Treasured One

by David Eddings

  “Don’t forget your pack, Gunda,” Andar reminded him.

  “I am going to be in a bit of a hurry,” Gunda protested.

  “It’s one of the obligations of higher-ranking officers to set examples for the ordinary soldiers,” Andar said.

  “You had to go and say that, didn’t you?”

  “That’s one of my obligations, Gunda,” Andar replied with a broad grin. “I’m obliged to remind you of all the things you’re obliged to do. It’s a heavy burden, but I think I’m strong enough to carry it. Take the pack, Gunda. Don’t argue with me.”

  “What’s in this pack that’s supposed to fill our commander with delight?”

  “Beans, isn’t it, Danal?” Andar asked.

  Danal nodded.

  “Beans?” Gunda demanded. “You’re beating me over the head with a sack of beans?”

  “Would you prefer rocks?”

  The basin at the top of the narrow pass appeared to be pri- marily a meadow dotted here and there with clumps of trees. About the only unusual feature of that basin was the source of the River Vash. Gunda had heard about geysers before, but this was the first time he’d actually seen one. His mind shuddered away from the thought of the sort of underground pressure that could send water spurting a hundred or so feet into the air in such volume that it was the primary source of a river that was quite nearly a mile wide at the mouth.

  There was an old sergeant lounging in the shade of a tree near the top of the pass, and he stood up and saluted when Gunda came out of the steep pass. “The commander’s men have set up camp at the north end of the basin, sir,” he supplied, pointing toward a broken-down ridge line. “From what I’ve heard, he’s been waiting for you and the rest of the army.”

  “Has the enemy made any attacks, yet?” Gunda asked.

  “None that I’ve heard about, sir.”

  “Well, that’s something, I guess.” Gunda hitched up his pack and went on up to the north end of the basin to Narasan’s camp.

  The north ridge appeared to have been shattered by some sort of natural disaster, and the ruins looked almost like the walls of a city that had been battered by catapults for a year or more. It was most probably the peculiar rocks of the region that caused Gunda to compare a natural formation to a man-made one. The peaks which had formed the ridge were almost universally black, and when they’d shattered, they’d broken off into innumerable rocks with flat surfaces. Gunda even saw a sizeable number of black rocks littering the red-colored slope that led down toward a very large depression—also red—that extended out from the foot of the slope. Gunda was vaguely aware of the fact that red-colored rocks—or sand—were somehow related to iron. That was just a bit baffling. If there was so much iron ore in this region, why did the natives make all their tools and weapons out of stone?

  He shrugged and went on into the army camp just to the south of the shattered ridge line.

  “You made good time, Gunda,” Narasan observed when Gunda reported in. “We were more than a little worried that you might have encountered that Church fleet on the south coast.”

  “I think we might have got lucky,” Gunda replied. “When I got back to Castano, the Church had commandeered every wharf in the harbor. They sailed north, and I went on up to the channel to make sure that we were right about where they were going. We were, of course. Then I went on back to Castano, and Andar had been breaking rules for all he was worth—little things, like no separate quarters for officers, no roof over everybody’s head, and a few others he didn’t mention to me. He managed to get the entire army on board the ships we had, but several of them were low enough in the water that even a mild storm would have shoved them under.”

  Narasan winced.

  “It’s summertime, old friend. The chance of a storm at sea is pretty slim right now. Anyway, we encountered Sorgan down near the south coast, and the notion of burning Church ships has him all excited, doesn’t it?”

  “It thrills me more than just a little, as well,” Narasan admitted. “The thought of having one enemy army attacking from the north and another from the south didn’t make me very happy.”

  “What’s in that bag you’ve got tied to your back, Gunda?” Padan asked.

  “We’re not going to laugh about this are we, Padan?” Gunda demanded grimly.

  “Why would I want to laugh?”

  “It’s an idea that Andar dreamed up one night. All of the army’s food supplies are stacked up in big piles on the riverbank. Danal had conscripted a fair number of burly soldiers to carry them up here, but the weight of the packs slowed them down to a crawl, and that was hindering the movement of the rest of the army. Andar suggested that reducing the weight might speed things up, so from here on, every soldier who comes up that pass will be carrying twenty-five pounds of food with him.”

  “Now that would never have occurred to me,” Narasan admitted.

  “What are you carrying, Gunda?” Padan pressed.

  Gunda clenched his fist and held it up in front of Padan’s face. “Beans,” he said, “just beans, and don’t even think about laughing, Padan.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it, old friend,” Padan replied with no hint of a smile.

  “Good. You get to keep your teeth, then.” Gunda turned back to Commander Narasan. “Has anybody seen any of the snake-men yet?” he asked.

  “No,” Narasan replied, “but the enemy knows that we’re here. It appears that the thing all the natives call ‘the Vlagh’ has been experimenting again. It has scouts watching us, but this time they’re bats, not snakes. They’ve still got poisonous fangs, though.”

  “Flying snakes?” Gunda exclaimed.

  “It’s not quite as bad as it sounds, Gunda,” Padan said. “That clever little Maag who works for Hook-Beak suggested that fishnets might be the best answer to the problem, and it seems to be working quite well. None of our people have been bitten—yet.”

  “Don’t start tacking ‘yets’ onto everything you say, Padan,” Gunda growled. “That’s very irritating, you know.”

  “Just trying to cover all the possibilities, old friend.”

  “I’m glad you came on ahead, Gunda,” Narasan said. “You’re the expert when it comes to building forts, and we’ve got a bit of a problem staring us in the face this time.”

  “Oh?”

  “If you look around, you’ll see that this basin up here’s surrounded by fairly steep ridges—all except for this one on the north side—and that, naturally, is almost certainly the direction from which the enemy will attack. There’s a gap about a mile wide in this ridge. I think it’d take almost all summer to build a fort that big. Padan’s had men laying a base across that gap, but it’s slow going, I’m afraid.”

  “You must have slept through some of our classes when we were boys, Narasan,” Gunda said bluntly. “When you want to block off something of that size, you build a wall, not a fort. After I’d heard about that, I made a special trip off to the area to the east of Kaldacin to look at the wall that separates the cities of Falka and Chalan. The people of those two cities never really got along with each other, for some reason, so the rulers sort of collaborated in the building of a wall that separates them.”

  “Bugs—or snakes, for that matter—wouldn’t find climbing a wall very difficult, Gunda,” Padan objected.

  “They will if there are towers jutting out from the face of the wall every hundred feet or so, Padan—particularly if there are archers on top of the towers. Archers could peel them off that wall every time they started to crawl up, couldn’t they?”

  “You might be right, Gunda,” Padan conceded.

  “Let’s try it,” Narasan said. “This problem’s been keeping me awake for quite some time now.”

  “You can go back to sleep now, glorious leader,” Gunda said smugly. “Mighty Gunda has returned, so all’s well.”

  “That’s very irritating, Gunda,” Narasan said sourly.

  “I’m glad you liked it, glorious leader. Now, then, what did
you want me to do with these beans? I’m starting to get a little tired of carrying them around.”

  “It’s called ‘basalt,’ Subcommander Gunda,” Keselo explained. “We almost never encounter it down in the Empire, but it’s quite common in areas where there are volcanos.”

  “What makes it break off square like this?” Gunda demanded.

  “I’m not really certain, sir. Our instructor at the University of Kaldacin didn’t give us too many details when he was describing rocks that weren’t common in the Empire.”

  “Was there anything you didn’t study when you were going to school, Keselo?” Gunda asked curiously.

  “Not really, sir,” Keselo admitted. “I was trying my best to avoid making decisions at that particular time. I did avoid theology, though. The teachers in the theology department were all Amarite priests, and the students in their classes were expected to pass around a collection plate during every session.”

  “Those people will do almost anything to get their hands on all the money in the world, won’t they?”

  “They always seem to try, sir,” Keselo agreed.

  “At least we earn our money. Let’s go back to this rock. Is it strong enough to use for buildings—or forts?”

  “It’s a bit more brittle than granite, sir, but the enemy this time doesn’t understand catapults or battering rams, so basalt should stand up.”

  “That’s all I really needed to know,” Gunda said. “Flat rocks are easier to work with than round ones, and these flat black rocks are scattered around all over up here.”

  “That’s probably because we’ve got volcanos all around us here.”

  “Fire-mountains, you mean?” Gunda asked with a certain alarm.

  “That’s what Red-Beard called them. Not every volcano spits fire, though. Some of them just spew out ash instead of liquid rock.”

  “Is there any kind of warning when something like that’s about to happen?”

  “There are usually a few earthquakes before the top of the mountain gets blown away.”

  Gunda shuddered.

  Keselo looked on out toward the grassy basin. “Here comes Rabbit,” he said.

  “Wasn’t he supposed to go south with Sorgan?”

  “Veltan borrowed him,” Keselo explained.

  “What an interesting idea. I can’t remember the last time I borrowed somebody.”

  Rabbit came up from the grassy basin to join them on the shattered ridge line. “I hear tell that you’re going to build a wall along here,” he said.

  “That’s the plan,” Gunda replied.

  “Would it bother you if I made a suggestion?”

  “Not really,” Gunda said. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Do you suppose that when you get up to the top you could add some poles about ten feet tall on the front side and the back?”

  “That shouldn’t be too hard. What are we going to use poles for?”

  “To hold up the fish-netting.”

  “I don’t think we’ll see very many fish trying to fly over the top of the wall, Rabbit.”

  “Maybe not, but we probably will see the bug-bats. Longbow seems to think that they’re just flying around to see what we’re doing, but Red-Beard said that he could smell the venom on the one that Longbow killed. If they get all tangled up in the fish- netting, they probably won’t be able to bite anybody.”

  “That’s not a bad idea, but I think the net might get in our way if we’ve got enemies climbing up our wall.”

  “Bats only come out at night, I’ve heard,” Rabbit said. “We can raise the nets up high enough to get them out of your way in the daytime, and then lower them again when the sun goes down.”

  “That might work out fairly well,” Gunda conceded. “Trying to fight a war at night wouldn’t be very much fun, anyway.”

  The flat black rocks Keselo had identified as “basalt” worked very well, and, since Gunda had the majority of the men in Narasan’s army at work building the wall, it was coming along even faster than they’d hoped. If the snake-bug-bat-whatevers held off for just a few more days, the wall—complete with the towers—would be finished, and the whatevers would be in deep trouble.

  Narasan spent most of his time now observing the progress of Gunda’s wall, but he also kept an eye on the progress of the breastworks Padan’s men were building on down the slope that angled up from the floor of the vast desert the natives called “the Wasteland.” The breastworks were being erected in the classic half-circles, butted up against the ridge on the right of Gunda’s wall, circling down the slope and then coming back up to rejoin the ridge on the left side. The slope was littered with chunks of basalt, so there was plenty of building material available. The first breastwork was fairly close to Gunda’s wall, and when that one was finished, Padan’s men began to erect the second one. If Padan had enough time, he’d quite probably keep building those breastworks until he reached the desert floor. All in all the breastworks and Gunda’s wall had reproduced a fairly standard defensive position. There were a few local peculiarities as well. Gunda had heard that some Trogite armies included sharpened stakes in front of each breastwork to hold off advancing armies, but Gunda was almost positive that the stakes back home had not been dipped in deadly venom. All in all, Gunda was quite pleased with their project. They had effectively replaced the shattered ridge line, and they could almost certainly hold their fortifications in the face of whatever the enemy tried to throw at them for the rest of the summer.

  Off to one side of the breastworks young Keselo was training the local farmers in the rudiments of the phalanx formation, and Gunda was forced to admit that the boy was really very good. The farmers he was training were almost as good as professional soldiers now. “Have you been watching Keselo very closely, Narasan?” Gunda asked. “That boy’s coming right along, or had you noticed that?”

  “I’ve been watching Keselo for quite some time now, Gunda,” Narasan replied.

  “He’s good, isn’t he?”

  “Indeed he is. If we can manage to keep him alive, he might go a long way in our army.”

  “All the way to the top, maybe?”

  “It’s not entirely out of the question, Gunda. He’s extremely intelligent, and he’s an excellent teacher. I didn’t really think those farmers would be of much use during this war, but Keselo’s managed to make first-rate soldiers out of them in a very short period of time. Of course, they haven’t actually encountered the enemy yet, but I’m fairly sure they’ll hold their positions when the enemy attacks.”

  “We’ll see,” Gunda said. “This isn’t what I’d call an ordinary war. So I’m not about to make any bets.”

  Gunda’s wall was nearly finished when Veltan came up from his encampment near the geyser to advise Narasan that Longbow’s humorous friend Red-Beard had just arrived with several thousand of the archers from the Domain of Lady Zelana. “He met with Longbow over on the western ridge,” Veltan said, “and he has quite a bit of information that you and your men should know about, Narasan.”

  “Like just exactly where Longbow’s been lately?” Padan suggested.

  “He’s been keeping busy,” Veltan replied.

  Red-Beard was speaking with Lady Zelana when Narasan and his officers approached the camp.

  “Just exactly what’s Longbow been up to here lately,” the little Maag called Rabbit asked Red-Beard. “He’s been running off into the mountains every time I turn around.”

  “He’s up near the top of the western ridge,” Red-Beard replied. “At least that’s where he was the last time I saw him. I understand that there’s some trouble off to the south.”

  “We’re sort of hoping that Longbow’s taking care of it,” Commander Narasan said. “I detached all the archers in the army to help him hold back that second invasion.”

  “He mentioned that,” Red-Beard replied. “Things might go better for him now that he has archers who know which end of an arrow is which. I wouldn’t offend you for the world, friend
Narasan, but your army archers aren’t really very good, you know. Don’t they ever practice?”

  “Army policy seems to get in the way, friend Red-Beard,” Padan said. “Trogite soldiers are required to spend five hours a day marching, and another five hours practicing their swordsmanship. That doesn’t leave them very much time to improve their skills as archers.”

  “Why do they even carry swords?”

  “Tradition,” Padan replied with a shrug. “Army officers—and drill sergeants, of course—view traditions as something holy. Soldiers are supposed to kill each other with their swords. The bow is viewed as an abomination. Killing somebody who’s more than five feet away just isn’t proper.”

  Red-Beard looked at Commander Narasan. “He’s just making this up, isn’t he?” he demanded.

  “Not really,” Narasan replied, sounding a bit embarrassed. “Maybe it’s time for us to give some thought to changing a few rules.”

  “Won’t that make the world come to an end?” Padan asked.

  Narasan ignored that. “Go on with your story, Red-Beard,” he said.

  “Longbow told me that he’d had to do most of the work when the people in red clothes came running up one of the narrow gullies. I guess your archers can see the people in red clothes, even if they can’t put an arrow anywhere close to them, so Longbow’s got them watching every gully that comes up here from down below. Things will probably go much better now that he has people who know what they’re doing. I don’t think the people in red clothes will give us much trouble now.”

  “We need those archers here, Red-Beard!” Gunda protested. “Our entire defense here hinges on them.”

  “I’d say that we’ve got an interesting problem, then. We can argue about it if you want, but Longbow’s already got half of the archers I brought in over the mountains, and I don’t think he’s very likely to let them go.”

  4

  Gunda’s men were putting the finishing touches to the wall a few days later, and Gunda felt that it had turned out rather well. The flat basalt rocks were solid, even though they were a bit rough. He was sure that if he’d erected such a wall down in the empire, it would have generated quite a few sneers, but this wasn’t the empire, and Gunda hadn’t had time enough—nor the inclination—to sheathe his wall with polished marble slabs.