by Robert Adams
"No, my lord Grand Strahteegos, I am not. I have not yet seen the document," replied the brigade commander.
"Know you, then, Senior Captain, that this infamous malefactor turned the Yvuhz dagger and some pounds of gold over to Thoheeks Grahvos and Thoheeks Mahvros, and they then not only granted him a full pardon for his misdeeds in not turning all his loot over in the beginning, but recognized his landholdings and purchased title in an official Council document, of which this is a legal, witnessed copy. On the basis of this . . . this"—he waved the document about—"this piece of filth, this thing who calls himself Bralos now is confirmed and recognized by Council as the Vahrohnos of Yohyültönpolis, and no matter that he acquired lands and title with gold that was as good as stolen from this army of mine. And not only that, but that aged fool of a Grahvos so phrased this thing that this puppy now is also recognized by council as a captain-of-squadron of mercenary light cavalry/lancers."
"But, my lord Grand Strahteegos Thoheeks," remonstrated Portos, "ever since the Captain Vahrohnos bought the entirety of responsibility for his squadron, you have been referring to him as a mercenary."
The old man glared at Portos for a long moment, then grated in a frigid tone, "Senior Captain, do not ever again display such a degree of temerity as to feed me back my own words, not if you'd keep that ugly head on those shoulders and the flesh on the bones of your back. You and everyone else with two bits of brain to rub together knew just what I meant when I called him a mercenary scoundrel, and it was not a description of his rank or his status in my army, either. If you don't—really don't—know just what I meant, then you are an utter dunce and should not be commanding a section, much less a brigade, in any kind of an army!"
Looking back at the still-rigid Bralos, he growled, "All right, my lord Captain Vahrohnos, you and your sly chicanery have stolen a march on me . . . this time. But be you warned, I am long in forgetting and I never forgive. I mean to see you dead for this, soon or late, I mean to see you die under circumstances that will reflect no slightest shred of honor on either you or the misbegotten house that was responsible for putting a thing like you out into the world, of afflicting decent folk with the fox-shrewd stench of you. Take your slimy document and get you out of my sight! Dismiss!"
Outside, Bralos mounted but sat his horse until Portos came out, his olive face black with suppressed rage, his big hands clenching and unclenching, his movement stiff, tightly controlled. But he spoke no word to Bralos until they were both well clear of the army headquarters area.
"Bralos, had it just been reported to me, I doubt that I would've, could've, believed it. But I heard it, heard it all. I can only surmise that the man is going— hell, has gone—stark, staring mad. Man, you just don't talk to the senior officers of your army that way unless in strictest privacy. He had some choice slights for me, too, after he'd dismissed you, and hearing him I could not but think of how good it would be to see him laid out on a pyre, for all that we have no officer capable of replacing him. He couldn't be as vicious toward me as he could and was toward you, of course, because I'm his peer in civil rank and I could call him out, force him to fight me breast to breast in a formal duel. But what he could get away with saying, he said.
"I tell you, friend Bralos, immediately I get back to my place, I'm going to have to write out an account of all that just happened. I couldn't put such a job to a clerk or it would be over the whole army in an eyeblink of time . . . and that we definitely do not want; there's trouble enough brewing already, thanks to that old man. Then I'm going to dispatch it to Thoheeks Grahvos, at the palace; you can add a statement to it, if you wish to so do."
But Bralos shook his head. "No, the more you stir shit, the more and worse it stinks. Besides, you can say all that needs the saying, Portos."
What with one seemingly unavoidable delay after another, the army was a week late in leaving for the old capital, taking the circuitous northern route now used by traders over roads recently refurbished by gangs of state-slaves. Bralos and his remaining men watched the army march out of the sprawling camp and set foot to the eastern road, led by light cavalry— not a few of these their comrades, Bralos' troopers and officers—and with their supplies and baggage, their remudas and beef herds behind them.
It had been at the very next called meeting of senior officers after the explosive interview with the Grand Strahteegos that this newest catapult boulder had been dropped upon Bralos. After covering the order of the march column as regarded infantry, supply and baggage, specialist units and remounts, each category preceded by the name of the officer to command it and be at all times responsible for it, the Grand Strahteegos finally got around to the cavalry.
"Senior Captain Thoheeks Portos as brigade commander will, of course, exercise overall command of the horse, directly under me. He will also be in command of his own squadron of heavy horse. Captain Chief Pawl Vawn of Vawn will be in command of his Horseclans medium-heavy horse. Captain-of-war-elephants Komees Nathos of Pinellopolis will be in overall command of his six bulls and the three cow draught elephants, assisted by Captain-of-work-elephants Gil Djohnz.
"Lastly, as regards light cavalry, Captain-of-squadron Opokomees Ehrrikos will, for this campaign, command his own three troops and an additional three troops which will be seconded to him from out of the Wolf Squadron, with the senior lieutenants of both squadrons to assist him."
Bralos could not move or speak for a moment. He looked every bit as stunned as he felt, and, noticing this, not a few of his peers and superiors began to mutter amongst themselves.
Raising his voice, old Pahvlos went on to say, "Captain-of-squadron Vahrohnos Bralos of wherever, having shown himself treacherous and most disloyal to me and my army, will remain here with one troop to maintain order in the camp, where those I can trust can keep an eye on him."
Bralos came to his feet at that last, his fury bubbling up in him, his hand clamping hard on the hilt of his saber.
"Draw it!" hissed the Grand Strahteegos, cruel glee shining out of his eyes. "Go ahead and draw that steel of yours, you young turd out of a diseased sow. Draw it before all these witnesses; that will be all I need to put a hempen necklace around your scabby throat, sneak-thief, poseur, illegitimate puppy."
Bralos was on the verge of doing just that, suicidal action or no, but a powerful hand clamped cruelly hard about his upper arm, and in a whisper, Thoheeks Portos' voice said, "Let be, son Bralos, let be, I say. Don't play directly into his hands. He's clearly, obviously trying in every way he knows to provoke you, making no slightest secret of that fact. He couldn't strip you of your gold, so now he would have your blood, your honor and your life, so don't just hand him that satisfaction. You outthought him before; do it again. That will hurt him far more than a honed edge would."
When Bralos let go his well-worn hilt and sat down, there was a chorus of released breaths all about the crowded room.
Putting the best face he could upon his keen disappointment, the Grand Strahteegos crowed, "You see, gentlemen, you all saw it, didn't you? The craven criminal will not even speak to refute my words; he's patently not only guilty of his crimes, then, but an honorless coward, to boot."
Bralos rose more slowly this time, came to rigid attention and said, slowly, clearly, very formally, "Captain-of-squadron Vahrohnos Bralos of Yohyültönpolis prays that he be allowed to appear before a full panel of his peers, that they may hear all evidence for and against his guilt of the charges made by the Grand Strahteegos Thoheeks Pahvlos and decide, therefrom, his culpability or innocence. If found guilty by them, he will leave the army. If found innocent, he will demand that his accusers meet him breast to breast, fully armed, in a formal duel overseen by Ehleen gentlemen."
The old man's face darkened in ire. "Shut your lying mouth and sit down, you thieving cur! No brave, honest, honorable gentleman needs hear anymore of your nauseating misdeeds from anyone. I say you're guilty—guilty as very sin—and that's all that's necessary, hear me?"
"No it is not, my lord Grand Strahteegos Thoheeks" spoke up Sub-strahteegos Tomos Gonsalos, adding, "According to the traditions of this and every other Ehleen army—past or present—of which I have heard or had dealings, a noble officer accused of cowardice or of any felonious conduct by another officer has the right to demand that a panel of officers to include all who heard the allegations spoken or read them written be met as soon as expedient to hear or view all evidence and thereby judge his guilt or his innocence. It would pain me to have to report to the High Lord Milo Morai that so tradition-minded an officer as you refused to abide, in this one instance, by the traditional method and see justice done, thereby."
Glaring hatred at the sub-strahteegos, old Pahvlos made to speak twice but produced only wordless growls of insensate rage, then finally stalked out and left his staff to conclude the briefing as best they could. These men's efforts were not helped by the loud sounds of crashings and hangings emanating up the hallway from the direction of the Grand Strahteegos' private quarters. That the old man had at last found his voice was clear to all; the shouted curses, obscenities and shocking blasphemies were proof of it.
When the meeting had been adjourned and the officers had silently filed out of the building, they all— seemingly of but a single mind and regardless of the crush of preparations still awaiting them in their own units—made directly for the officers' mess, chivvied out the cooks and servants, then commenced their own meeting.
"I liked that old man, I did," commented Captain-of-pikes Guhsz Hehluh. "I respected him, too, but after today, hell, I don't know if I want a man like that over me and my Keebai boys anymore. He carried on like a spoiled brat throwing a temper tantrum, there at the end of everything. What the hell would happen to the fucking army was the old bugger to do that in battle sometime?"
"Something's changed him, altered his character drastically, and certainly for the worse," said Captain-of-foot Bizahros, commander of the infantry brigade. "When first he came to lead us here, it was as if I still were serving under him in the old royal army, and I rejoiced, as did right many other officers and men of the old army. But now . . . it's almost as if another person were inhabiting his mind. He always averred in the past that the commoner soldiers must be treated well by all officers, from the highest to the lowliest, must be always shown that officers have the best interests of their men at heart at all times. But now . . ."
"Yes," nodded Senior Captain Thoheeks Portos, grim-faced, "but in the present state of affairs, we'll be very fortunate do we not have to put down a mutiny or two during this campaign . . . and if not then, then surely when we get back and our units once more go under these ridiculous, divisive camp strictures of no women, no alcohol save the thoroughly watered issue and no movement outside the perimeter save on organized details."
"It seems to me, and God grant that I'm wrong, in this instance," opined Captain of Light Infantry Ahzprinos, "that our esteemed Grand Strahteegos is dead set upon splitting up our army—destroying any rapport between the officers and the common soldiers of their units, fomenting dissension of all sorts between the units and the officers, first playing foot against horse, then playing mercenary against regular units and so on.
"Take the beginning of this business today, for instance. He knew damned good and well that Captain Opokomees Ehrrikos and Captain Vahrohnos Bralos have had differences and are not on the best of terms even yet, and it seemed he could not rest but had to pick at that scab."
"What was or is between Bralos and me is our personal affair," said Captain Ehrrikos bluntly, "and I did not at all like him using or trying to use it as a foil to make more bad blood between me and a military peer. Bralos, I didn't and don't want the responsibility of a double-size squadron thrust willy-nilly upon me, but as you must know, I had, have and will have damn-all choice in the matter, not so long as I continue to serve under this increasingly strange, new-model Grand Strahteegos Pahvlos.
"But Bralos, comrade, you have my word of honor before all of these gentleman-comrades that your troops and officers will in no way be made to suffer while under my command. They'll be asked to perform nothing that my own troops are not asked. I will deal with them at all possible times through their senior lieutenant or troop-lieutenants and they will be stinted on neither remounts nor supplies. Our Grand Strahteegos is both my military and my civil superior and I am sworn to obey his orders, where such orders do not impinge upon my personal honor, but I'll be damned if I'll serve him as a rod with which he can punish an officer to whom he has taken a dislike or that officer's subordinates, either."
Sub-strahteegos Thoheeks Tomos Gonsalos said, "That is a good and a most noble gesture, Captain Ehrrikos. You other gentlemen should take it to heart, recall it when next that old man makes to set two of you to fighting, tearing at each other like alley curs. Remember that the continued cohesion and existence of this army is vital to the continued power of Council and to the very survival of these Consolidated Thoheekseeahnee. If you don't want, to see a return to conditions of anarchy and chaos in these lands, then you must all cooperate to defeat whatever schemes this once-great man's mind is apparently concocting. For all I know, he wants to be king, but if he does, it would seem to me he'd be trying to bind the army to him, not erode its discipline, fracture its cohesion and drive its best officers and common soldiers away from it."
The army was gone for six weeks. Immediately it had marched back into the camp, while still the trains were making their dusty way to their depot, with a cracking of stock-whips and the shouts and foul curses of drivers and drovers, Captain-of-squadron Opokomees Ehrrikos of Panther Squadron and Senior Lieutenant Hymos of Rahnpolis reined up and dismounted before the building housing the camp headquarters of Wolf Squadron. After slapping as much dust as they could from their sweat-stained clothing, they entered to confront Bralos.
The first look at the officers' faces told Bralos that something was amiss, and he suffered another cold chill of presentiment. Even so, he saw both the tired, sweating men served cool, watered wine and waited silently for the bad news for as long as he could bear it before finally demanding, "All right, how many men were lost from my squadron, Ehrrikos?"
"One killed, neck snapped when his horse fell at the gallop; the horse had to be put down, too. Three injured; one stabbed in the thigh with a spear, one knifed in some senseless, pointless brawl of a night— the eeahtrohsee give him a forty-sixty chance of living— one with his clavicle broken by a fractious remount horse."
"Then why the long faces, gentlemen?" demanded Bralos, still more than certain that something was terribly wrong.
The senior lieutenant opened his mouth to speak, then, but kept silent when Captain Ehrrikos spoke first. "Almost to the old royal capital, there was a small bit of action on the road, you see."
"Bandits?" said Bralos with incredulity. "They must've been mad to nibble at a column so large and strong."
"No, not bandits, but certainly mad, nonetheless, Bralos. There was a gang of state-slaves at work at a crossroads, not working on the main road, but on the one crossing it there. A troop of your boys was riding back down the column to relieve another troop—one of mine—that had been riding rearguard for some hours. When some damned farmboy wight of an infantryman dropped a spear, one of the slaves grabbed it up, used it to slay two slave guards, and then two more slaves were armed. The other guards happened to be on the other side of the road with the marching column between them and the action, so your Lieutenant-of-troop Gahndos of Rohthakeenonpolis bade his men encircle the murderous slaves and disarm or kill them. He's a good officer, that one, Bralos, but of course his early training was under me.
"The troopers had to finally kill all three of the slaves—that's where your trooper got the spear wound in his thigh, he came in under your man's lance only to get another in his whip-whealed, scabby back before he could withdraw the point of the spear. At the very end of the action, the Grand Strahteegos and his guards
came pounding back from the head of the main column.
"Now in that ruckus, one other of your common soldiers, a sergeant, had been thrust in the armpit by one of the slaves he was trying to hit with the flat of his saber; in the withdrawal, the hooked blade of the slave-guard spear caught in and tore loose a good part of the upper sleeve of the sergeant's arming-shirt."
"Uh-oh!" said Bralos, shaking his head. "Pahvlos saw the mail lining?"
"No, not at first. In fact, he was reining about to go back when his damned Ilios Pooeesos saw and pointed it out to him," replied Captain Ehrrikos sourly. "But he just stared, then rode on back up to his place in the column, and the march resumed from there.
"That evening, however, when we were barely done with the horses and the cooks were minding the rations, the old man rode in with his guards and a troop of heavy horse, fully armed and with Senior Captain Portos along for good measure, though he had left his pegboy in his pavilion, sitting on his peg, I suppose.
"He ordered me to fall out all of your troops— officers, sergeants and troopers. I did, what else could I do, Bralos? He ordered that they be assembled in ranks unarmed but carrying their arming-shirts, and this was obeyed. Then he and several of his guards dismounted and stalked up and down the ranks, using knives to cut the sleeves from off every arming-shirt save only those of the officers, throwing the sleeves out on the ground before the formation.
"That all done, he preached your three troops a long homily that concerned mostly his belief that an excess of useless armor slowed down troopers and needlessly overweighted their mounts. Nor could he stay a few stabs at you, it seems, telling them that they would not be punished unless they should try to reaffix the sleeves without first removing the forbidden mail inserts from them. He chided them for continuing to serve under a base, thieving, forsworn, arrogant, impudent, insubordinate . . . have I forgotten any, Hymos, my boy?"