by Gene Wolfe
"You look the type. Besides, you carried me bottom up, and men who do that always want to hit it."
"I never knew that. It's an interesting thought."
"I have a lot of them that kind." Quickly and gracefully she seated herself beside me and put a hand on my knee. "Listen, it was the initiation, that's all.
We take turns, and it was my turn and I was supposed to hit you. Now it's over."
"I understand."
"Then you won't hurt me? That's wonderful. We can have a good time here, really.
Whatever you want and as much as you want, and we won't go back until it's time to eat."
"I didn't say I wouldn't hurt you."
Her face, which had been wreathed with forced smiles, fell, and she looked at the ground. I suggested that she might ruaway.
"That would only make it more fun for you, and you'd hurt me more before we were through." Her hand crept up my thigh as she spoke. "You're nice looking, you know. And so tall." She made a sitting bow, pressing her face into my lap to give me a tingling kiss, then straightening up at once. "It could be nice.
Really it could."
"Or you could kill yourself. Have you a knife?"
For an instant, her mouth formed a perfect little circle. "You're crazy, aren't you? I should have known." She leaped to her feet.
I caught her by one ankle and sent her sprawling to the soft forest floor. Her shift was rotten with wear a pull and it fell away. "You said you wouldn't run."
She looked over her shoulder at me with large eyes.
I said, "You have no power over me, neither you nor they. I am not afraid of pain, or of death. There is only one living woman I desire, and no man but myself."
XX
Patrol
We held a perimeter no more than a couple of hundred paces across. For the most part, our enemies had only knives and axes the axes and their ragged clothes recalled the volunteers I had helped Vodalus against in our necropolis but there were hundreds of them already, and more coming.
The bacele had saddled up and left camp before dawn. The shadows were still long, somewhere along the shifting front, when a scout showed Guasacht the deep ruts of a coach traveling north. For three watches we tracked it.
The Ascian raiders who had captured it fought well, turning south to surprise us, then west, then north again like a writhing serpent; but always leaving a trail of dead, caught between our fire and that of the guards inside, who shot them through the loopholes. It was only toward the end, when the Ascians could no longer flee, that we grew aware of other hunters.
By noon, the little valley was surrounded. The gleaming steel coach with its dead and dying prisoners stood mired to the axles. Our Ascian prisoners squatted in front of it, guarded by our wounded. The Ascian officer spoke our tongue, and a watch earlier Guasacht had ordered him to free the coach and shot several Ascians when he had failed; thirty or more remained, nearly naked, listless and empty-eyed. Their weapons were piled some distance off, near our tethered mounts.
Now Guasacht was making the rounds, and I saw him pause at the stump that sheltered the trooper next to me. One of the enemy put her head from behind a clump of brush some way up the slope. My contus struck her with a bolt of flame; she leaped by reflex, then curled up as spiders do when someone tosses them among the coals of a campfire. She had been white-faced beneath her red bandana, and I suddenly understood that she had been made to look that there were those behind that brush who had disliked her, or at least not valued her, and who had forced her to look out. I fired again, slashing the green growth with the bolt and bringing a puff of acrid smoke that drifted toward me like her ghost.
"Don't waste those charges," Guasacht said at my elbow. More from habit, I think, than from fear, he had thrown himself flat beside me.
I asked if the charges would be exhausted before night if I fired six times a watch.
He shrugged, then shook his head.
"That's how fast I've been shooting this thing, as well as I can judge by the sun. And when night comes "
I looked at him, and he could only shrug again.
"When night comes," I continued, "we won't be able to see them until they're only a few steps away. We'll fire more or less at random and kill a few score, then draw swords and stand back to back, and they'll kill us."
He said, "Help will arrive before then," and when he saw I did not believe him, he spat. "I wish I'd never looked at the damned thing's track. I wish I'd never heard of it."
It was my turn to shrug. "Give it back to the Ascians, and we'll break out."
"It's coin, I tell you! Gold to pay our troops. It's too heavy to be anything else."
"The armor must weigh a good deal."
"Not that much. I've seen these coaches before, and it's gold from Nessus or the House Absolute. But those things inside who's ever seen such creatures?"
"I have."
Guasacht stared at me.
"When I went out through the Piteous Gate in the Wall of Nessus. They are man-beasts, contrived by the same lost arts that made our destriers faster than the road engines of old." I tried to recall what else Jonas had told me of them, and finished rather weakly by saying, "The Autarch employs them in duties too laborious for men, or for which men cannot be trusted."
"I suppose that might be right enough. They can't very well steal the money.
Where would they go? Listen, I've had my eye on you."
"I know," I said. "I've felt it."
"I've had my eye on you, I say. Particularly since you made that piebald of yours go for the man that trained him. Up here in Orithyia we see a lot of strong men and a lot of brave ones mostly when we step over their bodies. We see a lot of smart ones too, and nineteen out of twenty are too smart to be of use to anybody, including themselves. What's valuable are men, and sometimes women, who've got a kind of power, the power that makes other people want to do what they say. I don't mean to brag, but I've got it. You've got it too."
"It hasn't been overwhelmingly apparent in my life before this."
"Sometimes it takes the war to bring it out. That's one of the benefits of the war, and since it hasn't got many we ought to appreciate the ones it does.
Severian, I want you to go down to the coach and treat with these man-animals.
You say you know something about them. Get them to come out and help us fight.
We're both on the same side, after all."
I nodded. "And if I can get them to open the doors, we can divide the money among us. Some of us, at least, may escape."
Guasacht shook his head in disgust. "What did I tell you just a moment ago about being too smart? If you were really smart, you wouldn't have ignored it. No, you tell them that even if there's only three or four of them, every fighter counts.
Besides, there's at least a chance the sight of them will frighten these damn freebooters away. Let me have your contus, and I'll hold your position for you until you come back." I handed over the long weapon. "Who are these people, anyway?"
"These? Camp followers. Sutlers and whores men as well as women. Deserters.
Every so often the Autarch or one of his generals has them rounded up and put to work, but they slip away before long. Slipping away's their specialty. They ought to be wiped out."
"I have your authority to treat with our prisoners in the coach? You'll back me up?"
"They're not prisoners well, yes, I suppose they are. You tell them what I said and make the best deal you can. I'll back you."
I looked at him for a moment, trying to decide whether he meant it. Like so many middle-aged men, he carried the old man he would become in his face, soured and obscene, already muttering the objections and complaints that would be his in the final skirmish.
"You've got my word. Go on."
"All right." I rose. The armored coach resembled the carriages that had been used to bring important clients to our tower in the Citadel. Its windows were narrow and barred, its rear wheels as high as a man. The smoo
th steel sides suggested those lost arts I had mentioned to Guasacht, and I knew the man-beasts inside had better weapons than ours. I extended my hands to show I was unarmed and walked as steadily as I could toward them until a face showed at one window grill.
When one hears of such creatures, one imagines something stable, midway between beast and human; but when one actually sees them as I now saw this man-beast, and as I had seen the man-apes in the mine near Saltus they are not like that at all. The best comparison I can make is to the flickering of a silver birch tossed by the wind. At one moment it seems a common tree, at the next, when the undersides of the leaves appear, a supernatural creation. So it is with the man-beasts. At first I thought a mastiff peered at me through the bars; then it seemed rather a man, nobly ugly, tawny-faced and amber-eyed. I raised my hands to the grill to give him my scent, thinking of Triskele.
"What do you want?" His voice was harsh but not unpleasant.
"I want to save your lives," I said. It was the wrong thing to say, and I knew it as soon as the words had left my mouth.
"We want to save our honor."
I nodded. "Honor is the higher life."
"If you can tell us how to save our honor, speak. We will listen. But we will never surrender our trust."
"You have already surrendered it," I said.
The wind died, and the mastiff was back in an instant, flashing teeth and blazing eyes.
"It was not to safeguard gold from the Ascians that you were put into this coach, but to safeguard it from those of our own Commonwealth who would steal it if they could. The Ascians are beaten look at them. We are the Autarch's loyal humans. Those you were set to guard against will overwhelm us soon."
"They must kill me and my fellows before they can get the gold."
It was gold, then. I said, "They will do so. Come out and help us fight, while there is still a chance of victory."
He hesitated, and I was no longer sure that I had been entirely wrong to speak first of saving his life. "No," he said. "We cannot. What you say may be reason, I do not know. Our law is not the law of reason. Our law is honor and obedience.
We stay."
"But you know that we are not your enemies?"
"Anyone seeking what we guard is our enemy."
"We're guarding it too. If these camp followers and deserters came within range of your weapons, would you fire on them?"
"Yes, of course."
I walked over to the spiritless cluster of Ascians and asked to speak with their commander. The man who stood was only slightly taller than the rest; the intelligence in his face was the kind one sometimes sees in cunning madmen. I told him Guasacht had sent me to treat in his stead because I had often spoken with Ascian prisoners and knew their ways. This was, as I intended, overheard by his three wounded guards, who could see Guasacht manning my position on the perimeter.
"Greetings in the name of the Group of Seventeen," the Ascian said.
"In the name of the Group of Seventeen."
The Ascian looked startled but nodded.
"We are surrounded by the disloyal subjects of our Autarch, who are thus the enemies of both the Autarch and the Group of Seventeen. Our own commander, Guasacht, has devised a plan that will leave us all alive and free."
"The servants of the Group of Seventeen must not be expended without purpose."
"Precisely. Here is the plan. We will harness some of our destriers to the steel coach as many as necessary to pull it free. You and your people must work to free it too. When it's free, we'll return your weapons and help you fight your way out of this cordon. Your soldiers and ours will go north, and you can keep the coach and the money inside to take to your superiors, just as you hoped when you captured it."
"The light of Correct Thought penetrates every darkness."
"No, we haven't gone over to the Group of Seventeen. You have to help us in return. In the first place, help get the coach out of the mud. In the second, help us fight our way out. In the third, provide us with an escort that will get us through your army and back to our own lines."
The Ascian officer glanced toward the gleaming coach. "No failure is permanent failure. But inevitable success may require new plans and greater strength."
"Then you approve of my new plan?" I had not been aware that I was perspiring, but now the sweat ran stinging into my eyes. I wiped my forehead with the edge of my cloak, just as Master Gurloes used to.
The Ascian officer nodded. "Study of Correct Thought eventually reveals the path of success."
"Yes," I said. "All right, I've studied it. Behind our efforts, let there be found our efforts."
When I returned to the coach, the same man-beast I had seen before came to the window again, not quite so hostile this time. I said, "The Ascians have agreed to try to push this thing out once more. We're going to have to unload it."
"That is impossible."
"If we don't, the gold will be lost with the sun. I'm not asking you to give it up just take it out and mount guard over it. You'll have your weapons, and if any human bearing arms comes close to you, you can kill him. I'll be with you, unarmed. You can kill me too."
It took a great deal more talking, but eventually they did it. I got the wounded who had been watching the Ascians to lay down their conti and harness eight of our destriers to the coach, and got the Ascians positioned to pull on the harness and heave at the wheels. Then the door in the side of the steel coach swung open and the man-beasts carried out small metal chests, two working while the one I had spoken to stood guard. They were taller than I had expected and had fusils, with pistols in their belts to supplement them the first pistols I had seen since I had watched the Hierodules use them to turn Baldanders's charges in the gardens of the House Absolute.
When all the chests were out and the three man-beasts were standing around them with their weapons at the ready, I shouted. The wounded troopers lashed every destrier in the new team, the Ascians heaved until their eyes started from their straining faces and just when we all thought it would not, the steel coach lifted itself from the mud and lumbered half a chain before the wounded could bring it to a halt. Guasacht nearly got us both killed by running down from the perimeter waving my contus, but the man-beasts had just sense enough to see that he was merely excited and not dangerous.
He got a great deal more excited when he saw the man-beasts carry their gold inside again, and when he heard what I had promised the Ascians. I reminded him that he had given me leave to act in his name.
"When I act," he sputtered, "it's with the idea of winning."
I confessed I lacked his military experience, but told him I had found that in some situations winning consisted of disentangling oneself.
"Just the same, I had hoped you would work out something better."
Rising inexorably while we remained unaware of their motion, the mountain peaks to the west were already clawing for the lower edge of the sun; I pointed to it.
Suddenly, Guasacht smiled. "After all, these are the same Ascians we took it from before."
He called the Ascian officer over and told him our mounted troopers would lead the attack, and that his soldiers could follow the steel coach on foot. The Ascian agreed, but when his soldiers had rearmed themselves, he insisted on placing half a dozen on top of the coach and leading the attack himself with the rest. Guasacht agreed with an apparent bad grace that seemed to me entirely assumed. We put an armed trooper astride each of the eight destriers of the new team, and I saw Guasacht conversing earnestly with their cornet.
I had promised the Ascian we would break through the cordon of deserters to the north, but the ground in that direction proved to be unsuited to the steel coach, and in the end a route north by northwest was agreed upon. The Ascian infantry advanced at a pace not much short of a full run, firing as they came.
The coach followed. The narrow, enduring bolts of the troopers' conti stabbed at the ragged mob who tried to close about it, and the Ascian arquebuses on its roof sent gouts of
violet energy crashing among them. The man-beasts fired their fusils from the barred windows, slaughtering half a dozen with a single blast.
The remainder of our troops (I among them) followed the coach, having maintained our perimeter until it was gone. To save precious charges, many put their conti through the saddle rings, drew their swords, and rode down the straggling remnant the Ascians and the coach had left behind.
Then the enemy was past, and the ground clearer. At once the troopers whose mounts pulled the coach clapped spurs to them, and Guasacht, Erblon, and several others who were riding just behind it swept the Ascians from its top in a cloud of crimson flame and reeking smoke. Those on foot scattered, then turned to fire.
It was a fight I did not feel I could take part in. I reined up, and so saw I believe, before any of the others the first of the anpiels who dropped, like the angel in Melito's fable, from the sun-dyed clouds. They were fair to look upon, naked and having the slender bodies of young women; but their rainbow wings spread wider than any teratornis's, and each anpiel held a pistol in either hand.
Late that night, when we were back in camp and the wounded had been cared for, I asked Guasacht if he would do as he had again.
He thought for a moment. "I hadn't any way of knowing those flying girls would come. Looking at it from this end, it's natural enough there must have been enough in that coach to pay half the army, and they wouldn't hesitate to send elite troops looking for it. But before it happened, would you have guessed it?"
I shook my head.
"Listen, Severian, I shouldn't be talking to you like this. But you did what you could, and you're the best leech I ever saw. Anyway, it came out all right in the end, didn't it? You saw how friendly their seraph was. What did she see, after all? Plucky lads trying to save the coach from the Ascians. We'll get a commendation, I should think. Maybe a reward."
I said, "You could have killed the man-beasts, and the Ascians too, when the gold was out of the coach. You didn't because I would have died with them. I think you deserve a commendation. From me, at least."
He rubbed his drawn face with both hands. "Well, I'm just as happy. It would have been the end of the Eighteenth; in another watch we'd have been killing each other for the money."
