Firehand

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Firehand Page 10

by Andre Norton


  streaming in through the slats of the shutters covering the single unglazed

  window.

  He arose and opened the shutters. The morning was beautiful, the sky

  was a vibrant blue, the air brisk and clear.

  Ashe must have been watching for this sign, for he came to the cabin a

  few minutes later carrying with him both food and water for washing.

  Murdock was not long in readying himself. He sat down to eat at the

  all-purpose desk table while his partner gave him an account of affairs in

  the camp, a surprisingly detailed one considering the fact that he, too, had

  only returned to it the previous afternoon. He had put the time Ross had

  spent with the Ton to good use.

  The other man eyed his rapidly emptied plate with satisfaction, then

  turned his attention to Ross himself. "I'm glad to find you looking

  somewhat less like a casualty this morning."

  "I feel less like one." He looked a bit sheepish. "I'm afraid I tried to snap

  the head off you last night."

  Gordon smilea. "There aren't many people at whom a commander in a

  situation like ours can afford to snarl. He also can't afford to take on the

  man-of-iron pose. That goes down poorly with mere mortals."

  Ross nodded ruefully. "I've been getting good practice walking the

  middle line on this job." Personally, he had long since come to the

  conclusion that being the junior partner in such a venture had its

  advantages.

  His eyes darkened. "I worry sometimes, Gordon. You should be the one

  in charge. I'm fine in the field, but when it comes to planning the war,

  even just Sapphirehold's part in it, and planning what has to come

  afterward so these people can rebuild…"

  "You're doing fine," the archeologist responded quietly. "As a learned

  scholar and one by now intimately involved in the domain's affairs, I

  probably will be drawn into some of the reconstruction discussions, but I

  can't see that I'll have to do more than back up your decisions and I

  Loran's. Sapphirehold's present and future affairs are in very competent

  hands."

  Murdock smiled his thanks. "I hope you're right, my friend. It seems a

  lot to be hanging on the judgment of a former minor hood."

  He shrugged then. "Is Eveleen up yet?"

  "Yes, hard as it is to roust her out of her bed the day after a raid. I saw

  her just as I was bringing breakfast to you."

  "I'd best go find her," Ross said more to himself than to the other.

  "We've got a lot to discuss."

  "She should still be eating. There's no panic orr for once."

  Ross stood in the doorway until he spotted Eveleen sitting by herself on

  a grassy knoll near the first line of trees. The weapons expert liked to take

  her breakfast outside whenever the weather permitted, especially when

  things were quiet and no urgent duty pressed her.

  He walked over to her, moving with a brisk, determined step that belied

  the general air of peace resting on the camp.

  Murdock noted that her hair was up once more, but it was softly styled,

  like the Dominionite women used to wear theirs before war had driven

  them from their homes. Doubtless, she had her net near to hand, ready to

  snap into place should danger threaten or a sudden order to ride be given.

  All Sapphirehold's female warriors had adopted the finely woven metal

  mesh caps that were part of every woman fighter's gear to secure their

  hair lest it should loosen and serve some enemy as a handhold in battle.

  She had changed from a linen to a wool shirt in deference to the

  autumn chill. The garment was an old one and pulled somewhat where it

  was fastened over her breasts. Its color was the green commonly used by

  the partisans because of its camouflage value.

  Eveleen liked green anyway, he thought irrelevantly. She had been

  wearing very nearly this same shade when he had first seen her that day

  three years ago she had sat her future students on their rears on the pistol

  range.

  He was close to her now, and his pace quickened. She seemed

  withdrawn and pensive beyond her usual wont, so much so that she did

  not become aware of his approach until he softly spoke her name.

  Riordan looked up quickly, in surprise. She recovered herself as swiftly,

  and, smiling, motioned for him to join her.

  He settled himself near her. "You're gloomy this morning," he observed.

  She nodded. They had proven sensitive to one another's moods almost

  from the time they had begun the active phase of their mission, perhaps

  because they had to work so closely together, all the while preserving the

  secret of their origins. He had caught her properly, and it was rather too

  late to cover herself now. "The Ton-heir fought off a wardwolf threatening

  the does the night before last."

  He looked at her in surprise. "That's no mean feat for a boy barely nine

  years old."

  Her great eyes sought his. "Ross, Conroc's a child, a child who's not

  permitted to be young. I don't mind so much for us or for most of our

  comrades, either, but I hate the thought of those babies having to become

  men and women before they ever have a chance to know what it's like to

  be children at all… I sound like a total idiot, I suppose?"

  "No. I didn't have such a hot time as a kid myself and know…" Ross

  frowned and fell silent a moment before going on. "They deserve a better

  break. At least, we can start hoping they might get it fairly soon."

  The man waited until his companion had finished eating before

  broaching the subject of their war in earnest. When she set her plate

  down, however, he straightened in the manner she recognized to mean

  that he would speak to her as commander to his chief officer. "Did you

  give any further thought last night to what we'd been discussing?"

  "No," she admitted contritely. "A bed's like an opiate after several

  nights on the ground, and I jumped into mine almost immediately. I did

  mull it over a little this morning, though."

  "That's more than I can claim," he confessed. "With what result?"

  "Nothing significant. There are no real problems that I can see, just the

  detail of scheduling. We might as well put it all to the others and let them

  help with that."

  He laughed softly. "An excellent suggestion, Lieutenant. I've no great

  desire to take it entirely on myself, either."

  The council was quickly convened and included both the higher officers

  and their lesser aides, all those who commanded raids, even the smallest

  forays.

  The latter people were most important now. It was their commander's

  intention to keep a number of teams within the lowlands at all times,

  small groups that would be able to conceal their presence even under

  greatly increased patrol activity and yet be large enough both to maintain

  contact with potential targets and to release couriers at regular intervals

  to keep their officers apprised of their position and other pertinent

  developments.

  In order to meet the challenge of these reports, at least one of the five

  units into which the partisans had long been divided would have to be

  ready to ride at an instant's notice, and each
of the others was to be

  prepared to move with little more warning, leaving a sufficient force

  behind to serve as a home guard and to form a large strike force with any

  of the others should a situation warrant massed effort.

  Many of those present groaned aloud when they heard those orders.

  The volume of work evolving on each of the Sapphireholders and

  particularly on these, their leaders, would be greatly increased even if

  there were little or no comparable growth in enemy activity in the

  lowlands. That was not likely. All of them shared Murdock's belief that

  Zanthor would have to act more aggressively if his hopes were to survive

  the coming winter by very many weeks.

  Their hearts were light despite that and despite the additional danger

  they knew they would have to face. Ross had succeeded in communicating

  his certainty that victory in the foreseeable future was just about

  inevitable. Hope in the return to the long-neglected working of their

  domain fired their hearts like good wine. They were prepared to face

  whatever must be endured to secure that infinitely desired goal.

  12

  THE WEEKS THAT followed proved even more demanding on the

  partisans than they had imagined when they had embarked on their

  commander's intensified campaign, but they were also many times more

  rewarding.

  Murdock had not misread the course his enemy would take, had to

  take. The Ton of Condor Hall strove desperately to strengthen his

  hard-pressed army against the ever-more-virulent assaults of the

  Confederates and against the steadily approaching winter. He used every

  tactic available to him. Large convoys; small, rapidly moving units;

  crushingly heavy guards; independent, frequent patrols; decoys; and,

  above all, frequency of shipment—all played their part in his massive

  effort.

  Some, much, did get through. An astonishing amount did not. The

  invaders assuredly would not be weaponless before their foes or reduced to

  fighting as infantry, nor would they freeze or starve in the snows, but both

  men and springdeer should be well chilled and very lean by the time

  spring came to relieve them, enough so to reduce their energy and

  capacity for battle and to leave them with but scant love for the man who

  had hired their swords and had then failed to provide adequately for their

  needs.

  So the Time Agent was thinking to his satisfaction when a courier tore

  into the camp.

  He and his officers were beside her even before she slid from her

  steaming wardeer. "What news?" he demanded.

  "Columns, Captain, two of them. The first is a deer herd, maybe two

  hundred head, and is probably meant to draw us. It is moving carefully

  and swiftly but lowers its caution every now and then, as if it wants to be

  seen. Also, it is rather lightly guarded. There are no more than thirty

  riders with it in all, including the herdsmen."

  "The second?"

  " A convoy. Twenty-five wagons. Two hundred guards plus drivers. This

  one travels very secretly indeed for all its size, and it is only by chance that

  we discovered it."

  "Their locations?"

  The woman bent to study the map of Sapphirehold's lowlands which

  Ashe had brought out upon her arrival and which he now spread on the

  ground before them. "In the same general quarter, but they are well

  apart."

  She pointed to an area of softly rolling hills, the gentlest part of the

  embattled domain and once Luroc's prize pasture land. "The herd is

  coming through here. It is making very good time, and if we want to strike

  it, we shall have to do so quickly."

  "Naturally it is making good time," Allran growled, a scowl marring his

  features. "That was always perfect country for spring-deer."

  "A trap?" Murdock asked. "You say they appear to be trying to lure us."

  "Away from the convoy, I believe. The terrain is too open for a second

  party to be riding secretly near enough to it to provide aid in the event of

  one of our sudden assaults. We have scouted all the area around it and

  have found nothing."

  "They could be depending on speed to get them through should they

  escape trouble in their role as decoys," Eveleen interjected. "A herd like

  that, unencumbered by baggage or wagons, can move very rapidly."

  "That's probably precisely their intent and hope," Murdock agreed.

  He turned once more to the scout. "The convoy?"

  "Here." She indicated a location within, as she had said, the same

  sector of the domain but which might have been on a different continent

  for all the similarity the two regions bore. The route it followed was

  through a broad range of heavily wooded hills so steeply pitched and

  rugged as to be almost miniature mountains.

  Ross's brows came together. "That's not easy ground for wagons to

  negotiate."

  "No, but neither would they logically be expected to attempt it, and the

  trees do help muffle the sounds of their passing. Then, too, their escort is a

  large one and appears to be giving a good part of its effort to aiding the

  train's progress."

  "Outriders?"

  "We have not seen any, but I can give no assurance that there are none.

  The countryside offers too good concealment, and I was sent to you very

  soon after our discovery of it. The others may have found something since

  my leaving them."

  The partisan commander studied the map intently for several minutes.

  He raised his head. "Eveleeni, Allran, summon your divisions. Gordon,

  order mine to saddle up. We ride in force."

  "After which one?" the Dominionite officer asked curiously.

  "Both."

  Ross smiled at their expressions. "If we start now and travel fast,

  breaking our journey only long enough to keep ourselves and our mounts

  fit to fight, we should meet with the herd here by dawn tomorrow."

  He touched the map with the point of his sword. "That will put it about

  parallel to the convoy's route and as close to it as we can expect them to

  come if they both hold to their projected courses.

  "We'll sweep down on the deer from these two points, completely

  encircling the herd and its guardians before we actually force battle.

  "Our greatest danger is that they may be able to break through with a

  stampede charge, but by closing the net quickly and moving into range at

  once, we should be able to depend on surprise and on our own numbers to

  give us possession of the animals without too much difficulty."

  "The guarding and delivery of so many springdeer will drain us rather

  heavily," Eveleen noted. "Will we have sufficient warriors left to go after

  the convoy?"

  He glanced at her. "Good point. You got me on that one. We'll bring

  enough riders from Korvin's division to fill that need."

  Murdock turned back to the map. "After they're safely off, we move

  east. Four hours' hard riding should bring us to this place. It's right on our

  second target's present line of march but well in front of them. Once there,

  we should have time enough to catch our breaths before we confront

  them."

  He looked up. "I ca
n't be certain of all of this, and we'll have to see the

  lay of the place and the train itself before we finalize our plans against

  that. Maybe we'll only be able to take part of the convoy or maybe we'll

  miss it entirely, but only time and closer contact will tell us that. For now,

  Comrades, let's ride!"

  13

  THE SUN HAD just lifted over the peaks of the ever-present mountains

  when the Sapphirehold force reached the site where their commander had

  chosen to await their enemies' appearance.

  They were weary after their long ride, but warriors and mounts alike

  were well used to the demands of the life they led; their ability in the

  coming battle, the coming battles, would not be lessened by so little.

  Ross had so positioned his troops that neither those with him nor with

  Eveleen on the slope opposite them had to contend directly with the sun's

  bright glare as they watched the northeast for sign of their target.

  Minutes passed. Perhaps the herd had gone by already or had altered

  its course and would avoid this place altogether.

  The partisans stiffened. There it was, cresting the tall rise capping the

  valley to the north and spilling down its gentler southern slope.

  Gordon looked once upon his partner. Even after some of the other

  coups they had pulled off since taking to this life, he still felt something

  akin to awe in this moment. Murdock's calculations had not varied from

  the reality of their foes' arrival by more than three minutes. "Sometimes, I

  think you're more Hawaikan Foanna than Terran Time Agent," he said

  softly.

  The other's eyes danced. That was high praise coming from Ashe, who

  had not viewed the strange trio's extrasensory abilities with the same

  suspicion and discomfort as had his younger partner. "I'll thank you not to

  call those ladies down on us, my Friend. The thought of them spooks me

  worse than Zanthor I Yoroc and all his mercenaries."

  His words, light in tone as they were, had been spoken in a voice

  pitched scarcely above a whisper, and he said no more after that.

  All speech faded, and the partisan ranks fell into total silence. The

  invaders were still too distant for even normal conversation to betray the

  ambush had they been traveling quite soundlessly themselves, which they

  patently were not. The noise generated by their own movements would be

  sufficient to deaden the invaders' senses to considerable carelessness on

 

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