by Джеффри Лорд
Blade ordered two warriors to mount guard over the woman and give her food and water if she asked. Then he strode off to rally his men and start getting things sorted out.
None of the eight hundred Kargoi warriors of the landing party got much sleep for several days, and Blade got least of all. By the end of that time, however, they'd done everything they were supposed to do and a good deal more besides.
The woman said nothing, not even to ask for food or water, but there were seven other prisoners, most of whom talked freely enough. Some talked out of fear, believing that their people were doomed if they didn't cooperate with the Kargoi. Others talked in a spirit of angry defiance, to tell the Kargoi of what a fate awaited them as soon as they moved on. Blade listened carefully to all of them.
The Kargoi had landed on what was now a peninsula, in the land of a people who called themselves the Hauri. The Hauri were neither numerous nor well armed, although their courage and skill needed no further proving. They lived by fishing and diving for shellfish and pearls, and were very much at home both on and under the water.
The Hauri lived in a loose federation of twenty-one villages. Their only «government» was a council of the headmen of each village that met once a month. The headman of the largest village was usually allowed to act as the chairman of the council, if he was judged fit.
The current chairman was young, but he had a large reputation among the Hauri as a fearless sailor and diver, who deliberately sought out the most dangerous fish in the seas. His name was Fudan, and the woman Blade had captured was his sister Loya. She had several titles, all of them long, virtually impossible to pronounce, and totally impossible to translate into anything sensible. For want of a better title, Blade called her «Princess» Loya.
So much for the Hauri. They would be no particular problem, in spite of their stubborn courage. The Kargoi could overcome them and probably wipe them out to the last man, woman, and child, any time they chose. Fortunately, such a slaughter probably wouldn't be necessary. The land where the Hauri lived seemed large enough to hold both them and the Kargoi, if necessary.
Unfortunately there was more to settling in this new land than dealing with the Hauri. To the west of the forests and hills where the Hauri lived lay broad plains, plains the Kargoi would need for grazing their drends. Those plains were also the eastern border of the kingdom of Tor. Two hundred miles farther west lay the great city of Tordas, which held more people than all of the Hauri and the Kargoi put together.
The Torians, it was said, were a people mighty in war. If the Kargoi dared march against them, they would be marching into disaster, and the Hauri would rejoice. The Hauri and the Torians had fought in the remote past, but for several centuries they had lived more or less in peace. The Hauri had neither the wish nor the ability to wage war against the Torians. The Torians' trained lancers mounted on three-toed blue horses could do little against the Hauri if they retreated into their forests and caves. The Hauri preferred to trade the pearls and shellfish their divers brought up for fine weapons and other goods they could not produce themselves.
Blade was loudly assured that the Torians would not feel so peacefully inclined toward the Kargoi. They would attack as soon as the Kargoi moved out onto the plains. They would attack, and they would very probably put an end to the Kargoi. That thought naturally made the Hauri prisoners extremely happy.
Blade was not quite sure what to do with the prisoners. He eventually decided to release them all, including Loya. He also gave them a message for Fudan and the council of headmen. If the Hauri would make no attacks on the Kargoi for three months, the Kargoi would also keep the peace for that length of time. They would also keep away from the villages of the Hauri as much as possible when they marched west toward their meeting with the Torians.
The Hauri would do well to accept this agreement, he said. They had seen that the Kargoi were strong and brave, quite able to conquer this land if they wished. They would rather march west, to find pasture for their drends and measure their strength against the riders of Tor. They were making the Hauri a free gift of peace, and the Hauri would be wise to accept that gift.
None of the Hauri showed much reaction to Blade's proposal. Silently they gathered up their clothing and weapons, and just as silently they slipped off into the forest. The last one to go was Loya. She said nothing, but her eyes met Blade's for a moment, and he thought he saw her smile faintly. Then she was gone into the forest after the others.
The fort built on the shore was no more than a ditch and a rough wall of logs dragged into place and piled up. The place to build a fort that could stand up against a strong attack was farther to the west, on the Torian frontier. The warriors Blade sent west had orders to pick a site for that fort, while avoiding encounters with the Torians as much as possible.
Meanwhile, the wagons and the rafts were starting to cross the water. At Blade's request Paor sent across two hundred riding drends and their riders before letting any of the family wagons and wagon drends make the crossing. Blade was determined to get a line of mounted scouts thrown out to the west as soon as possible. The Hauri might already have sent word to the Torians that the Kargoi were in the land. Then the Torians would come riding east, perhaps in force, and Blade wanted to make sure they did not come by surprise.
The days passed and the shore came alive with the sounds of drends bellowing, axes chopping, trees crashing down, war songs and camp songs, the clatter and banging of craftsmen at work repairing wagons and rafts-all the sounds of the Kargoi hard at work. On the fifth day Naula came over, and Blade was able to spend a few hours with her in his tent.
On the sixth day Rehod came over. He was rather less welcome than Naula, and Blade almost wished Paor had come over instead. Yet it was probably better to have the trustworthy Paor on the far side of the water and the treacherous Rehod over here where he could be watched.
In any case, the Kargoi needed to cooperate more than ever now. Beyond the land the Torians and the Hauri shared uneasily lay the sea-nothing but the sea, on all sides and in all directions for as far as anyone knew.
The Kargoi had reached the end of their journey. They would either live in this land or die in it.
Chapter 19
Blade stood on the wall of the West Fort and looked out across the plains of Tor. To the west they stretched away to a green horizon as featureless and nearly as level as the sea itself. Mounted scouts of the Kargoi were out there beyond that horizon now, and no doubt so were the riders of Tor.
The West Fort had been finished for ten days now. A double log wall twelve feet high enclosed a square two hundred feet on a side. The two walls stood eight feet apart. The space between them was filled with earth, and the top of the outer wall set with a waist-high railing of sharpened stakes. Inside were huts, stables, and storehouses holding drend meat and kaum. Two wells of sweet water were dug at the opposite corner of the square from the stables.
The West Fort stood ready, a base for the scouts and the permanent home of a garrison of four hundred Kargoi warriors. That was too many for the Torians to leave in their rear if they chose to ride east. They would have to eliminate the West Fort before they could feel safe, and Blade knew the fort's garrison could hold it against any army five or six times their strength if they had to.
So far the Kargoi and the Torians had both been sending out their scouts and nothing else. Little skirmishes flared across fifty miles of plains, with blue horses and drends both dashing off riderless afterward. So far honors were about even.
Sooner or later the collision would come. The Kargoi and the Torians could not ignore each other this way much longer. The Kargoi needed to move well out onto the plains to graze their drends freely; the Torians needed to protect their eastern borders.
Even if the Kargoi were willing to give up their drends, Blade wondered if there would be peace between them and Tor. The Hauri certainly would have something to say on the matter. So far the fishermen were keeping the truce Blade had offer
ed them. So far they were also expecting to see the Kargoi move on to the west and fight the Torians. It didn't matter greatly to the Hauri who won that fight, as long as the Kargoi went west. If the Kargoi showed signs of actually settling in the land that had been theirs for so long, the Hauri might start having second thoughts about the truce.
How far west the Kargoi would be able to get was still very much an open question. Tordas was nearly impregnable behind its walls, and so were most of the other towns. The farmlands of Tor were largely intact in spite of the rising waters. So was their army of horsemen that could maneuver as freely across the plains as a ship on the sea. If the Torians wanted to fight for every mile of plain, they were more than strong enough to do so. From their Queen Kayarna on down, they were a proud and determined people, who would almost certainly choose to make that fight.
So the Kargoi and the Torians would meet in all-out battle, and then what? The Kargoi were confident of the outcome-more so than Blade was. He knew the Kargoi would be badly outnumbered, and their drends could never match the nimble-footed horses of the Torians. The line of spearmen might stand against Torian charges, but they could hardly attack. There would be a whole new set of military skills for the Kargoi to learn, and perhaps not enough time for learning them.
Perhaps the Kargoi would not learn fast enough. Then they would find only a grave instead of a home in this land. Blade knew the Kargoi did not fear that. They had come far, and now they would rot give up their drends and their way of life merely because the Torians could ride circles around them.
From inside the fort Blade heard the sound of the gong beating out the call to dinner. From their huts the women ran to the cook shed, carrying pots and bowls. Blade saw Naula among them. He waved to her, to make certain she knew where to find him, and saw her wave back. Then he turned his eyes back to the western horizon-and stiffened.
Since the last time he'd looked that way, the horizon had sprouted two thin columns of dark smoke. As he watched, a third column curled up to join the first two. The sentries along the wall saw the smoke too. One of them leaned over the inside railing and shouted. He was answered by the sound of the gong and the signal drums. For a moment everyone Blade could see stood in frozen silence. Then chaos seemed to descend on the West Fort, as everyone dashed to his post, grabbed up his weapons, or simply got out of the way.
The smoke to the west meant the Torians were at last coming in force. Blade knew the drend-mounted scouts might not be able to escape from such a force after they detected it. So he'd worked out a code of smoke signals. The distant scouts could alert the fort, whether they lived or died.
As the sunset flamed in the sky, two of the scouts rode up to the waiting fort. One of them was wounded in the arm, the other on the thigh, and both their drends were staggering with exhaustion. Blade had them fed and their wounds cared for before he asked for their reports.
Three thousand Torians at least were coming, all Mounted, with a number of wagons that seemed to be carrying siege equipment. That was no surprise. The Torians would not be sending three thousand men to merely ride around the walls of the fort and hurl arrows and curses at its garrison.
It was more than two days before the men on the walls of the fort saw Torian banners lifting over the western horizon. The garrison had plenty of time to finish preparing a proper reception for them.
There was also time for Kargoi reinforcements to arrive-three hundred mounted warriors. The men were welcome, although there was no room for their drends and these had to be turned loose, to take their chances with the Torians, A great deal less welcome was the leader of the reinforcements-Rehod.
Some of the scouts had obviously ridden straight off to the man, to warn him that the Torians were coming and the West Fort needed help. If he could get there in time, he would be able to share with Blade the glory and honor to be won in the coming battle.
Blade wasn't too happy about this. It suggested that Rehod was finding at least some warriors of the Kargoi who would neglect their duty and disobey the orders of the High Baudz himself, to help him win glory.
Blade didn't mind it that Rehod would have another chance to make a hero of himself, one he didn't really deserve. He did mind not knowing how far Rehod might carry his rivalry, or how many of the three hundred warriors he brought with him were his personal followers. In the middle of a desperate battle, Blade didn't want to have to worry about getting men under him to obey his orders, or about guarding his back from anybody except the Torians.
Rehod's men settled in, the sun went down, and the night passed, hour after hour of uneasy watching the darkness. No one slept very well. It was like some of the watchful nights by the shore, with one great difference. Whatever else might be said against them and however formidable they might be, the Torians were human.
Dawn came, with the usual display of colors spreading across the eastern sky. They were just starting to fade when suddenly the horizon was dark with the banners and the horses of the Torians.
There were almost four thousand of them, with a hundred wagonloads of gear and several hundred head of cattle. They settled down around the fort and the garrison settled down inside it. Torian archers rode in to within bowshot of the walls and sent their arrows whistling past the sentries. The sentries returned the favor. Few men on either side were hurt.
Night fell again. Blade considered launching a quick raid, to take the Torians by surprise. He decided against it. He had too few men to spare a strong force, and the Torians hadn't shown what tricks they might have up their sleeve.
Instead, Blade simply doubled the guards on the walls and set lighted torches on the railing every twenty feet. The torches were made of drend-hair rope, soaked in naphtha from a pool the Kargoi had found in the forest and wound around a wooden shaft. There were hundreds of the torches ready and many more gallons of the naphtha in bags made from the intestines of the sea reptiles. The Hauri used the naphtha in their lamps, but had never thought of using it as a weapon. Blade expected it would be a disagreeable surprise for the Torians.
The next morning a convoy of empty wagons rumbled off from the Torian camp under heavy escort. The day passed with more exchanges of arrows, and the night passed with more watching by torchlight from the walls.
In the morning the wagons returned. They were piled high with brushwood and several of them carried heavy logs. Blade could see the Torians fitting the logs with crude handles, tying the brushwood into bundles, and unloading dozens of scaling ladders.
The coming battle would be a straight, head-on collision, in which fighting ability, courage, and sheer stubbornness would mean more than any tricks or surprises. It would also be a bloody shambles, but Blade was confident the Kargoi would hold on no matter how bloody the fighting became. The only thing he had to fear was sheer weight of numbers-and perhaps Rehod's treachery.
It was not pleasant, to realize that he could be more sure of the enemy's tactics in the battle than of a comrade's loyalty.
Chapter 20
Another dawn, the fourth since the Torians arrived. A breeze blew across the grass from the Torian camp, bringing with it the smell of wood smoke and roasting meat. The Torians were getting plenty of firewood from the forests to the east, but they must be getting short of food. The fort, on the other hand, held several weeks' supplies.
The Torians' morning patrol was mounting up. It seemed to be stronger than usual this morning-several hundred men at least. Blade scanned the line of blue horses and barrel-chested, bowlegged riders. The average Torian seemed to be about five and a half feet tall, and wore a combination of pigtail and mustache that gave him a distinctly Mongolian appearance.
Each of the riders had a piece of equipment Blade had never seen before-a large square wooden shield, slung on one side of his mount. Blade stared at the shields for another long moment. Then he whirled, cupped his hands, and bellowed, «Sound the alarm! The Torians are attacking!»
His voice carried to every corner of the fort. Men were das
hing out of their huts and tents and scrambling up the ladders on the inside of the wall before Blade could repeat his call a third time.
By the time the gongs and drums sounded, the Torians were on the move. They seemed to explode out of their camp toward the fort like members of a well-rehearsed dance group. Doubtless they had been doing more than a little rehearsing, well out of sight of the fort's defenders. As he watched the Torian attack unfold, Blade could not help admiring their skill, even though he realized that skill might mean his death within the next few hours.
The horsemen with the shields headed straight for the fort at an easy trot. Behind them moved more than a thousand men on foot, each two or three men carrying either a scaling ladder or a bundle of brushwood. The mass of men and horses moving forward raised a veil of dust from the dry ground. It was impossible to see through that veil and make out what was happening with the Torian battering rams. Doubtless they would appear in their own good time.
Meanwhile the Kargoi were manning the walls with a rush, each warrior with every weapon he had. As they reached the top of the wall and saw the Torian attack, they began dropping swords and spears and unslinging their bows. One by one they knelt, nocked arrows, and let fly.
In their eagerness the Kargoi opened fire before any of the Torians were within range. The Torians' speed quickly brought them under Kargoi fire, though. The wooden shields were too clumsy to protect a man on horseback, and in any case the Kargoi aimed at the horses. The blue-skinned animals began to go down, screaming, kicking, rolling about and sometimes rolling onto their fallen riders. Parts of the incoming line became ghastly tangles of riderless or fallen or stumbling horses and staggering or crawling or fallen men. Neither the Torians nor their horses died quietly.