Firehand

by Andre Norton

  than the Confederate leaders anticipated. His allies would have to be

  apprised of their actual strength, and he pressed his party to discover the

  full extent of it.

  The Sapphirehold unit worked its way down the length of the Funnel

  almost to the mouth of the Corridor itself before Murdock at last learned

  all he could of what he wished to know and gave the order to turn for

  home.

  That was a command all of them rejoiced to hear. Although the

  countryside still provided some cover, it was becoming ever more like that

  of the Corridor, ever less able to shield them against the eyes of their

  enemies should any be present to trouble them.

  All of them hoped their luck would hold in that respect and no patrols

  would come upon them. With important information in their possession,

  it would not be well to enter into any conflict now.

  Ross kept his unit moving at a fast pace during the remainder of that

  day. He always hated missions calling himself or any of his soldiers into

  this place where they were denied ready access to the mountains and was

  never sorry to come out of it. Now, the responsibility of the intelligence he

  carried weighed on him along with the ever-present fear of being trapped

  here.

  The Sapphireholders rode steadily until nightfall. They broke their

  journey once full dark fell and resumed it again with dawn's first pale

  light.

  They had been riding for some four hours when the partisans spotted a

  flicker of movement well to the north.

  They took cover, vanishing as if they had never been, and waited.

  Fifteen minutes passed before the stillness of the scene was disrupted

  again. This time, there was no doubt. Deermen. They were heading south,

  riding swiftly without taxing their mounts. The party was small, only six

  men, and nervous. For all their apparent haste, they were making good use

  of the cover provided by the broken terrain.

  The commander watched them for several minutes as they twisted and

  swerved in their course so as to keep themselves under the best protection

  available to them.

  They were veterans of this war then. Mercenaries fairly recently come

  into Condor Hall's service did not move this well. Chance alone had

  revealed them, and were they only a few miles farther north where they

  would have enjoyed better cover, they should have escaped detection

  entirely.

  Ross signaled to Allran and three others. "Check them out."

  That small party made a tempting target, maybe too tempting. Such

  had been set to trap him before, albeit never this far south. He would not

  care to sweep down on them only to find himself surprised by a second,

  larger force that had been traveling better concealed as a shadow to this

  first.

  The four scouts were gone some time before returning at last with the

  news that the invaders were indeed alone.

  The Terran pondered a moment. His first inclination was to let them

  go, but Zanthor frequently sent couriers in such small, highly mobile

  companies, and he could not chance that these carried no directive of

  interest to him or to his allies.

  "Allran, Gordon, take half our number and get behind them. Eveleeni

  and I'll go with the rest. We should be able to sweep around them if we

  move swiftly enough."

  The partisans flowed like the waters of a gentle tide through the broken

  countryside until they reached the place where their enemies rode.

  Ross counted the seconds until he was certain his people were all in

  place, then gave the command to advance.

  The sight of the Sapphireholders appearing seemingly out of the very

  ground with arms drawn and ready to slay was sufficient to cow their

  outnumbered foes, and the Condor Hall mercenaries surrendered without

  attempting to draw blade.

  The war captain ordered them to cast their weapons aside and then to

  dismount. They complied at once. The partisans left their saddles as well,

  and Murdock turned to question the Sergeant who appeared to be the

  leader of the captives.

  A curse, sharp and bitter!

  His head snapped about as Allran went for one of the prisoners, sword

  in hand and poised to strike.

  Ross threw himself forward, slamming into his Lieutenant and bearing

  him to the ground.

  There was no struggle. Ashe and one of the others separated the two

  men and disarmed Allran while their comrades closed in around the

  captives lest they think to take advantage of the confusion of the moment

  and break for their freedom.

  The Time Agent was on his feet again. His fury was open and unbridled

  as he faced the Dominionite officer so that even their companions

  trembled in their hearts to see it. "How dare you?" he whispered slowly,

  carefully articulating each word. "How dare you draw against a man who's

  surrendered to us?"

  "That one cut my sire down!"

  Murdock forced a rein on his anger. "Your father was a soldier by

  profession, the commander of Sapphirehold's garrison, and he met his

  death in open war."

  Allran's face flushed with rage. "You mercenaries like to imagine you

  can civilize war! You cannot, nor have you claim to any cloak of

  righteousness! We domain people may hire you once in the generation or

  in several generations when war-need shadows our normally peaceful

  lifeway, but you yourselves are vampires, ghouls, ever feeding on

  fresh-spurting blood and dead men's flesh…"

  Eveleen struck him hard across the mouth. "Shut up, you fool!"

  The man stiffened but then bowed his head. "Your pardon, Captain. I

  was grossly insubordinate and accept as merited whatever penalty you lay

  on me."

  "Your anger was better released in shooting off your mouth than in

  some manner deadly to our honor or our lives. Cool down and then resume

  your duties."

  Ross turned on his heel and walked back toward the Sergeant he had

  been about to interrogate.

  All the captives were staring at him in dazed awe. This man was a

  legend to them, and they felt in this moment that he was more than any

  tale or dread could make him. The speed of his response, the strength of

  his will, his defense of what he held to be justice might momentarily stun

  them, but all this was only to be expected n the face of what they knew

  about him. The control he had shown was something different. They had

  not met with its like before, though these were no recruits having had but

  little experience with either domain or mercenary officers. They feared

  him because of it, but they admired him also and held nothing back of

  their recent history when he put his questions, first to their leader, then to

  the remainder of them. They had no information that would render such

  openness a violation of their oaths or a danger to comrades still active in

  the war.

  Murdock came away from the interview disappointed. The Condor Hall

  men had no news of real interest to him, nor were they couriers, but only

  the survivors of a larger unit that had been attacked and overcome by

  partisans farther north.
These six had escaped, and since they had already

  crossed more than half the distance to the front, they had decided that

  attempting to reach their lines was their wisest course. They had

  continued southward, hoping that caution and the small size of their party

  would shield them from further trouble. A careful search had confirmed

  that they carried no papers or other material useful to the Confederate

  leaders.

  He regretted the delay taking them had cost him. Six warriors, none of

  them bearing any great rank, made a poor prize. However, they could

  hardly be released at this point, and Gurnion's people would probably

  want to examine them more closely in case one or more of them should be

  carrying secret verbal orders, although that was extremely unlikely. He

  would not have entrusted any of these with such an errand and did not

  imagine Zanthor I Yoroc was a poorer judge of men than himself.

  Ross was growing uncomfortable about lingering so long and ordered

  his unit to mount. The prisoners were bound to their springdeer, arms

  fastened to their sides, and then blindfolded. Soon now, the wild foothills

  guarding the mountains would be open to them, and they would begin

  moving south along paths no one not part of Firehand's small army was

  permitted to see.

  They rode hard for some two hours, then halted.

  Murdock ordered all eight of his warriors to go with the prisoners,

  keeping only his three leaders beside him. He and those remaining with

  him would be at a serious disadvantage if they met with any more of their

  enemies, but they were near their highlands and were well able to keep

  themselves concealed until they did reach safety.

  The eight soldiers were in less than an excellent situation themselves.

  They had a goodly distance to go before reaching the Confederate camp,

  and it would be no delight traveling it in company with prisoners nearly

  equal in number with themselves.

  The Terran would not keep his party intact despite all his awareness of

  the difficulties separation would and could bring to both units. Luroc, too,

  must have report of what they had learned in the Funnel. Besides,

  Murdock never trusted in only one courier or one party to carry news of

  any importance to their allies. Once he reached his base, more riders

  would be sent to the Confederate Ton either to confirm the details of his

  message or to deliver it if these first emissaries had failed to reach him.

  22

  THE COMMANDER AND his three companions kept moving steadily

  all that day, trying to regain some of the time they had lost. They were

  silent for the most part, each busy with his own thoughts, and little was

  said even when they finally made camp for the night.

  Eveleen held the second watch, that following her husband's. She was in

  no good humor and was glad none of the others was present to see the

  frown marring her features.

  She was furious with Allran. Her fellow Lieutenant was a professional

  soldier and had honestly acknowledged his fault in addressing his superior

  as he had, but none of the anger against Murdock which had fired his

  outburst had faded. He reined it tightly now, but she knew him well

  enough after their months of service together to be aware of it, and she

  was certain Ross sensed it as well.

  Her expression darkened still further. This was not the first time she

  had observed discontent or anger on him, either. What was the matter

  with the man? Ross did not need this with everything else he had to bear

  besides.

  When she was finally relieved, the woman went to where Murdock was

  lying. Each of the partisans slept apart from his companions, visually

  separated from them so that some, at least, might escape if their camp

  were discovered and overrun. She was glad of that now, for it would give

  them the opportunity for private conversation if her chief were still awake.

  Eveleen found Ross lying on his back, his arms pillowing his head. He

  appeared to be staring into the branches forming the dark roof above him

  but sat up as soon as she approached.

  The Lieutenant gave the signal that all was well and seated herself

  beside him. "My watch is over," she chided gently. "You should've been

  asleep ages ago."

  "I wanted to do some thinking." He smiled. "You wouldn't have come to

  me if you didn't expect to find me awake."

  "I was afraid you would be," the weapons expert admitted.

  "You've got to be played out, too. What's your excuse for staying up?"

  Her head lowered and raised again. "The same as yours. I was thinking

  about what happened today, what Allran said to you."

  "He was mad, and he knew I was right."

  "Angry words can still wound. He used some pretty strong terms." Her

  eyes caught his. "Ross, no one, including Allran A Aldar, thinks of you like

  that."

  "Not these people, no. Not now," he said dully, "but all Dominion will

  soon. You said they shifted into pacifism pretty early. People in our

  supposed profession wouldn't stay popular in that atmosphere." His eyes

  fixed on his hands. "I was a misfit in our own time until the Project found

  me, and I was a misfit in Hawaika's past. Now it's happening again…"

  "Hardly," she informed him. "The conversion did not happen overnight.

  Besides, the locals didn't become idiots because they turned away from

  warfare on a yearly basis. They fought the Baldies, remember, and they

  did a proper job on them. Their history didn't condemn that stand, or try

  to drop it into the back of some file and forget it."

  A slow smile just touched his lips before fading again. "I suppose I am

  getting myself worked up over nothing."

  His expression darkened again. "I'd have to be stone blind not to see

  that Allran resents me, though. If he weren't such a professional, there

  would be serious friction between us even now."

  His companion nodded. "It's gotten worse recently. I can't understand

  what's the matter with him."

  "I imagine it's a problem mercenary commanders must occasionally

  encounter on long-term commissions," Ross said thoughtfully. "Most of

  these domain leaders are sound warriors and good officers, but their skills

  are usually confined to training and parading their troops, relieved,

  perhaps, by bandit control now and then in wilder areas or, in extremely

  rare instances, by a show of force against some troublesome neighbor.

  "When real danger develops, mercenary companies are almost

  inevitably hired, always with the stipulation that their own officers will

  have precedence in all war-related activities, save only with respect to the

  Ton himself."

  He sighed. "It's only natural, I suppose, that some of the local men

  should resent being thus superseded, particularly where rank and birth

  are interconnected. Such officers simply don't want to yield place to hired

  swords. I can't say that I blame them."

  Ross looked into the distance. "Allran's fathers have commanded

  Sapphirehold's garrison for five generations. How pleased can I expect

  him to be to see a mercenary raised over him? Luroc's naming me his son
r />   can't have helped, either. It's got to have raised the nasty suspicion that I

  might stay here and make the current situation permanent. That would be

  a disaster as far as he was concerned."

  The Terran man fell silent a moment, then recalled himself again. "I'll

  have to do what I can to make peace between us."

  "You're not the one at fault!"

  "All the same, it's my business to banish this tension before it grows

  still worse, which it's bound to do if I try to ignore it. We can't afford

  quarreling in our ranks. That would serve Zanthor so well that it might

  significantly delay his defeat."

  "What more can you do?" Eveleen asked him. "Another man would've

  decked Allran or worse for what he said to you today."

  "I wasn't far from it," her husband confessed.

  He shrugged. "All I can do is talk to him. I don't want the place he

  desires. I should be able to convince him that mercenaries don't stick

  around once their work's done and life goes back to normal again."

  "Will he believe that?"

  "He should if I don't hold off so long before speaking to him that his

  feelings grow permanently irrational. That would be an enormous

  disservice to an extremely fine officer, and I've delayed nearly too long

  already."

  Ross smiled at her. "That must wait until we're back in base. For now,

  Lieutenant, I suggest that we both get some sleep. As it is, we won't be

  happy when it's time to hit the saddle again."

  23

  THE FOLLOWING DAY dawned pleasantly enough, but the weather

  turned early in the morning, and soon a sharp, damp wind snapped at

  them.

  Rain joined with it just before noon, a nasty, steady drizzle that kept all

  four morosely hunched in their cloaks. They were tired in spirit and body

  after their long mission, they were cold, and even the fact that they were

  well into the mountains and should reach their base the next day did little

  to cheer them. None of them felt inclined for speech, although the need for

  caution was long since past.

  All knew camp would be a most unpleasant affair that night, and

  Murdock weighed continuing on until they reached home.

  In the end he decided to break their journey. There was still a goodly

  distance to go, and he disliked pressing a needless forced march on his

  companions. He tried never to overtax any of his soldiers without strong