusion, Lord Tiger.” The Wizard looked away. “Only at the heart of the Caven Hills would Fleeting Snow be safe from Flying Arrow.”
Scowling Tiger nodded. “Who were the Wizards?”
Melding Mind grinned. “Easing Comfort's son and mine.”
“Oh? Well, that is good news, eh? Guarding Bear has finally noticed Percipient Mind.” Scowling Tiger chuckled, feeling some relief. “I told you we'd place him well.”
“You did, Lord,” Melding Mind replied, also smiling. “Unfortunately, Lord, the Captain regretfully says that he can no longer continue to spy for us. A matter of conscience, he says.”
“That's what the Lord Comfort told me three weeks ago. How does Guarding Bear do it?” Scowling Tiger shook his head in wonder. “That's the third spy to turn in three years, eh? How do you think he compels such loyalty?”
“And him, just a peasant,” Melding Mind remarked with a smirk and a shrug. “Shall I have the Captain dispatched, Lord?”
“That's up to you, Lord Mind. You're the spy handler.” He remembered the rumors that Guarding Bear's talent ingratiated him into other's confidences. Scowling Tiger dismissed the idea, thinking the rumor another symptom of his ancient enemy's apotheosis. “Do what you deem wise.”
“Yes, Lord. Anyway, I think there's some connection between Fleeting Snow and the Wizards. Why would Guarding Bear escort the Wizards personally if they weren't important? Why would he then go see her? She's not that beautiful. Maybe their fornicating was a cover for a briefing.”
“Do you mean her telling him about the fortress?” Chuckling, Scowling Tiger pursed his lips, his brows drawn together. “Perhaps you're right, Lord Mind. Perhaps you're right. What can those two Wizards do against the fortress, though?”
“I don't know, Lord. The boy did put to sleep all those malefactors in Nest, and my son's not exactly talentless, either.”
“No, not at all.” Shaking his head, Scowling Tiger sighed. “Send for the Lords Blade and Owl, would you? Thank you, Lord Mind. Good work, man.”
“My privilege is to serve, Lord Tiger,” the brown Wizard replied, bowing deeply.
* * *
Later that day, ten days before, the bandit general had sent Flashing Blade and Searching Owl to the west and east with another message for the same bandit leaders. Scowling Tiger had lost considerable face in having to reschedule the conference. The probable origins of the messenger and the probable results of not heeding the message frightened him badly. Every time Scowling Tiger recalled the incident, his sack shriveled.
I should be staging a conference! he thought angrily, frowning and looking south.
Guarding Bear had scheduled his investment of the fortress for two weeks hence, which spies throughout the Empire had confirmed. The General's cunning and resourcefulness were legendary, however. Only the Infinite knew when Guarding Bear would really launch the siege.
Already, warriors gathered at Burrow Garrison, three thousand reinforcing those stationed there. Expected to gather over the next two weeks were another eighteen thousand warriors. The Eastern Armed Forces had begun to mobilize on a grand scale. With the undefeated General in command of them all, the siege looked as if it'd be a long one.
Scowling Tiger had prepared as well. He'd ordered rations cut. Had ordered stockpiles of food, weapons and water increased and had ordered those stockpiles moved to the upper levels of the fortress. Had ordered the lower levels to prepare for evacuation. Had ordered a temporary settlement erected a day's travel north of the fortress and had ordered all non-combatants to prepare to move to the settlement. Had ordered all stairwells demolished but the core. Had ordered the entire fortress to remain on standby, in case th
e General Guarding Bear decided to launch the siege early.
Changes to the fortress proceeded apace as well. The temblor two weeks ago had caused no damage at all, the new underpinnings of the central stairwell holding fast. Working day and night, the crews had reached the fourth level, having finished the redesign of the three lower levels. The subterranean levels of the fortress, which housed hydroponics, sewage reclamation and the machinery of heating and cooling, didn't concern the bandit general. No one lived in these areas. The Eastern Armed Forces would ignore them if they managed to penetrate the fortress. Until the siege came, the crews would continue to work their way upward.
Secure in knowing that the fortress had prepared to withstand a lengthy siege, Scowling Tiger looked south from the balustrade of the mountain cap.
Burrow Garrison glowed on the southern horizon.
I should be staging a conference! he thought angrily.
Voices edged with panic floated up from the Lair. Raging River ran up the stairs, his sword unsheathed as if to use it. “Lord Tiger,” he said without an obeisance. “Here they come!”
Chapter 21
The psychic flow pervades our lives. What is it? What does it do?
The bandwidth of psychic power perceptible to humans varies from one hundred cycles per second (cps) to twenty thousand cps. Frequencies exist beyond these extremes, both higher and lower, but human receptors don't register them. At the lower end of the psychic bandwidth, the physical distance between waves increases, as does the power broadcast along the psychic medium. Levithons, pyrathons and portathons use this lower end of the bandwidth. The range of these lower-end talents is considerably less than those at the upper end. At the upper end of the psychic bandwidth, the physical distance between waves decreases, as does the power broadcast. Sectathons, empathons and rapathons employ this end of the bandwidth. The range of these upper-end talents is considerably greater than those at the lower end. In addition, the amount of energy required to send on the upper end of the bandwidth is a fraction of the lower end.
The Bandit (Fall of the Swords Book 2) Page 23
