“I would not have run like a jackal,” he roared, “even though they be fifty strong! But they have arrows! Now the situation is different! As soon as they have exhausted their supply of shafts, I will charge them. And you will be troubled no more!”
Except for Hadon, all stared. Hadon was accustomed to his bragging, if it was bragging. He wasn’t sure that Kwasin could not do just what he said he could do.
One of the savages must have been carrying a drum, since a booming came from somewhere in the mob. The savages yelled and screamed and started dancing, with the exception of ten archers. These circled the hill and slowly started up it. A slinger, at Tadoku’s order, loosed a missile at one of them. The man had time to duck, and he yelled a warning at the others. They retreated a few steps.
The pounding of the drum increased its tempo, and with a yell the savages quit dancing and began running toward the hill. They came in a disorganized mob, some of them tripping over others. In their lead was a tall fellow with a sunburst of yellow painted on his forehead and five ostrich feathers sticking out of his hair.
“That’s their leader!” thundered Kwasin. “Here, you, give me your sling!” He tore a sling from the grasp of a startled man and squeezed his other hand. The slinger yelled with pain; Kwasin caught the falling bicone with his left hand.
Hadon almost struck Kwasin with his sword. “You don’t give orders or interfere with discipline!” he shouted. “I am the commander, and if you stay here, you will obey me!”
Kwasin looked startled; then he grinned. “You, my cousin the stripling?” he said. “In command? Kho, how things have changed! Well, cousin, I owe you my life, so far, so I will obey you like a good soldier during this battle—if I like your orders. But grant me this one indulgence!”
Holding the two ends of the sling, he whirled it around and above his head and then loosed it with a ha! The missile sped true, so far that the slingers gave a low cry of amazement. The chief of the savages suddenly fell backward. The others stopped, piled up, and crowded around him; in a minute they cried out a mourning. They withdrew then, leaving the corpse on its back while their new leader took over.
This time, ten archers advanced while the rest, brandishing spears and axes, trailed behind them. Halfway up the hill, the archers stopped and aimed their bows. There was a twang, and the arrows flew upward. At the same time, the slingers, at Tadoku’s orders, loosed their missiles.
The archers were at a disadvantage in having to shoot uphill. Most of the arrows went too high or too low, but one plunged through a shield of wood and leather and through an arm. Another struck a slinger through the throat. The archers retreated, dragging two corpses and two wounded with them. They went just far enough to be beyond effective range of the slingers. There was a roar, and the spearmen and axmen surged forward up the hill past the archers, who then followed them. These fired over the heads of their fellows, but the arrows went at too high an angle to hit the Khokarsans.
Kwasin suddenly gave a yell and leaped over the two rows of the kneelers, landed, and ran down the hill waving his huge club. Hadon gasped; that jump would have done credit to a lion. Then, seeing that those in the forefront of the enemy turned and ran into those behind them, Hadon shouted an order. The soldiers stood up and began to form into a wedge shape. Hadon waited impatiently until they had arranged themselves into a ragged V, and he gave the command to charge.. He was at the head, as was his duty, his sword held in two hands. Ahead and below, Kwasin smashed into a knot of men, and they and he went over and were rolling in a tangle down the hill. But he was up again and swinging the club as if it were a wand, smashing spears out of the way, cracking skulls, shattering arms.
The savages broke and ran, and Hadon was the only one of his force besides Kwasin to spill their blood. He overtook a squat man pumping his short legs furiously and with a stroke sent his head rolling from his shoulders. The body continued running, blood spurting a foot high from its neck, and then it fell forward.
The savages ran until they were near the clump of trees. There they regained their wind and talked for some time. Hadon ordered his men to retreat to the top of the hill. The wounded would be treated while he decided what to do next. He had considered charging them while they were still disorganized, but he was afraid that his men might get carried away and break ranks in pursuit. If they did, they might get cut off.
Hinokly said, “I think that if we’d let them take their dead, they’d go away. They can’t take many casualties; they need every able-bodied man for hunting, and the survivors won’t like having to take care of the dead men’s families. From what I know of these savages, they would just as soon go home with the corpses and brag to their women what great fighters they are and how they slaughtered us.”
“What will they have to show their wives as trophies?” Tadoku said.
“We’ll have to give them our dead, too. Part of them, anyway. If these are like the others I’ve seen, they’ll want the heads and the prepuces.”
“The ghosts of our dead would never forgive us!” Hadon said.
“Well, you can bury them and march off. But these savages will dig them up after we’ve left and take what they want,” Hinokly said. “Of course, then the ghosts will be angry at the savages, not us.”
Four of his men were dead and six wounded, three severely. The enemy had discharged about half of their arrows, but they still had enough left to inflict heavy casualties. However, they were undisciplined. If Hinokly was right, they would be glad to retreat with honor. On the other hand, they knew the country, and they might be able to arrange an ambush later on. Or they might dog them, trying to pick them off one by one. It would be better to smash them now and utterly discourage any thoughts of further attack. It would be worth it, even if he sustained more casualties.
Hadon went to Kwasin, who was sitting on the slope with the dead around him and blowing like a hippopotamus. He was terrible-looking, splashed with blood, though none of it seemed to be his own.
“Do you feel up to leading another charge?” Hadon said, knowing that his words would sting Kwasin.
“Up to it, cousin?” Kwasin rumbled. “I was just planning on charging them all by myself, as soon as I recovered my wind!”
“In which case you would bristle with arrows,” Hadon said. And a good idea that is, he thought.
Kwasin heaved himself up and said, “I am ready. I will eat them up; my club will pound them into bread.”
“It is better to let men see deeds than hear words,” Hadon said. He called Tadoku to him. After a short consultation, Tadoku arranged the men into battle order. With ten slingers in each wing and twenty-four spearmen in the center, they advanced on the enemy. Hadon and Kwasin were about ten feet ahead of the spearmen.
The savages lined up two deep with the archers’ in the rear and the spear and ax men kneeling in the front. When his force was just out of arrow range, Hadon ordered the center to stop while the wings advanced. Some of the savages, becoming nervous, loosed ineffectual arrows. The slingers kept on coming, and then they stopped and cast their stones. Two savages fell, and the archers began firing. Three of his slingers fell, at which Hadon gave the order to charge. The slingers dropped their slings, unslung their little round shields, pulled out short, heavy leaf-shaped swords or axes, and ran yelling forward. A few more arrows whistled around the Khokarsans, but none struck.
Their chief shouted at them, apparently urging them to hold. But the sudden exhaustion of their arrows and the glinting of the sun on the bronze swords and spearheads seemed to unnerve them. Or perhaps it was the sight of the bloody giant Kwasin roaring and waving his club. Before he could get to them, they turned and ran. All, that is, except their chief. He ran desperately at Kwasin and hurled his spear, but Kwasin struck it aside in its flight and was on the chief. The chief pulled his flint knife from his leather belt, but he must have known that he had no chance. He seemed to stand as paralyzed as a sheep about to have its throat cut, and his head broke apart under t
he brassbound club. Hadon was disappointed. He had hoped that they would hold, and thus be so badly hurt that they would from then on leave his men alone.
From the speed with which they were retreating, however, it seemed that they intended to run forever.
Kwasin leaned on his club, panting, and then sat down on the grass in a puddle of blood, bone, and brains.
“I feel as if I could sleep and eat for a week!” he muttered.
Hadon gestured to Tadoku and told him to bring four slingers and four spearmen. Then he stood over Kwasin, his sword raised in both hands. He said, “Cousin, I must have your oath by Kho and Sisisken that you will obey me from now on as if you were the least of my men. This is a military organization, and no one may accompany us who does not acknowledge me as the chief. Either give your word or die! I will not let you go, since I know how vindictive you are! You would get revenge later!”
Kwasin’s face became even redder, and he stared as if he could not believe what he was hearing. He started to get to his feet, but when Hadon raised the sword higher, Kwasin sank back.
“You would take off my head?”
“This sword has sheared through the neck of a lion,” Hadon said. “And thick as your neck is, a lion’s is thicker.”
“This isn’t fair!” Kwasin said. “You can see how tired I am! My muscles quiver as if they were jelly, and I am slow with fatigue! Another time, and I would knock your legs out from under you with my club and break your back with my bare hands!”
“This is not another time,” Hadon said. “Give me your word now, or you will speak no more.”
“My ghost would haunt you and bring you, too, down to the queendom of Sisisken,” Kwasin said.
“I’ll take that chance. Quickly now! Karken hungers for Kwasin.”
“What?” Kwasin said.
“Karken, my father’s sword.”
Suddenly Kwasin lay flat on his back and laughed. It was weak laughter, because he was so tired. But it was evident that he thought the joke was on him and he was willing to laugh at himself. Hadon watched him warily, because Kwasin might be trying to gain an advantage. Kwasin sat back up and said, “You’re the only man who ever stood up to me, Hadon, and lived to brag about it. And you wouldn’t be doing that if you were not shrewd as a fox and know that I am too fatigued to lift my club. Very well, I swear by mighty Kho Herself that I will obey you until you die or until we get back to civilization. After that, my oath no longer holds.”
“You heard him,” Hadon said to Todaku.
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He lowered the sword and walked away. A moment later, he looked back. Kwasin, still sitting, was wiping off the club on the grass.
Hadon ordered the force to fill their canteens and water-bags from the waterhole and then to bathe in it. He cleaned off his sword and saw to the wounded, among whom were three savages.
That evening they buried the dead and cut the throats of two of the wounded savages, draining the blood into a leather helmet so that the ghosts might drink from it. In the morning one of the wounded soldiers had died, and he was buried and the surviving savage was sacrificed over his grave. That left two walking wounded and three whose recovery, if any, would take weeks. One was a Klemqaba whose sergeant obligingly put him out of his pain after being forgiven for shedding his blood. The remaining two, humans, were placed in litters made out of poles, and the expedition resumed its march.
Days passed with a feeling of smallness, isolation, and pointlessness growing larger each day. The mountains on the right, the unending savanna on the left, were the same. Mountains, trees, and lion-yellow grass were always there in the burning sun, and when the eyes were closed for sleep, they were still there behind the lids. Again and again, Hadon wondered what he would do when he reached the shores of the Ringing Sea. Which way to go, east or west, or turn southward? Where in this vast land could the three he sought be? For all he knew, he might pass by their bones and never see them. They could be hidden in the grass, behind a bush, in a hollow. Or they might be alive but only a few miles away, perhaps lying behind some bushes and afraid to call to them.
One of the wounded died one night, and for no reason that the doctor could determine. He had been well enough to walk and had even been joking when he lay down to sleep. And in the morning he was dead.
A hunter died of a snakebite; another, of an insect bite. A third just disappeared, and though Hadon sent out searchers, they could find no trace. One evening a Klemqaba and a Klemklakor quarreled. The latter was killed and the former was badly wounded. For one tense moment the Bear and the Goat people were about to fall on each other. Hadon shouted that he would massacre them all if any on either side used his weapon. This would have been a laughable threat, since the tattooed soldiers outnumbered the others. But Kwasin was looming behind Hadon and shaking his great club, and the chiefs of the two groups harshly ordered their men to lay down their arms. Hadon conducted a court-martial and found that the survivor had been the offender. Fortunately, he did not have to execute him. He died that night.
As for Kwasin, he was an endless irritant. His bragging and boasting got on Hadon’s nerves, and though he obeyed Hadon’s orders, he jeered at him. Hadon remonstrated with him for this, but Kwasin merely said, “I did not swear to keep my mouth shut.”
Kwasin did have some interesting stories, however. After he had been sentenced to exile, he had been shipped to the city of Towina, which lies southwest of the island of Khokarsa on, the shore of the Kemu. From there Kwasin had been escorted deep inland to the last outpost. He had wandered into the Western Lands, his club on his shoulder, stalking wonder and terror as if he were an ogre. At least, that was the way it was if he were to be believed.
“At first there were only the savannas, endless leagues over which great herds of antelopes and elephants roamed. And over which hundreds of prides of lions and packs of wild dogs and the lightning-streak cheetah hunted. I have a mighty body to feed, as you no doubt observed, and I would starve on meat that would make two men fat. How was I to kill the fleet and wary antelope, I, with my great body which can be so easily detected and with only a club and a knife to hunt with?
“And then I saw how the hyena and the jackal follow the lions and how these beasts, thought to be so cowardly, would dash in behind a lion, sometimes in front, snatch a piece of meat, and dash away. And I also observed packs of wild dogs worry a lion eating a carcass and sometimes drive him off. So I said to myself, very well, I will let the lion do the killing for me and then take his meat away from him. And so I did. I would walk up to the carcass and its killer, or its killers, since lions usually work in prides, and I would run them off. Or if they attacked, as they often did, I would stun them with my club or break their legs. Then I would cut off enough meat from the kill to last me several days and leave the rest for the lion. Or if I had killed a lion, I would eat him.”
Hadon noticed Kebiwabes taking this in. Doubtless the bard was thinking of composing another epic, The Song of the Wanderings of Kwasin. Hadon felt jealous, though he also felt that jealousy was unworthy of him.
“Every once in a while, I would see a small group of blacks, and then I would stalk them and swoop in, smashing them, and would run off with a woman. I am as lusty as a sea otter or a hare, as you well know, Hadon, and where one man may be satisfied with one woman or indeed unable to satisfy one woman, I need a dozen. The black women are ugly and do not bathe often, but one must be philosophical and thank Kho for what is available.”
“And did you then kill these women?” Hadon said.
“Only with a surfeit of love!” Kwasin said, and he guffawed. “No, I let them go, though few were able to rise and walk away at once. And some begged me in their tongue, which I did not understand, of course, but the expressions were eloquent, some, I say, were obviously begging me to keep them. No, I did not kill them. I wanted them to bear my sons and daughters, since the breed needs improving, and eventually, who knows, all the blacks of the Western Lands may be my descendan
ts.
“By the way, I see you have only one woman with you, and she is an ugly Klemqaba. Where is the priestess?”
“She is the priestess,” Hadon said. “Don’t force yourself on her, or you may be doubly cursed by Kho. Besides which, I would regard that as a serious, that is, fatal, breach of discipline.”
“And if I should humbly ask her?” Kwasin said, sneering.
“She may accept you as a husband. By now she is married to half the men and all the Goat and Bear people.”
Kwasin haw-hawed and said, “Once I have been with her, she will divorce the others. Well, I am glad we are in the Wild Lands, where the savages are white and not so squat, and some of the women, under the stink and the dirt and the paint, may even be good-looking. But surely, Hadon, you are not married to this half-ape?”
“Of course not,” Hadon said stiffly.
Kwasin laughed again and said, “To continue! Then I came to the jungles, where there were no lions to hunt for me. The leopardess is queen there, and it is not easy to find her in that thick tangle. I thought I would starve, but then I came across a great river—”
“The Bohikly?” Kebiwabes said. “The river discovered by the expedition of Nankar in six-eighty-five A.T.?”
Kwasin stared and said, “Do not presume on your sacred status as a bard and interrupt me, Kebiwabes. Only Hadon may do that, since I have sworn an oath of obedience. However, I do not mind intelligent questions. Anyway, I found thousands of crocodiles along that river, and so I took to dashing out of the jungle and overhauling them before they could get into the water and cracking their thick skulls with my club. They make good eating. Occasionally I found a tiny settlement of blacks along the river, though mostly in the northern regions. Apparently they haven’t worked their way down to its mouth yet. Then I would ravage among them and ravish their women. Some of them I kept so they could teach me to find plant life, since I was weary of meat only.
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