He didn’t ask if the order was understood, simply putting heels to his horse and riding off toward the next company.
“That was simple,” said Praji, who sat on Calis’s left.
Calis said, “Let’s find this Master of the Camp and report in. We might as well get situated as quickly as possible.” He nodded at Praji and Vaja, who peeled off from the company without comment.
“What’s that?” asked Erik quietly.
Foster, who was riding next to Erik, said, “Keep your mouth shut.”
But Nakor laughed. “With all the confusion, it’s easy to get separated from one’s own company. It may take Praji and Vaja days to find out where we’re camped. They’ll have lots of time to hear many things.”
Calis shook his head and looked over his shoulder, as if warning the Isalani to keep this to himself, but the little man giggled in delight at the notion. He said, “I think I’ll get lost for a while, too.” He tossed his reins to Luis, saying, “I do better on foot,” and slid off his horse.
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companies were locked in milling confusion and Nakor had vanished into the press, ducking between horsemen who shouted curses as their horses shied at Nakor’s sudden movements.
Calis said, “He’s done this before.”
Foster looked after Nakor with black murder in his eyes, but Calis and de Loungville only shook their heads.
They found the Master of the Camp hours later. A narrow face with dark, darting eyes regarded them as Calis reported in. He made a mark on a document, then waved toward the riverbank. “Find a spot between here and two miles downriver. There are other companies scattered along both sides of the road. Find a campsite between the river and the road.
There should be a company calling itself Gegari’s Command, just to the north of you. Across the road will be a company under a captain named Dalbrine.
If you move south of that position, you will be assumed to be deserting and you will be hunted down. Those not killed will be brought back for public execution. And do not try to cross the river.” He made a vague motion across the river, where in the distance they could see a company of horse riding along at an easy lope.
Something bothered Erik, and then he realized that the riders and horses were far too large for the distance and the speed they were moving. He blinked as he tried to make sense of the image, then he realized what he was seeing. “Lizard men!” he said aloud without thinking.
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‘snakes,’ lest you incur her wrath.” He motioned for Calis to lead his company away as another company approached from behind.
Squinting against the afternoon sun, Erik tried to make sense of the distant riders.
“Those horses must be twenty hands,” said Sho Pi.
“Closer to twenty-two or -four,” said Erik.
“They’re bigger than draft animals, but they move like cavalry mounts.” As the riders moved away, he admired the fluid motion of the horses. The Saaur rode with an easy rocking seat, though their bodies looked oddly top-heavy, as their armor was cut in an almost triangular configuration due to flaring shoulder guards and a cinched waist. “I’d like to get a closer look at one of those horses,” said Erik.
“No you wouldn’t,” snapped de Loungville. “At least, not one with a rider on his back.”
Erik shook his head in wonder as the riders were lost in the distant afternoon haze.
They located the campsite, and Calis made a guarded introduction to his neighboring captains. It was clear that no one was feeling talkative, as none of the companies knew if those next to them were actively supporting the cause of the Emerald Queen or were those coerced into serving.
Erik was no military expert, but he got the feeling that in this strange country, with its custom of hiring men to fight as opposed to supporting standing armies, having men without loyalty under arms was not a very smart thing to do. Still, no general uprising seemed to be taking place, so Erik assumed those in command of this host knew something he didn’t, and left it at that.
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Calis ordered the men to bed down without erecting tents. There was no order given to dig a perimeter defense or erect a breastwork. It was clear without being said that he wanted the men to be up off the ground and on horseback in the shortest possible time if the need arose.
After the second day, the surrounding camps became small communities, to be visited if the men weren’t on duty. Bartering, gambling, swapping stories, or just alleviating the boredom of a camp between battles, the men wandered as far as they could without causing trouble. The level of trust was rising, albeit slowly, as those forced to serve grew more accepting of fate. They might resent having no choice as to who their new master was, but for most captains, one side was as good as the other, and booty was booty.
Some companies had an open attitude, welcoming a new face who might bring some news, gold to gamble, or just a break from the routine. But others were still wary, and twice Roo and Erik had been told to keep moving when they approached one of those camps.
The second night, Foster walked through the camp, stopping at every group of men to speak with them. He came upon Erik, Roo, Sho Pi, and Luis, who were sitting around a fire, watching as Biggo and Natombi took their turn cooking for the squad.
“Here!” he said, motioning for the men to stand.
When they did, he opened a purse and counted out two golden coins and five silver for each man. In a low voice he said, “Mercenaries get paid, and if you can’t buy something from a vendor or whore now and again, you’ll get people asking questions about 52887_Shadow of a Dark.qxd 9/3/02 3:50 PM Page 432
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us. And the first man who gets drunk and says the wrong thing into the wrong ear, I’ll personally have his liver on a stick!”
Erik hefted the coins, feeling them cold in his hand. He hadn’t held coins since leaving Darkmoor, he realized, and it made him feel good to be able to buy something. He put them into a pouch sewn into a seam in his tunic, where they would be safe.
Whores appeared later that night, plying their trade. Without tents, there was little privacy, but that seemed to bother few of the men. Many simply pulled the woman of their choice under a blanket and ignored whoever might be sitting a few feet away.
A pair of them came by where Erik and Roo sat, and one said, “Looking for some company, boys?”
Roo grinned and suddenly Erik found himself flushing with embarrassment. The last time whores had visited their camp, at the other site up on the tributary of the Vedra, he had been looking after the horses and they had moved on by the time he returned. He was certain he was the only man in camp who had never lain with a woman. Erik thought, I might never get the chance again. He looked at his friend, whose smile spread ear to ear, then found himself grinning back. “Why not?”
he asked.
One of the women said, “We get paid first?”
Roo laughed. “And pigs fly.” He waved at the camp. “We’re not going anywhere, but we can’t say the same for you, now, can we?”
The whore who had spoken gave him a sour look, but she nodded. “You’re not as young as you look, I wager.”
Roo stood up. “I’m older than I’ve ever been before in my life.”
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The whore looked confused by the statemen
t, but followed Roo as he motioned for her to follow.
Erik stood, finding himself alone with the other woman. She could have been young, but it was difficult to tell. A hard expression and the dim campfire light made it impossible to tell if she was closer to fifteen years or forty. Some grey in her dark hair convinced him she was older than he, but he didn’t know if that made him feel more comfortable or less.
“Here?” she asked.
“What?”
“Do you want to do it here, or somewhere else?”
Suddenly feeling profoundly embarrassed, Erik said, “Let’s go down by the river.”
He stuck out his hand awkwardly and she took it, her grip firm and her hand dry. He suddenly felt regret for the gesture, as his palm was damp and his grip uncertain.
She laughed softly and he said, “What?”
“First time, is it?”
He said, “Why . . . of course not, it’s just . . . been a long time, with travel and . . .”
“Of course,” she said. Erik couldn’t tell if there was warmth in her amusement or contempt. He led her down to the bank of the river, and nearly stepped on a couple who were in a frantic embrace. He moved to where it was relatively dark, and stood there uncertain.
The woman quickly was out of her clothing, and Erik felt his own body respond to the sight of her.
Her body was nothing extraordinary, a little plump around the hips and thighs, and her breasts sagged, but he suddenly thought of what he was about to do and he couldn’t get out of his clothing fast enough.
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He had his tunic off and was working on his boots when she said, “You’re a big lad, aren’t you?”
Erik looked down at his own body as if noticing it for the first time. The passage of time and the rig-ors of his life since being taken prisoner had hard-ened him to a fitness beyond what he had known at Ravensburg. Always strong, he had lost a softer outer layer of fat and now his powerful smith’s chest and shoulders were rippling muscle, as if he had been carved by a sculptor of the heroic. He said, “I’ve always been big for my age.”
He sat and pulled off his boots, and she came over, and took the top of his pants in a firm grip. Her voice was husky as she said, “Let’s see how big.” She pulled off his pants, and looking at his obvious readiness, she laughed and said, “Big enough!”
Considering her profession, she was tender. She took her time and didn’t laugh at Erik’s awkward fumbling. She calmed him when he needed it, and while their coupling was frantic and quick, there was some sense of caring in it. After it was over, she quickly dressed, but stayed a moment after he paid her. “What’s your name?”
“Erik,” he said, not sure if he was comfortable telling her. “You’re a wild boy, Erik, in a man’s body.
The right woman’s going to come to love your touch if you always remember how strong you are and how tender her flesh is.”
Suddenly he felt self-conscious. “Did I hurt you?”
She laughed. “Not really. You were . . . enthusiastic. I’ll have a bruise or two on my backside from hitting the damn ground so hard at the end there. But nothing like when those lads who like to slap a whore around get done with me.”
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Pulling on his clothing, Erik said, “Why do you do it?”
The woman shrugged in the gloom, the gesture almost lost, as she dressed. “What else can I do? My man was a soldier, like you. He died five years ago.
I have no family or rank. I can steal or whore.” She repeated, without apology or regret, “What else can I do?”
Before he could say anything more she was gone to seek another customer. Erik felt both relieved and empty. There had been something missing in their coupling, and Erik couldn’t tell what it was, but he also knew he was already anxious to try this wonderful thing again.
Six days after making camp, Erik saw Praji and Vaja riding up. Calis motioned for them to come over to where he sat, a short distance from Erik and his squad, who had just finished their midday meal. Men nodded greetings to the two old mercenaries, who walked to where Calis waited and knelt down next to him.
“What did you discover?” asked Calis.
Praji said, “Nothing terribly surprising.” With a wave of his hand to indicate those companies mustered on all sides, “We’re all boxed in between a range of hills to the east, the river over there, about twenty, twenty-five thousand swords to the north of us, and the armies of Lanada and Maharta mustering about fifty miles south of here.”
“The Raj of Maharta sent his army that far north?”
“That’s the rumor,” said Vaja, keeping his voice low so only those near Calis’s campfire could hear him.
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Praji said, “This campaign’s been going on for a dozen years, since the fall of Irabek. Sooner or later you’d think the Raj would figure it out. One by one, the cities of the river have fallen, each hoping its neighbor to the north would be the last the Emerald Queen took.”
Calis said, “What else?”
“We’re moving out in a few days, a week at the most, I think.”
“What did you hear?” asked Calis as Robert de Loungville and Charlie Foster approached to stand behind Calis.
Praji said, “Nothing that said, ‘We march in three days.’ Just watching and listening.”
Vaja waved to the north. “They’re building a large bridge across the river where the ferry is. Got at least six companies of engineers and a couple of hundred slaves working on it all day and all night.”
“No one from this side can go north without a pass,” said Praji.
“And no one can leave this area unless they have signed orders,” added Vaja.
“On the north side of the river,” continued Praji,
“there’s where all the old vets are gathered, the ones who’ve been at the heart of this campaign from the start, them and the Saaur lizard men.”
Calis was silent for a moment. “So we’re wall fodder?”
“Looks like,” said Praji.
Erik turned to the other men in his squad and whispered, “Wall fodder?”
Biggo kept his voice low so the officers wouldn’t hear him when he answered. “First to march to the wall, old son. You get ‘fed’ to the wall, as it were.”
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Luis made a motion of drawing a blade across his own throat. “First companies to hit the wall lose the most men,” he added softly.
Calis said, “We need to be alert. We’ve got to get closer to this Emerald Queen and her generals to find out what we really need to know. If that means we’re the first through the gate or over the wall to prove our worth, that’s what we’ll do. Once we know what we need to know, then we’ll worry about how we get the hell out of here.”
Erik lay back on his pallet, arm behind his head.
He watched as clouds scurried by overhead in the late afternoon breeze. He would have night watch, so he thought he’d try to get some rest.
But the thought of being the first to attack the wall of a city, that image returned again and again.
He’d killed four men so far, on three different occasions, but he’d never been in battle. He worried he would somehow do something wrong.
He was still contemplating the coming campaign when Foster came along and kicked his boots, telling him it was time to get to his post. Erik found himself surprised that it was now night. He had lost himself in contemplations of the coming struggle, and the sun had set without his noticing. He rose and got his sword and shield and moved down toward the river, to spend the next few hours watching for trouble.
He thought
it ironic that he was on guard in the midst of an army that would turn on Calis’s Crimson Eagles in an instant if they understood their real purpose, and from what he had no idea, as no enemy was closer than fifty miles. Still, he was told to go stand guard, and that he did.
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Nakor stood at the edge of the crowd, watching the priest lift up the dead sheep. The Saaur warriors closest to the fire let out a yell of approval, a deep-throated hissing, that echoed through the night like a cho-rus of enraged dragons. Those humans behind the circle of lizard men watched in fascination, for these rites were unknown to any but the Saaur. Many humans made signs of protection to their own gods and goddesses.
A great celebration was under way and Nakor was wandering freely through the various companies of men. He had seen many things and was both gratified and horrified: gratified that he had uncovered several key elements of the mystery that would help Calis best decide what to do next, and horrified because in his long life he had never met a gathering of evil men so concentrated in both numbers and malignancy.
The heart of this army was the Saaur, and a large company of men who called themselves the Chosen Guard. They wore both the common emerald armband and green scarves tied around their heads. Their malignancy was clearly demonstrated by one of their number who stood a short distance from Nakor, wearing a necklace of human ears. Rumor in the camp had it these were the most violent, dangerous, and depraved men in an army of dark souls. To join their ranks, one must have endured several campaigns and distinguished oneself by deeds black and numerous. It was rumored that the final act of acceptance was ritual cannibalism.
Nakor didn’t doubt it. But having visited cannibals in the Skashakan Islands in prior years, he also knew these men indulged in practices that would have revolted most cannibals.
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