by Robert Adams
"I was long ago told that the practice dated from the very start of our race in these lands. In those ancient times, there were very few of us, all male warriors, and a hellacious lot of the barbarians, both male and female. As our distant ancestors came ashore and fought and settled the lands they had conquered, they captured barbarians as slaves; however, these slaves sometimes escaped to breed up still more of their savage kind against the Ehleenohee, so at length it was decreed by the leaders that any male slave kept solely for labor must be deballed, that should he escape captivity, he would not be able to sire more barbarians. For long and long, this rule applied to all male slaves, both publicly and privately owned, but as the barbarians drew back out of the tidewater and piedmont lands and the supply of more new slaves became a rather chancy thing, private owners began to discover the advantages of allowing their slaves to breed more slaves. But the state-slaves continued to be only eunuchs or female. It is still that way, that's all I can say on the subject, Bralos. Whether you personally like it or not, that's the way things have always been, now are and most likely will continue to be in times to come.
"What you and I and the rest of the officers and common soldiers of Council's army have to worry about just now is the strange changes that have been and are coming over the man who owns the power of life or death over us all, Grand Strahteegos Thoheeks Pahvlos the Warlike. And with him in mind, I had best mention now that you are going to have to pay your squadron out of your own purse again, this month . . . and no doubt but that Pawl of Vawn will be needing to borrow from you again to pay his Horseclansmen, too. Captain-of-pikes Guhsz Hehluh, canny, maybe prescient old bastard that he is, insisted on six months' pay in advance, last spring."
"What in the holy name of . . . ? Portos, have you any faintest idea just what he is up to? It's not that I mind seeing my officers and troopers paid out of my personal funds, nor is it all that much of a strain on my assets—yet—but it is not at all the wisest course for a commanding officer to follow: to hold back the due monthly stipends of hardworking, hard-marching, hard-fighting soldiers who have won for him and Council every battle he has put them to for years, now," declared Bralos.
Portos sighed. "I know, I know and you know and one would think that with all his years of experience with armies he would know, as well. At the meeting of senior officers last week, he declared his intention to take the army, all of it, on a long march that might result in some fighting before it was over. Up to the old royal capital and back here, refit and resupply, then back on the march over to Sahvahnahspolis ..."
"And for sure heavy casualties from the accursed swampers," Bralos half-snarled. "Not to think even of the way the horses and the rest of us will suffer from the heat, the insects, snakes, foul water, krohkohthehliohsee and God alone knows what other hellish afflictions. Why the hell try to pick trouble with the swampers, anyway? And just what has his mad schedule of marchings got to do with his withholding of his army's pay and allowances? Doesn't he know that a good many of the officers and even a few of the common soldiers have wives and children around and about this camp who need money on which to live, since they cannot draw army rations, usually?"
"As I said . . ." began Portos, then paused. "Oh, that's right, you were not there at the commencement of our discussion this evening, Bralos. Well, at last week's senior officers' conference, Pahvlos harangued us all at length, and with more heat than was necessary, in regard to the fact that one of the principal things wrong with this army, one of the significant ways in which it differed, to its true detriment, from the old, royal army, was that it contained far too many womanizing men. He declared that he was of the conviction that the company of women and the breeding of children, so far as common soldiers or officers who were not landholders was concerned, should be activities not to be engaged in while still on active service, but rather after retirement. He ordered us to encourage any married or near-married men in those two categories to put aside the women and disown the children. He then suggested that we put our troops to scouring the settlements around the camp perimeters of any females of any ages, class or calling."
"Portos, has he gone stark mad, then?" asked Bralos, with obvious concern. "Should he try to enforce something so heinous on Council's army, he'll precipitate a true mutiny, they'll tear him to pieces, him and any officer or man who tries to come between them and him. For, after all, many of the officers and some of the common soldiers, as well, are in no way or means career warriors, they serve as they do—and that's damned well, as you and I both know and as the Grand Strahteegos should know—because of a sincere desire to help Council bring peace to our borders and order within them. That's why I'm still forking a horse up here at Mehseepolis instead of going about setting my vahrohnoseeahn to rights down south. And I serve you fair warning, friend and Senior Captain Thoheeks Portos, before I see my men pushed to the point of mutiny against legal authority, I'll take them all and ride south to my own lands and the Grand Strahteegos Thoheeks Pahvlos can take his bumboy and his crack-pate ideas about running an army and march straight into the lowest, foulest, hottest pit of hell."
Chapter VI
The cat-footed, silent servants presented basins of warm, sweet-scented water on which rose petals floated to each of Thoheeks Sitheeros' guests as well as to their master himself, followed by soft, fluffy cotton towels. Others came in to take away the trays which held the foodstuffs, but when they made to bear away the dregs of the wine, the thoheeks spoke.
"Bring another decanter of that vintage. There's still the end of a tale I'd hear."
He turned, smiling, back to Captain-of-squadron Bralos and said, "Have you the time to indulge me, my boy?"
Bralos replied, "But ... but I would've thought that, as a member of Council, you surely would've heard it all, long since, my lord."
The thoheeks nodded. "Most assuredly, in several versions, too, but I'd hear yours as well, if I may."
Bralos shrugged. "I am, of course, at my lord Thoheeks' command."
Thoheeks Sitheeros settled back in his chair, smiling. "Very well, now, how much rest was granted you after your whirlwind campaign in the foothills?"
Bralos laughed once, a harsh bark. "Three whole days, my lord, then orders came down through cavalry brigade headquarters that I and the other squadron captains should have our units ready for the road within two weeks. In the interim, all common soldiers were to be restricted to the environs of the camp, save only when on organized details without it. Lancers and light infantry were to regularly patrol the perimeter and enforce this promulgation to the extreme of bare steel, if necessary. Expressly forbidden to enter the camp precincts were women of any description or hawkers of wine, beer or cider, although this last was to not include any merchants or vintners supplying officers, of course."
Upon announcement of this last enormity of senselessness, two of Bralos' troop-lieutenants sought words with the captain upon behalf of married sergeants whose wives lived in the peripheries of the camp, and after hearing them out, Bralos called for a horse and rode over to Senior Captain Thoheeks Portos' headquarters.
But seeing the brigade commander took much more waiting than was at all usual, and when at last he was ushered in and had stated his case, the harried-looking senior captain just shook his head, brusquely, and barked, "Dammit, Bralos, we have to do it because the Grand Strahteegos says we have to do it. If the old man truly considers you and yours to be mercenaries, however, you just might be able to get by with ignoring most of these insanities; Guhsz Hehluh intends to do just that and so, too, do all of the Horseclansmen, the artificiers and the eeahtrohsee, I understand."
"And you, my lord Senior Captain Thoheeks?" asked Bralos. "Your heavy cavalry are as much on loan to this state and this army as are the units commanded by Captains Guhsz Hehluh and Pawl of Vawn, truth to be told. Have you the intention of submitting your officers and troopers to such injustices?"
Portos squirmed his body uneasily. "Let's ...
let us just say that I intend to look out for the welfare of my subordinates wherever and whenever and in every conceivable way possible, Captain Vahrohnos Bralos, as always in times past has been my wont. Such is always a good practice for any officer of rank—from the very highest to the lowest—to follow, I might add. However, an astute officer, one who makes survival a habit, will recognize superior force and bow to it ... if it all comes down to that. As in battle, if faced with impossible odds and with maneuver impossible or pointless, you have but two options, in reality: withdrawal or suicide.
"And now, my good Bralos, I have no more time for you, unless you have other, meaningful business to broach. Preparing both my own squadron and the brigade for the march would be more than enough to occupy all my waking hours, without this other exercise in stupidity, atop all else."
Bralos formally saluted, turned about and departed. He understood, he understood fully. It was but another playing of the ancient military game: guard your arse and duck your head. He would just have to take to sending out the two married sergeants, the three other sergeants who maintained more or less formal "arrangements" with women and the lieutenant who had married the daughter of a merchant of the lower town as a "detail" each evening and having Keemohsahbis, the vintner, bring in his carts enough potables for the entire squadron; such was, he decided, the only sane course to follow in this lunatic war that the Grand Strahteegos seemingly had declared upon his own command. And this was just what he told Captain-of-squadron Chief Pawl Vawn of Vawn when that worthy came riding over that night.
Sloshing the brandied wine about in his cup, the spare, wiry chief remarked, "You know, Bralos, I liked—I really liked—that old man on first meeting and for a long time since, but after all I've seen and heard since you and me and our men got back from this latest campaign up north, I'm beginning to wonder if the old bastard hasn't traded in all of his brains for a peck of moldy owlshit or something.
"None of this latest shit, not one particle of it, makes any sense at all, you know. He's halved the pay of them as are still getting paid, says it's going to be saved against their retirements. He says, too, that all loot taken in the future has to go to the army—him, in other words—and that he'll see any man as tries to hold out anything looted well striped the first time and hung the next time, no matter what his rank. He has offered an amnesty to any officer or common soldier who took loot and kept it for himself in the past if he now will turn what is left of the worth of that loot over to the Grand Strahteegos."
Bralos felt a cold chill run the length of his spine, felt the hairs of his nape all aprickle. "Where did you get this information, Pawl?" he demanded.
The Horseclans chief shrugged. "Part of the shit that was laid down while we was gone, is all, Bralos. Sub-chief Myk, who led the rest of my squadron while we were gone up north, told me about it, and I hunted out the copy of the order from the pile; you've got a copy too, I'd guess, somewhere in your headquarters. You worried about that Yvuhz dagger you took off them bandits, man? Hell, damn few knows about it, anyway, so just pry out the stones, cover the gold hilt with soft leather and brass wire and forget about it, that's what I'd do."
"Fuck that dagger!" snarled Bralos. "Were that all of it, I'd give our overly acquisitive Grand Strahteegos that deadly little bauble in a trice and never again think about it."
"Then what?" asked Chief Pawl, looking puzzled.
Bralos sighed. "Strictly speaking—and I'm dead certain that we had best expect everything to be interpreted in the strictest of terms by our commander in future—the windfall that has established my own fortune could be considered loot."
"No such thing," declared Paw! vehemently. "I wasn't there, then, but I heard about it all from not a few as were. You were given the effects of that slimeball Hahkmukos as suffering-price and loss-price. When informed of how much more you'd found squirreled away in that campaign chest, I've been told, old Thoheeks Grahvos had him a good belly-laugh and said that it was a good thing to have such lucky officers in any army."
"Even so," said Bralos soberly, "I think that I had best consider that the Grand Strahteegos, who has seemed to resent my affluence ever since I managed to buy a squadron, and maybe even before that, has definite designs upon my gold and my lands. I think I had best seek audience with Sub-strahteegos Tomos. Maybe with Thoheeks Grahvos, too, for that matter. Have you the time to ride along with me, Pawl?"
After conferring with Bralos and hearing out all his worries and baleful presentiments, Sub-strahteegos Thoheeks Tomos Gonsalos sent a galloper with a sealed message tube into Mehseepolis, to the palace of Council. Bralos followed shortly with Chief Pawl, their two sets of personal guards and a heavy weight of golden Zenos.
Thoheeks Grahvos and Thoheeks Mahvros received the two cavalry officers warmly in Grahvos' high-ceilinged, airy office, offering a fine wine to wash the dust from their throats and even sending orders that their guards be entertained in the quarters of the Council Guardsmen. Patiently, the two always-busy noblemen listened with clear concentration and patent interest to all that Bralos and Chief Pawl had to tell them. Then Thoheeks Grahvos spoke.
"Gentlemen, did I not know better, know just how much he has done for our Consolidated Thoheekseeahnee since first he came to us, I might think that Thoheeks Pahvlos has taken it into his head to truly destroy this army of ours, drive the best elements from its ranks, certainly, and possibly instigate full mutiny.
"First, that very disturbing report, the other day, from Thoheeks Portos, and now this—it's all enough to give me more gray hairs at the very thought of what may very well be bubbling away in the minds of the men he's abusing and denying the few simple pleasures that they have certainly earned by way of superlative service to Council's army, many times over.
"As regards your good fortune, Captain Vahrohnos Bralos, you must know that no man rejoiced more than did I. However, while I and most other members of Council would consider your acquisitions from that Hahkmukos creature more in the nature of a reward for services, it is indeed quite possible that this new Thoheeks Pahvlos might also be of the opinion that the jewels you found within the cabinet are indeed loot, if only because the previous owner must have looted them from somewhere, at some time. Our good Tomos advises us that you have a plan to broach to representatives of Council today. What is it?"
Presently, Thoheeks Grahvos rang for a scribe and dictated two official documents. Then, while the man penned duplicates of each, Bralos set a small chest of cour bouilli on the table and from it counted out some twenty pounds of gold.
When the documents all had been sanded, signed, sealed and witnessed and the scribe was departed, Thoheeks Grahvos smiled broadly and said, "All right, my boy, it's all done. So far as Thoheeks Pahvlos or any of his faction are concerned, you have admitted taking loot, taken advantage of the broadcast amnesty and conveyed to representatives of Council a golden-hilted dagger plus a certain measure of gold. But between us, you have that document recognizing your generous loan to Council, it payable to you or to your heirs at the end of ten years along with an interest of twenty-five percent the year, and should you die without formal heirs or legitimate issue, it will be paid to your present overlord or his heirs."
"Please, my lord Thoheeks," protested Bralos, "twenty-five percent the year is far too much. Really there should be none. Cannot my lord allow this to be a true gift to the Consolidated Thoheekseeahnee?"
The big, brawny nobleman just stood and stared at the younger for a moment, then he addressed Thoheeks Mahvros, saying, "The next time that Pennendos or Vikos or another of that stripe launch again into their incessant slanders of our nobility in this realm, recall you this day and this most generous minor nobleman. Thank God that we have good men like him still among us to come to our aid in time of need.
"No, my good Bralos, your generosity is much appreciated, but no. Your loan will be repaid with the indicated interest as indicated in this document."
"All right,
Captain Vahrohnos," barked the white-haired Grand Strahteegos at Bralos, standing rigidly before him, "I know that you prized a jeweled, gold-hiked and gold-cased Yvuhz dagger on that mission to the north, so hand it over and I won't have you striped . . . this time. Also, I want in my hands by nightfall of this day all of the gold or silver remaining of the loot you took in times past. When we come back from this campaign, we will see to the selling of your unconfirmed vahrohnoseeahn, in the south, your squadron captaincy and all else you saw fit to squander army monies upon."
"My lord ..." began Senior Captain Thoheeks Portos, who had been ordered to bring Bralos here.
But he was coldly, brusquely cut off in midsentence. "Shut your mouth, Portos! Yap only when I tell you to. My present business is with this posturing puppy."
During the brief interruption, Bralos' gaze flitted to the girlish Ilios, who lay stretched languidly on a couch behind the old man, the long-lashed eyelids slowly blinking, the too-pretty face blank. He wondered whether the pegboy was using hemp or poppy-paste.
"Would my lord Grand Strahteegos Thoheeks deign to peruse an official document of the Council of the Consolidated Thoheekseeahnee?" asked Bralos, formally and very diffidently.
"Give it to me," snarled the old man, adding, "And it had better have some bearing on your crimes against this army of mine. I've had all that I can stomach of larcenous newly rich scum like you lording it over your betters and buying lands and ranks you but ill deserve."
Upon reading the document, his face darkened with rage. From between slitted eyelids he looked up at Bralos with pure, distilled hatred. "You shoat, you thing of filth and slime, how dared you to commit so infamous an enormity as this? I should have you slowly whipped to death or impaled, do you know that? I hope that I never again see so foul an instance of insubordination as you have herein committed, you fatherless hound-pup! Are you aware, Portos, of what your favorite here has done? Are you? Well, answer me, damn you!"