“But now you’ve spoiled it all!” Murf exploded.
“Calm yourself. How?”
Murf sighed.
“Well, listen, then. You won’t believe me, but it’s too late to matter now. If Doog had carried his message, here is what would have happened:
“Riders would have left Govern’s headquarters and contacted all Mic and Mac commanders along the western and northern borders of this country. On all fronts a series of brief and ineffectual raids would have taken place. Little life would have been lost, but the Brish armies would have had their hands so full that none of them would have dared leave the borders unguarded for a minute.
“It would be made to appear that the country was in imminent danger of a massed invasion. The commanders of the Brish armies would have ignored a summons from any noble who might manage to get a message from one of the cities. As it is some noble is sure to get out of one of the cities, and will have no trouble dragging away a large force to fight the rebels.”
“One already has, I greatly fear!” replied Mark. “But let’s hear some more. How do you know Govern would do all this, instead of waiting a day or two and then invading after some of the Brish armies were removed?”
“Who has escaped?”
“Erlayok. But he might still be inside the city. Suppose you answer my question.”
“Gladly. Govern would have done as I said because I ordered him to.”
Mark shoved back his battered helmet and scratched his head. “Elucidate, my friend. This is getting screwier and screwier.”
“NO DOUBT,” grinned Murf. “There are a lot of things you don’t know. In fact there are a lot of things none of the Brish know. Except, perhaps, Erlayok and a few army generals. I’ll explain:
“I am Murf, second son of Rever, King of Eire, by his second wife, Ann Murfy. The plan to overthrow the despotic rule of Erlayok and his nobles originated in the council chambers of my father. And with the full knowledge of the ruler of the Macs. Not with the idea of conquest.
“But because we Mics and the Macs as well, are sick of the continual fighting on the borders.
“The British will tell you that their armies are purely defensive equipment. They believe it because Erlayok wants them to believe it. He couldn’t make them pay taxes so readily otherwise. But the truth of the matter is that Erlayok has made repeated attempts to invade our territory, and has actually succeeded in grabbing a few small pieces.
“And though we can stop him by keeping eternally vigilant, the expense has raised our taxes so that we are little better off than the Brish. We want to stop it! We don’t want our people to suffer as the Brish have suffered. And the best way to stop it is to set up a government here which will consider the welfare of the people.”
“Pretty, smart,” Mark commented. “A puppet government to pay tribute to the Mics, and the Macs.”
Murfs face became as red as his hair. “No!” he shouted. “A government which will give us peace by disbanding its armies!”
Mark looked at the redhead quizzically. If Murf was telling the truth... He decided to find out.
Murf became suddenly calm as Mark’s eyes bored into his own. He relaxed visibly. Mark hesitated and then began to question him, certain that under the influence of hypnosis he would tell the truth.
Bit by bit, Mark extracted the story. Several times rebels passed along the street, but it looked to them as if Mark and Murf were carrying on an ordinary conversation.
Sandy, he learned, had been killed in a perfectly legitimate duel, which Sandy himself had started. Murf had hit Smid to stop him from telling the dispatch riders of the changed orders. He had done it in good faith, genuinely afraid that if Mark’s machines were installed, the rebellion would be impossible, due to interference from the armies.
He considered his own plan of keeping them busy, a mere practical one. But he didn’t dare tell of it without revealing his connection with the Mics, realizing that no Brish would believe it possible for a Mic to be anything but an enemy.
As an inspiration Mark asked about the status quo of the Brish borders, and was surprised to learn that they had been approximately the same for hundreds of years, except for the times when the Brish had grabbed a bit of land here and there. Erlayok’s story of continual invasion from the west was a lie.
Satisfied, Mark released the redhead from his trance.
“I owe you an apology,” he said. “You should have told me, and this would never have happened. I’m not Brish, you know. Get up on that horse. You and Smid are going to shake hands!”
Chapter 23: Three Days of Doubt
BACK at headquarters Smid jumped up from his seat at the table when he caught sight of Murf. Mark motioned him down again and dismissed several rebel dispatch riders from the room. Smid’s eyes were gleaming murderously and a hand involuntarily raised to caress the spot where Murf had broken the scalp.
Mark told him the whole story, not forgetting to mention the hypnotic trance which guaranteed its truth. As he talked he saw the hard expression leave Smid’s eyes to be replaced by one of incredulity.
“But...” He started to object, and was silenced by Mark.
“I’ve told you it’s all true,” Mark stated. “Propaganda by Erlayok notwithstanding. The Brish have been fooled for years. I can see that now. Nobody has a kick coming about the distribution of land. The Mics and the Macs don’t want any more. And the Brish have all they need. The borders can remain as they are and the armies disbanded.”
Smid nodded. “If you believe, then I can,” he said, and turned to Murf. “Forget the bump on the head. It was included in your philosophy: No one man can stand in the way of the cause.”
Murf stretched out his hand and Smid took it.
“Now that that’s settled,” said Mark, “what’s the latest news?”
It was pretty nearly all good, according to Smid. The city was completely in the hands of the rebels.
Furthermore, their ranks has been swelled considerably by citizens whom they had been leery about approaching before, not to mention a good many soldiers who had no great love for the nobles.
News had come in from the duchy to the west that everything was under control. And best of all, there had been few unnecessary deaths and practically no wanton destruction of property.
But on the other side of the ledger was the fact that Erlayok, the most dangerous of the rebels, had escaped completely. No rider brought any word of him.
“There is one thing certain,” said Smid. “The earl will send immediately for his entire forces at the border.”
“Have Erlaken and Erlahul brought here at once,” ordered Mark. “There is still a chance to checkmate him.”
Under his direction Smid prepared official orders for the entire armies of the two earls to proceed under forced march to Scarbor. Completed, the orders only awaited the signatures of Erlaken and Erlahul to make them authentic. Smid already had the necessary seals at hand.
Mark turned to Murf. “Is there any chance that a move like this will cause Govern to investigate? If he moves any forces across the border, there will be trouble.”
“He won’t move an inch over the line without orders from me.”
The two nobles were ushered into the guard room. In a few words Mark explained that he wanted of them. But as he talked he could see in their faces that the nobles had no intentions of complying.
“Your rule,” he finished, “has been directed wholly by Erlayok. Here is a chance to do something useful on your own.”
Erlaken laughed derisively. “We have been more or less ordered about by Erlayok, but our lands have been our own. You would place our wealth in the hands of the rabble. You’ll get no help from us!”
“A misconception on your part,” stated Mark. “When the new government is organized, your lands will still be your own. And you might even take useful parts in the management of that government, if your actions show you to be qualified. If we were so stupid as to kill off the better brains
of the country, you would be dead now. But under the new government there will be no oppressive taxation, and no man will wield any power over the freedom of another man. High taxes won’t be necessary, for a large army won’t be needed. A fair income will be left you.”
Erlahul sneered. “Armies won’t be needed, eh? Shall we just send written invitations to our enemies?”
MARK’S face went grim. He saw futility of trying to convince these men. “I’ve no more time to waste,” he said, turning to Smid. “These men have wives and children, haven’t they?”
Smid nodded. The two nobles paled.
“There are some who think that all aristocrats should be exterminated,” Mark said. “They can’t seem to get it into their heads that you have countenanced the injustices meted out to them only because those things appeared to you to be the order of the day.
“They don’t realize that such things have been entirely impersonal to you, and that you have never given any great thought to the matter. That you are really only guilty of laziness. They seem to think that you are malicious and cruel by nature, and that you won’t change. They want revenge!
“I guess the best thing for me to do is to let you convince them that they’re wrong, and wash my hands of the whole thing. Women are eloquent talkers. I’ll see that your wives are given a chance to talk to these thick-headed ones, too.” Without further ado, the two nobles stepped forward and signed the orders. Mark had them returned to the safety of their own castles. His bluff had worked. Strangely, to both Murf and Smid, Mark burst into laughter. He had just remembered that he could have obtained the signatures instantly by means of hypnotism.
THE day dragged on endlessly, with no word from any of the other cities. A courier of Erlaken’s retinue had been dispatched with the orders for the return of the nobles’ armies. The man was known to the generals of the armies. These forces were the nearest to the City of Scarbor of all the armies of the lesser nobles, and Mark fervently hoped they would arrive before Erlayok’s men.
There was a good chance that they would for although Erlayok’s forces had a shorter distance to traverse, the country was rougher and the travel slower.
At the best there would be no sign of either army for three days.
Working almost continuously, the rebel leaders, with the valuable help of Jon, utilized the time in getting all the fighting men at hand ready to defend the city.
By the third day the city was as orderly and quiet as if no rebellion had taken place. More so, if anything, for there were no rowdy gangs of carousing soldiers on the streets.
Mark noticed in the faces of the people a certain quality which hadn’t been there before. Heads were higher, and everywhere people seemed to feel freedom from fear. It wasn’t generally known that there was still a good possibility that this freedom might be snatched from them at any minute.
Mark had thought it better that way, for if everything went all right the armies of Erlaken and Erlahul would arrive in time to protect the city from Erlayok’s forces. If they didn’t, no purpose would be served by getting the civilian population uneasy by telling them of the impending battle. Everything was being done for the defense of the city which could be done. There were dozens of outposts stationed along the routes by which both armies would approach.
In matters of civil government Jon showed his ability. The smooth, orderly way the city’s normal operation was restored was due mainly to his efforts.
Murf and Smid quickly realized that Mark’s choice of the Duke as the future supreme ruler of the Brish was a wise one. He had been born to the job and was by far the most capable man for it.
During the morning of the third day dispatches arrived from the most distant of the cities informing them that the victory had gone to the rebels. Order had been restored and the rebel commanders were taking charge of all civil activities until such time as the permanent government took hold.
About noon of the third day, the blow fell.
A rider came into the prison courtyard, his horse covered with lather. He brought the news that Mark had been expecting. Less than ten miles outside of the city a large body of horsemen had been sighted coming from the north. They were estimated at about five hundred. But by their comparative slow pace it was believed that they were followed by a much larger body of men on foot.
No word was forthcoming from the route to the west, the direction from which their own forces would come.
“How many horses have we?” Mark inquired of Smid.
“A bare two hundred,” was the answer. “But we can commandeer perhaps a thousand.”
A hasty conference followed. It was planned to send only three hundred horsemen to engage the vanguard of Erlayok’s forces. There was a thick wood to the west of the city at a distance of about two miles. The plan was for the rebel horsemen to engage the enemy briefly and then retreat, drawing them toward the forest. Previously placed in concealment would be as many archers as they could muster. These would pick off the enemy and capture as many horses as possible.
With the captured horses and the ones which could be commandeered, the rebels would be mounted and would be used against the main body of the enemy army. It was assumed, of course, that the enemy cavalry had all been sighted, and their total number was somewhere near five hundred.
It was a safe assumption, for it wasn’t likely that any horsemen would be at the rear of the enemy forces. Their objective was directly before them and no flank was to be considered.
The big unknown factor in the rebels’ plans was the number of foot soldiers they would have to fight.
Chapter 24: Lonely Battle
MARK rode at the head of the rebel cavalry. They approached the enemy from a tangent, slightly to the west of their line of march. Mark could see beyond the mounted force to the infantry behind it. And well to the rear he saw, bulking large in the midst of the walking soldiers, a horse and a rider. The animal was of tremendous proportion.
Even in the distance Mark could guess that it was a work horse pressed into service for an unusual purpose. On its back rode a huge man. Erlayok.
The rebel coup was carried out without a hitch. They engaged the enemy, and as Erlayok’s cavalry began to execute a flanking move, by curling the ends of their formation into a crescent shape, Mark’s horsemen retreated in what looked like a disorganized rout.
The enemy saw its chance to wipe out the inferior force, and followed at a gallop.
But when Mark’s group reached the edge of the wood, it suddenly turned to give battle. And the archers got in their deadly work as the two bodies clashed.
Only a few escaped to return to the main body of Erlayok’s army. And the horses taken were over three hundred.
At another conference between Mark, Jon, Murf and Smid, a plan for the next engagement was hastily worked out. Jon had taken part in the first brush, for the archers had been mainly his own men. But when the plans for the coming engagement were completed, he was surprised to find himself suddenly thrust into a cell.
To his indignant protests, Mark only grinned. Murf gave the key to the cell to Spud, with orders that if the enemy penetrated into the city to release the Duke and give him a chance to get his family to safety.
“You see,” explained Mark. “One man won’t make much difference out there. And it’s going to be your job to run this country if we succeed in beating Erlayok. Men like you and Smid are not to be risked on the battlefield. You’re too valuable.”
They left him still protesting and went out to lead their forces, Mark with the cavalry and Murf with the infantry. They didn’t delay, but put their plans into action at once. The further from the city the battle took place, the better.
Murf led his forces directly to the north, toward the center of Erlayok’s main body. Mark remained out of sight with about twelve hundred horsemen, until the ground force was over halfway to the enemy.
The plan was to allow Erlayok’s generals to observe that the opposing force was far inferior to their own. Th
e obvious reaction would be to spread their men along a wide front, with the idea of flanking the smaller body.
It worked. But just before the two armies clashed and too late for the enemy to reform, Mark’s cavalry dashed around the sides of Murf’s force and plowed into the far-flung ends of enemy formation.
The maneuver was executed with such perfect timing that Erlayok’s forces were thrown into confusion. Their superiority in numbers was quickly cut down. The compact central body of Murf’s fighters, even though untrained and poorly equipped, cut the enemy forces in half.
Mark, in the thick of the battle, was dividing his attention between murderous use of his flashing axe, and keeping an eye on the whole engagement.
He looked ahead to the point where he had last seen the ponderous white horse of Erlayok’s.
For a few minutes, the business of keeping enemy swords from hamstringing him kept him absorbed, and the next time he saw Erlayok, Erlayok was urging his mount to a gallop, in full retreat. Mark glanced ahead of him. There, coming at a trot, was a large body of foot-soldiers.
Mark ordered a retreat, on the double.
The rebel cavalry allowed Murf’s group to retire first, covering their retreat. But the shattered forces of the enemy made no attempt to pursue. They reformed and waited for the new arrivals to come up.
It would have been folly to attempt to fight any longer out in the open. They were outnumbered two to one. The only hope now lay in keeping the enemy from entering the city. If they could hold Erlayok off until the armies of the other earls arrived, victory was certain.
Mark was assailed by a sudden fear when he thought of this. It was possible that something had happened to Erlaken’s courier, and no armies would arrive! He had thought of sending several men for that job, but had hated to take any of his fighters away at a time when it appeared he would need every man.
Fortunately the City of Scarbor was not a scraggly affair with its houses thinning toward its outer edges. It had been built obviously for defense. Its edges were clearly defined and not jutting out haphazardly. The last house on each street came opposite the last house on the adjoining street.
The Best of Argosy #6 - Minions of Mars Page 18