#
The next morning Dax awoke alone in a camp bed. Sunlight made one side of the tent glow while the other was in shade. A single beam of light had found its way inside the tent, and a few motes of dust tumbled slowly through the ray. He heard activity in the camp around him. His eyes were sandy. He blinked several times, but they were still rusty. What time was it? He pulled on his outer clothes and stuck his head out of the tent. Across the way the cooks were setting out the makings of a meal. He looked at the sky and groaned. Lunch. He had missed the entire morning.
A hearty clap on the shoulder roused him from a sleepy daze. “Ah, there you are, Commander.” Dax blinked and looked blearily at Markadamous—not exactly the first person he wanted to see this day. The man gave Dax a push toward the open-sided meal tent where a large crowd had gathered.
As they entered the cooler shade of the tent, conversation stopped. The gathered Ugori rose en masse. Finally Dax realized they were waiting for him. “Uh, at ease.” He gestured downward with his hands. “Please, be seated.”
Markadamous led him to one end of the tent, where there was a low platform with a table. “Your table, sir. But first we need the verdict of the women.” He indicated a chair. Dax sat down, thankful that no one seemed to expect him to say anything.
Pulchra stepped forward from the crowd and approached Dax. He watched her come, unsure what would happen next. She stood and looked at him for a moment, then gingerly sat on his lap, putting her arm around his shoulders. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, and the crowd roared its approval.
Dax struggled to gather his wits, still fuddled from sleep. The woman was gorgeous. His thoughts were filled with memories of the way she had looked and felt and acted last night. He blinked back the memory. Pulchra smiled at the crowd. She bent forward and gave Dax a kiss on his other cheek. The crowd cheered again, but they quieted when Pulchra gave him three more chaste little kisses on his cheeks and another on his forehead. She stood up, touched his nose with her finger, and walked away.
One by one they came, the three other women, and they repeated the procedure. The number of kisses varied. Dax suddenly realized they corresponded to the number of times . . . Oh, no. Not that! His face flamed with embarrassment. After the four women of the men he had bested yesterday had finished, three others came forward to kiss his cheeks. Dax only vaguely remembered details from later in the night. Although he had had a lot of pleasure in the encounters, he had struggled to maintain control. It was almost as hard as restraining his dragon anger. He had not wanted to hurt anyone.
The assembly sat in complete silence until Markadamous finally clapped his hands. “Hey, hey! He’s obviously passed the test. Now let’s eat. We need keep our strength up. I’m sure our new commander is going to put us to work this afternoon.”
A girl appeared at Dax’s side with a tray. “Sir? Your lunch.” She put the tray on the table beside Dax, then darted off with a giggle. Was she one . . . ? No, he decided. She was too young. He blinked. His eyes were still rusty.
Scarlet came to the head table with a tray and sat down next to Dax. “So speak to me, oh Commander. Am I to believe that you single-handedly worked your way through that entire entourage of women?” He said it with jocular good humor, but when Dax just looked at him and said nothing, his brow furrowed. “Seriously? All of them?” His eyes were wide.
With his friend at his side, Dax finally began to feel some poise come back to him. “A gentleman does not kiss and tell.” He looked at Scarlet calmly. The moment stretched on. “Scarlet, your mouth is open.”
Scarlet clapped his mouth shut.
#
After lunch Dax called for an inspection of the camp and the people now under his command. Markadamous and Scarlet accompanied him. The Ugori approach to the martial disciplines was at best rough and ready. Although a few used East Landly standard swords and shields, most had their own weapons of varying size, age, and quality. Standards for uniforms were little different. Ugori uniforms consisted of black tunics pulled over whatever other clothing they had. Most tunics had a colored border striping. The colors varied, but most were blue. When he asked, Markadamous said it represented their mothers’ clan colors.
The one thing they all had in common was horses. The camp was surrounded with large corrals for the little mountain horses they had brought from the Gemmick uplands. Next to the horses that the East Landly Lancers rode, these horses appeared pony-size, and with the size of some of the Ugori, the contrast was even more striking.
As they walked from pasture to pasture, Markadamous went on and on describing the different animals and their bloodlines. Finally Scarlet asked, “So have you ever bred any of your horses with any of the East Landly local stock?”
The man stopped and stared at Scarlet as if he had uttered a foul and profane epithet. “We would never sully the breed with lesser animals.”
“Lesser? I don’t understand. Wouldn’t the offspring likely be faster?”
Markadamous nodded. “Faster, yes. Better, no. If we race our horses for a mile, for five miles, sure. The East Landly horses would win easily.” He looked sly. “Ah, but if we race for a day? For five days?” He smiled broadly. “Our rugged little mountain horses can run for hours each day. The faster horses? Bah. They would have to stop after a short while and walk. Maybe they could run again in another hour or two.”
“No.” His voice reflected deep satisfaction. “If you need to move men a long distance with speed”—he pointed to the nearest horse—“these are the animals you need.”
More interested now, Dax ran his hands over one of the horses’ haunches, feeling the cords of muscle under the skin. “Do you just ride these horses, or do you fight while mounted?”
“You mean like the lancers? No, those big horses are good for something. You put a man with a nice long spear on top of one of those big Landly warhorses, and you’ve got a killing combination.” He paused looking over the horses in the pasture. “We can outrun them, but in a cavalry charge, they’d cut us to pieces.”
“What if you didn’t charge with spears and swords?” Dax asked.
Markadamous looked at him sharply. “What? Wave hankies and doilies as we go by?”
Dax smiled. “What about mounted archers? Do you have any archers among your fighters?”
“Archers? Aye, there’s some handy with a bow. We’ve got to eat on the road, you know. The women are the best at getting small game and such. A few men hunt big game as well.” Dax could tell Markadamous was thinking. “Archers on horseback,” he murmured.
“A thought anyway.” Dax clapped the man on the shoulder. “Tomorrow we’ll take a look at what you and your men can do.”
“My men?” Markadamous looked at him. “They’re your men now.”
“Being in command doesn’t mean I’ll give all the orders. Your men are used to obeying you. I see no reason to change that.”
Markadamous smiled. “I appreciate that part, but you’ll be disappointed. We’re not very good at the drills and marching—’cept for that one maneuver you’ve already seen.” His eyes sparkled with amusement.
Dax arched an eyebrow at the man. “Yes, you performed that one with precision.” He smiled and looked at Markadamous intently. “No, what I want to see is what you can do. As Ugori. Show me how you fight.”
“I thought you were supposed to bring us to heel and make us part of the East Landly Lancers?”
“The orders from the king said I was to make you into an effective fighting force.” Dax looked calmly at Markadamous. “He did not say he wanted me to make you into lancers.”
Markadamous stared back, serious. “You want to see how the Dark Horse Rangers fight?” His lips began to turn up toward a smile, a smile that had traces of predatory pleasure. “You mean to train us as Ugori?” His voice was almost a whisper.
“With your help and guidance, of course.” Dax smiled with the same hawkish gleam in his own eyes.
#
Markadamous
assembled the whole of the Ugori fighting force the next morning, but all the noncombatants were there to watch as well. Word had spread, but the Rangers were still unsure what to expect. Dax strode out to the front of the ranks, drew his sword, and gave a formal salute to the gathered troops.
After he sheathed his sword, he took a deep breath and addressed the group with enough volume for all to hear. “Men and women of Ugor. I have the great honor of commanding the Dark Horse Rangers. Today I want you to show me what it means to be a member of this fellowship of warriors.
“Others from East Landly have tried to get you to fight like the lancers.” He smiled and looked around at the assembled warriors. “I am not from East Landly. I am from Iron Moor.” He paused as a rumble of comments passed through the gathering. “Yes, I know you’ve all heard that, but what does it mean?” Dax let his gaze travel over the group again. He had everyone’s attention. “It means I know many ways to do battle. Only after I see how the Dark Horse Rangers fight will I sit down with Markadamous and your other officers to talk about making changes. The Dark Horse Rangers will be the finest fighting group of Ugori”—he paused and looked around at the group—“of Ugori,” he repeated, “ever seen in East Landly.”
He stepped back and drew his sword again. He thrust it into the air and shouted, “For Ugor!”
With a rush of sound, they all drew their weapons. At least four thousand swords gleamed in the sunlight before him. “For Ugor!” the troops called.
“For the Dark Horse Rangers and the honor of our clans!” Dax shouted the second part of the traditional rallying cry. The throats of the entire multitude, men and women, roared the same phrase in response.
Dax put his sword away as a chant of “Dax, Dax, Dax” started up. Markadamous stepped forward and gradually quieted the throng. Once they could hear him, he started calling out orders for the first drills.
Dax turned away and headed for the drill field to watch the action. Scarlet fell in beside him. “Pretty speech.”
“Oh, they’ll be cursing me soon enough once I start to work them, but I think we’ll see some interesting things.” He nodded to himself. “Some very interesting things.”
#
All that day and the next, the company rode and fought their way back and forth across the training field, stirring up clouds of dust on the formerly grassy sward. Dax was pleased with what he saw. The Dark Horse Rangers had solid fighting and horsemanship skills. They preferred to contest pitched battles on foot. They fought well one to one, but their group maneuvers were weak, not crisp. They did use archery to first shower their enemies with arrows from a distance. They could deliver a coordinated horseback charge with javelins to penetrate enemy lines, but after the charge, the Ugori dismounted and finished off their foes in a general melee.
Toward the end of the second day, Dax ordered a line of man-size targets erected. He had Markadamous organize an archery exercise from horseback. A fair number of men and women had skills with a bow and arrow. However, none of them had any experience hitting a target while riding, and the experiment went about as well as Dax had expected. They tried gamely enough, but results were poor.
Toward the end of the exercise, Pulchra rode down the row of targets, arrow readied on her bow. Her legs tightly gripped the galloping horse’s heaving sides. With only pressure from her legs, she guided the horse close along the line of targets. Instead of waiting until the target was abreast of her, she fired forward over the horse’s shoulder. The arrow passed almost completely through the target and hung down from the other side with the arrowhead pointing toward the ground. Pulchra stood in the stirrups and with a war whoop raised the bow above her head. The watching crowd cheered.
Dax poked Scarlet. “I think she’s figured it out.”
The next girl followed Pulchra’s example. She rode down the row of targets and stood in the stirrups before she got to the targets. Having watched Pulchra, her arrow skewered the first target. Before the arrow had even arrived, the girl reached for another arrow and put it through the head of the last target.
“Wow.” Scarlet was awed. “If they can do that at a little more distance, any opponent, even the lancers, are going to be in trouble.” He paused for a minute. “If the Ugori can do that as a group from horseback, they will be more than a handful against anybody.”
“I do believe you are right,” Dax agreed. “However, it takes more than a few days to develop skill with a bow, not to mention a bow from horseback. Archery will make an interesting addition to our capabilities.” He shrugged. “We’ll see how they take to it. One thing East Landly had better consider what happens if the Ugori raise their next generation on horseback with bows and arrows in their hands. They could become truly dangerous.” He looked at Scarlet and nodded. “Yes, East Landly might need a more diplomatic approach to Ugor.”
#
For the next few weeks, the Ugori practiced eagerly. Dax delighted in the mobility the Ugori’s horsemanship gave their troops, and the troops enjoyed practicing familiar routines rather than the drills the lancers had required. The intense activity put all the Ugori in a better frame of mind. Under previous East Landly commanders, they had avoided work as much as possible. Their idleness had led to quarreling and other personal problems among the troops. The noncombatants were no better for having to deal with restless soldiers. Now the Ugori were all busy and happy, and Markadamous had few problems to handle, none of which he needed to refer to Dax.
Meanwhile Dax absorbed as much as he could about the Ugori culture and their homeland. The portion of the Gemmick hill country beholden to East Landly by treaty had fared quite well under East Landly’s rule. Trade was profitable, and the constant interclan clashes had been suppressed to nuisance-level squabbles rather than the armed conflict that racked the rest of Ugor. Most Ugori now learned and spoke Common, but with a distinct brogue that marked their origin.
Even if their lives were good, the Ugori resented outside rule. When Dax remarked on the benefits of East Landly control, Markadamous answered with a laugh, “The Ugori will never pass for genteel society, but you are right. However, Landly is a distant landlord. We have trouble getting them to notice our local issues. The nobles in Frohliem City would rather talk about a dog that shat in their own backyard than a mountain that fell on an Ugor village.”
Then there were the Fourth Night celebrations. For four days the Ugori worked hard at their training and the daily chores necessary to keep their camp clean, orderly, and well supplied. On the night of the fourth day, however, there was a general party. That afternoon cooks started large fires and set several animal carcasses roasting over the coals. Usually they cooked cattle from their East Landly supplies, but now and again some of the hunters found enough venison for the celebration. The Ugori were raised on venison in their Gemmick Hills homes, so on those nights any hunter who had returned with a deer got first draw from the mead barrels.
Once the Ugori had eaten their fill, the dancing started. They had just a couple of horns and a few pipes, but many of the tunes had words, and the whole group joined in clapping time and singing. Most of the time dancers formed large circles around the fire pits, men on the outside and women on the inside. Everyone in the circles linked arms, then stepped and kicked to the music, each circle rotating in opposite directions. At the break strain, everyone grabbed a partner from the opposite circle. They swung and twirled together for a few moments before resuming the original circle pattern when the melody took up again.
Everyone, including Dax, joined the first dance. Once that dance was finished, the older members sat and watched the younger folk continue on into the evening. One night during the dancing, Dax was talking to Markadamous when the man interrupted him with a poke. He pointed to the dancers. “See the girl with Scarlet?” Dax recognized the girl who had followed Pulchra in the archery drill. He nodded, and Markadamous smiled. “She’s Pulla, my oldest daughter.”
The girl was tall and looked to be maybe a year or so young
er than Scarlet. She had her mother’s good looks, and her hair swirled and flowed as she twirled with Scarlet. The two laughed together as they spun away to rejoin the circles.
“You might want to watch that one around Scarlet,” Dax observed. “He is a bit of a lady’s man.” After a moment Dax added. “Maybe more than a bit.”
“As a father, I appreciate the warning, but maybe it’s Scarlet who’d better watch out.” He smiled. “Pulla’s of marriageable age, but she’s scared off the first two suitors she had earlier this year.”
Now Dax had to laugh. “I’m afraid any talk of marriage would be more than enough to send Scarlet running. He’s not the type to marry, I’m afraid.”
“That’s pretty much what I’d already figured,” Markadamous replied. “Although,” he grinned, “maybe what the boy needs is a girl to look up to.”
Dax laughed again, thinking about the couple’s difference in stature. “He’s certainly doing that right from the start.”
#
Serious drill work did not resume until the afternoon after a Fourth Night celebration. The next few days Dax saw less of Scarlet. Dax was busy working with groups of Ugori to refine their group combat skills and did not give it much thought. The next Fourth Night, however, Dax noticed Scarlet sitting next to Pulla during the evening meal. They were deep in conversation, and Scarlet never looked up.
Over the next few weeks, Dax saw Scarlet and Pulla together more and more often. One evening Dax and Scarlet joined Markadamous and his family for supper. At first Dax had been uncomfortable around Pulchra because of what had happened the night he had taken command. Neither Pulchra nor Markadamous had ever given any indication that it had been anything other than ordinary, and Dax gradually had relaxed. Scarlet was anything but relaxed that evening, however. Pulla was quiet around her parents, but she had a lively wit, and Dax enjoyed talking with her after the meal. He and Scarlet stayed and talked with Markadamous and his family until well after the sun had set.
King's Dragon: Chronicles of the Dragon-Bound: Book 2 Page 11
