A Dubious Peace

by Olan Thorensen

  Synton grunted. “I’m surprised the poor beast has borne up under the load of that oaf. I’ll do what I can.”

  They moved to catch up with the Seaborn dragoons who had stopped a hundred yards farther along the trail. It had widened as the slope became shallower. Finally, the trail topped the crest and wove through a boulder field until it opened to a flat area thirty or forty yards wide and maybe three hundred yards long before there was another boulder field. The rocks were up to eight feet tall. Yozef glanced skyward. The higher reaches on both sides appeared fractured. It flashed through his mind that big pieces came loose and crashed down over the years. At the second field, ten Seaborners had dismounted and joined Oston, Synton, and Carnigan as the rest of the party continued. They had traveled only another two hundred yards when a boom echoed between the walls on both sides.

  “My God,” said Maera. “Carnigan fired already. They must be closer than we thought.”

  “He must have fired at the ones who came out of the first boulder field. That’s way less than the cannon’s range, but I bet Carnigan hit one of their horses. That may give them pause for at least a minute or two before they try to come forward. It’s more than enough time for him to reload. Then the other men will come into play. There’s no room for a mass charge. The area is too narrow. The raiders’ leader will already know their only chance is to dismount and try to flank our men. “

  Another boom. Faint yells. A third boom, then the dragoon rifles. A few muskets answered, then stopped.

  “Their leader must have told them to stop firing if we’re still out of musket range,” said Toowin.

  Three more booms accompanied by rifles—Carnigan, Synton, and the ten Pewitt men. Then muskets again for the first time since the scattered shots three minutes earlier. Yozef imagined more raiders finding positions with rock cover to fire from and men sent upslope on both sides. The latter would be clearly exposed. Yozef wondered what inducements, or threats, it took to make men to push this hard.

  Carnigan’s destrex rifle had been firing about every thirty seconds. Over two minutes had passed since the last boom, although rifle and musket fire continued. The trail used by the rest of the party continued, but what was below them revealed itself to be a blind canyon.

  Thala called out from her forward position. “Another three or four hundred yards, and we’ll reach the top of the next ridge and start down. The slope is shallower on the other side, and this trail, wider. We’ll make better time.”

  Her estimate was off . . . they reached the top in fewer than two hundred yards. They stopped to let the horses rest a couple minutes. That’s when Carnigan caught up with them. He was leading two horses tied tail to bridle, two wounded dragoons in the saddles. The first man was tied to the saddle and had blood-soaked clothing on his right side. The other man was alert, but his forearm was wrapped in his coat. He winced every time his mount’s left foreleg hit the ground.

  “The rest will be along in a minute. They left one dead. One of the Pewitt men thinks the language he heard the raiders use is Kolinkan. He works at the Penmawr docks when not on military duty and says he’s heard ships’ crews from different Iraquinik kahsaks at the docks and in pubs.”

  “Is he positive?” asked Maera.

  Carnigan shrugged. “How do I know? That’s what he says.”

  “We saw a Kolinka ship at Brudermyn,” said Yozef. “And at least one Kolinkan was watching when I got off the ship. He stared at me strangely.”

  “Synton noticed them in Penmawr,” said Carnigan. “He said something about disliking them from spending a night in a Brudermyn pub.”

  “Kolinkans or not, what’s their status?” asked Yozef.

  “It will take them time to move the dead horses. I shot some when they first came into range. The Kolinkans, if that’s who they are, stopped at first but then came on no matter the casualties. We pulled back into the second boulder field where the way ahead was restricted again. When they came forward, they couldn’t be sure where we were. Synton had the men hold their fire until the lead Kolinkans reached a narrow spot. That’s where they now have three dead horses wedged together. It’ll be a devil of a time moving them.”

  “All right, let’s keep going,” said Yozef.

  Thala was right. The trail was now wider and trended downhill. When Synton caught up with them, there was room for him to pass other riders to reach Yozef. They didn’t even have to stop to converse. Synton leaned in his saddle and gestured for Yozef to do the same.

  “Carnigan told you how we blocked the trail?”

  Yozef nodded.

  “It’ll slow them, but they’ll keep coming. Before we lost sight of them, I saw them hacking at the bodies. The fuckers even had axes. What cavalry carries axes? And their damn horses! The ones I could see looked fresh compared to ours. If the ground opens up before Grastor, like Thala and Reezo believe, they’re going to catch us.”

  “Thala says we’re almost through this tight terrain,” said Yozef. “If they close in after that, they’ll catch us. The question is whether they want me badly enough to get that close to Grastor. That’s assuming this is just a raiding party and not a full-scale invasion.”

  “Nothing we can do if that’s the case,” Synton said. “But assuming it’s not, should we give one man our best horse and have him kill it getting to Grastor?”

  “How’s that going to help? He won’t get there much sooner than the rest of us will.”

  “Face it, Yozef. We’ll have to stand and fight somewhere. Best if it’s before we reach countryside with no cover. Maybe we can hold on until help comes from Grastor.”

  Yozef didn’t speak for almost a minute. Neither did anyone else in their column.

  “I was hoping you had other ideas,” said Yozef.

  “So, you see it, too?”

  “It’ll have to be somewhere open enough where we can get all our rifles firing at the same time and with enough cover. Then we just have to wear them down until they quit.”

  “I doubt that’s going to happen, but it’s our best chance. And you’re right about needing more room. Back where we slowed them, in place, we couldn’t get more than three men firing at the same time. There just wasn’t enough room with the firing lines.”

  Synton smiled—an expression Yozef usually believed was unsettling for most people but in this circumstance was strangely reassuring.

  “Get to the front,” Yozef ordered. “Apprise Reezo and the Seaborn leader of the situation and be alert for a spot to stand. And have a man ride like hell for Grastor. As you say, kill the horse if that’s what it takes. Hell . . . give him the two best horses, and someone will ride double. Maybe he’ll find a farm or a ranch on the way to get fresher horses—if he has time to swap. If we hold them for even a little while, it’ll give the horses a break, and we could gallop again until they dropped. Then, maybe help from Grastor can reach us before the Kolinkans do.”

  Synton spurred forward, and Maera moved her mare back alongside Yozef.

  “It’s still not good, is it?”

  “We’ll have to make a stand somewhere not too much farther on.”

  “Do we have a chance?”

  He would never lie to her. She was strong, even if afraid, and he owed her only the truth in most things. The exception being his origin.

  “I don’t know.”

  CHAPTER 37

  STAND

  The site where they would make their stand came sooner than Yozef expected. Five minutes later, they entered another narrow passage. It wound a hundred yards before widening into an area fifty yards across and several hundred yards long. At the end were more rock formations. From what they could see, though, the land beyond did not appear to constrict again. One- to two-foot-diameter rocks lay scattered on the open area. They must have rolled down from steep slopes.

  Synton yelled something at the Seaborn officer. The forward dragoons urged their horses to a run, and Synton came over to Yozef.

  “This will be it. Reezo do
esn’t think there’s a better spot before open country. We’ll set up at the other end of this space. We’ll be able to concentrate our fire as they emerge. Those of them who aren’t shot will have to find cover behind the rocks. I don’t care how many men they have. There’s only so much cover available—maybe only enough for twenty or so men.”

  “But we’ve stopped, too,” said Yozef. “What if we run out of ammunition?”

  “Let’s worry about that when it happens and concentrate on staying alive for the next half hour. They lost men when we delayed them, then some more while getting past the Pewitt men.”

  Yozef knew Synton was right. His reservation had been a reflex. The main unknown was exactly how many Kolinkans were chasing them. Once they entered the rougher terrain, the view was too limited to see more than a few dozen Kolinkans at a time. If only fifty men were coming, the Kolinkans would be stymied. If there were four hundred, and their leader was willing to take whatever casualties were necessary, the defenders would eventually either be overwhelmed or run out of ammunition.

  “All right, do it.”

  Maera had ridden on while Yozef stopped to talk with Synton. He caught up with her.

  “We’re making the stand here. It’s as good a spot as we’re going to find.”

  The next five minutes would have initially seemed chaotic to an overhead observer. Riders urged their horses another hundred yards to where the Seaborn Clan flag was being waved from a rock formation. Riders had to weave around free boulders and rock outcroppings to where Seaborn men were roping off a makeshift corral. Other men tied rope hitch lines between the trunks of two of the sparse trees. As riders arrived, their horses were tied to the lines and their front legs hobbled with slip-knotted rope sections. The situation was too desperate to follow the dragoon protocol of one man in four caring for horses. Every rifle was needed.

  “I’d say I wish you’d stay here,” said Yozef when helping Maera dismount, “if I thought you would.”

  “And you’re right not to propose it. The Paramount’s wife doesn’t hide when the Paramount is fighting with his men . . . which is where you’ll be. Pregnant or not, every pair of hands is needed. If a rifle comes free from a casualty, I know how to shoot. Even if my aim isn’t as good as most of you men, any contribution is important. Plus, casualties need caring for. I can do that. I can even reload.”

  Yozef sighed. She was right.

  “Well, then, stay near me. I heard Synton and Carnigan talking. They plan on putting the Paramount flag where I’m firing from. If the Kolinkans’ goal is to capture me, they may refrain from firing near the flag. If you’re going to be out there, I can’t stop you, but I will insist you stay near the flag.”

  She put a hand on his arm. “And you feel guilty about taking advantage, don’t you? I know you too well, but you’re rational enough to know they’re right. Your being killed would be a catastrophe for Caedellium. If you’re captured, it might even be worse. I’m sure you’ve thought about these things, but what if the Kolinkans are working for the Narthani? That, or they could sell and trade you to the Narthani, who would force you to work for them, especially if I were captured, too.”

  She was right. He had thought through various scenarios, including one he cursed himself for thinking of. It was too rational. Too cold. If they were both captured, and Maera was used to force him to work for the Kolinkans or the Narthani, the consequences would be worse for Caedellium than if he was either killed or captured with Maera dead. He didn’t trust himself not to give in to save her from whatever the captors might threaten.

  There was nothing more to say. They grabbed everything useful from their mounts and ran to where the dragoons were setting up firing positions. The Kolinkans would arrive at any moment. All the men had positions picked out, but activity was still frenetic. Men carrying the few hatchets hacked lower branches off trees to pile them in open spaces between the firing positions. Other men did the same with rocks and smaller boulders they could roll into position, trying to form rock walls. They didn’t get far.

  Carnigan had a spot picked out for them, surrounded by the four Kolsko guards. Yozef laid down his rifle and looked for where he might help with building the rock berm.

  Crack! A single rifle shot was followed by three others. He looked up to see a Kolinkan rider at the opening in the narrow passageway. The man was slumped in the saddle but still managed to back his horse out of sight and around the immediate curve.

  Toowin Kales cursed. “We have to shoot better than that, or we’re in real trouble.”

  “Our man was probably just as surprised when the Kolinkan appeared,” said Maera.

  Kales spit to one side. “Doesn’t make any difference.”

  Men busy with preparations stopped and rushed to their positions. Within seconds of the first shot, rifles and one destrex cannon were aimed at the eight-foot-wide opening.

  “Their leader will have to try a rush,” said Synton. “How many men he sends will tell us how many he has.”

  Yozef grimaced and nodded. “You mean he’s going to decide how many men to sacrifice. If he’s worried about being short of men, he won’t send that many. In a worst case, he’ll have so many men he figures he can send the lot of them and still have plenty more, no matter what happens.”

  Seconds passed. A minute. Three minutes. Yozef licked his lips and looked around for the third or fourth time. He still didn’t see any way the Kolinkans could get around them. They would have to come straight in. He envisioned horses packing the passageway, rifles firing, horses screaming and falling, riders hit by fire or going down with their mounts, a pile of mainly horseflesh blocking the opening. It was a grisly vision he hoped would come to pass.

  The Kolinkans did something else. Three balls of fire flew high in the air. All defender eyes followed the balls. This caused a one- or two-second delay in their response when men on foot erupted from the passageway opening.

  By the time the first rifle fired, twenty or so Kolinkans were fanning out to both sides from the opening.

  The salvo of rifle fire cut down half of the Kolinkans—that few because many ran at angles looking for cover, instead of straight at the defenders. Yozef heard Carnigan curse, which was not habitual for the big man.

  Every man frantically reloaded. Yozef added a curse. If they’d had even a few breech-loading rifles, their position would be unassailable as long as they had ammunition.

  Most men had stood at firing positions behind rocks. Most, but not all. A few Kolinkan muskets fired, but at that distance and with so few muskets, their odds of hitting a Caedelli were poor.

  Yozef repeated to himself the loading and firing instructions for the new model rifle: Bring the rifle from horizontal firing position to vertical, stock on the ground. Pull a cartridge from a pouch. Bite off the paper end and pour gunpowder down the barrel. Put the minie ball in the barrel with the cartridge paper on top as a patch. Pull the ramrod from its slots beneath the barrel. Force the ball and the patch down the barrel. Return the ramrod. Bring the rifle to firing position. Half-cock the hammer. Put a percussion cap on the cone of the breech leading to the powder in the barrel. Bring the hammer to full cock. Ready to fire.

  Yozef was annoyed when second rounds were fired before he finished reloading. His annoyance faded when dragoon leaders screamed at men for firing without having good targets. The surviving Kolinkans were now huddled behind any available cover. Yozef caught glimpses of them reloading, but most of them could not stand without being exposed. They were doing the more difficult reloading while lying or kneeling. He thought he could see an occasional arm manipulating ramrods, but the enemy’s exposure was too fleeting for Yozef to attempt any shots.

  Several attackers lying on the open ground were alive, wounded to various extents. Yozef saw one crawling for cover. A rifle fired, and the Kolinkan twitched and didn’t move again. Another man, apparently more seriously wounded, rose on an elbow and raised the other arm toward the Caedelli—in supplication, Yozef be
lieved. Two more shots, and the man’s body slammed to the ground.

  Part of Yozef, the old part who lived in Berkeley, who was a chemistry student, who had a pregnant girlfriend, and who considered himself moderately liberal politically, was aghast at shooting wounded men. The current Yozef only noted the difference in attitude and took solace it wasn’t he who had made the decision to fire.

  Toowin muttered, “Now what? That didn’t work out for them.”

  “It did if they have enough men,” answered Synton from Yozef’s other side. “In that case, their leader probably sent these men to see where we were and gauge our firepower. Now he knows. Listen to them shouting back and forth. He’ll know . . . what . . . at least ten of them made it to cover.”

  Minutes passed with no action. Yozef had sporadic glimpses of Kolinkans, if that was who they were, moving into the jumbled rocks and boulders on both sides of the passageway.

  “Getting men into position for suppressing fire,” said Synton. “Hardly worth the effort with muskets at this range.”

  “Hell,” said Yozef. “Even so, fire enough times, and they’re bound to accidently hit something occasionally.”

  Dragoons who had readied their reloaded rifles to fire couldn’t hold the position for long and rested the barrels on top of the rock cover. Yozef felt beads of sweat trickle down his forehead. He used a sleeve to wipe them away. Once. Twice.

  Dragoons yelled as a second knot of Kolinkans ran from the passageway. Most dragoons’ rifles were not in instant firing position, delaying the salvo. What compensated for that was that now the defenders had a sense of the distance and expected the dispersal pattern. About the same percentage of attackers went down, not that any defender noticed. The instant the last rifle fired, Kolinkan horsemen came galloping from the passage, whipping their horses and yelling. Synton’s eruption of curses was heard even over yells of surprise and warnings to the other defenders, all of whom frantically reloaded.

  A dragoon to Yozef’s left was the first to reload. He fired at the lead rider, who was flung off his horse thirty yards from the most forward defender. Other shots followed. For seconds, there was no thought to evaluate what was happening . . . not until the rifle fire stopped. Downed men and horses dotted the ground back to the passage. Many were motionless. Many moved. Many screamed or moaned.