"But they cannot even level their pikes without braining the man in front of them," Xandros observed. "Forget marching and changing formation."
"Patience, my dear Xandros. They just need practice. It will come to them."
"Perhaps they would be capable of planting their pikes in the ground and resisting a charge, I suppose. They are brave enough lads."
Deon had them raise their pikes again. He dismounted and took a pike from one of the soldiers, raising it and lowering it, turning about face, marching before them. Through the farsee stone, Hurrus could see that his face was red with rage. He could almost read his lips, and what spewed from them was not pretty.
Before looking away from the stone, Hurrus surveyed the foot soldiers. They stood straight, unbowed, even under Deon's withering tongue. He could see nothing of their faces but their eyes, and they glared fiercely. "They are the stuff of victory, Xandros. Anyone can be taught to level a pike. But these men, these new men of mine, have hearts of lions."
Hurrus had concentrated his recruitment efforts among Gyriecians. To his surprise, most of the new men were second, third and fourth born sons of the soldiers of Xarhux, those who had come to Tygetia with Myletos. First-born boys, Hurrus found, future inheritors of great wealth, were soft men, useless and timid. Their brothers were bold glory-seekers. They would fight for Hurrus; he saw it in their eyes. "Your brothers inherit Tygetia," he had told them. "You will inherit Gyriece!"
"The new may have hearts of lions, but the old, I'm afraid, have hearts of jackals." Xandros nodded toward a mounted squadron. "The First Talon of Horse, I think, is a total loss."
The First Talon of Horse was easily distinguishable by the gaudy black-and-white striped Ashurian tiger pelts that adorned their horse's backs and the leopard skins the men wore over their shoulders. One hundred of them hovered around the drilling phalanx, jeering at the foot soldiers. Even from the hilltop, Hurrus could hear their mocking laughter.
"They fancy themselves an elite," Xandros said.
"Perhaps as Tepes had trained them--" Hurrus began, but Xandros cut him off.
"They are trained for nothing but chasing down camp whores and plundering baggage trains!"
Hurrus smiled. It was the same line he had heard Xandros spit in their faces when he had taken away their bows and javelins and re-equipped them with lances, bronze corselets and greaves.
"Now, you will cut down men," he had told them.
"But Sarians are whores, most of them," their squadron commander, a sullen man named Temet had shot back, to a chorus of laughter and jeers from the hundred. Temet had been one of Tepes' favored officers. When Tepes had left the Corps, Temet had refused to leave the cavalry where he had established his own little fiefdom among Tepes' former soldiers. He enjoyed a great deal of loyalty within the ranks and caused Xandros more than a little frustration.
"I am not building you to fight Sarians," Xandros had snapped at them, "but to fight Gyriecians!"
That had quieted them, at least until they had overcome their fear.
"Look at them," Xandros said crossly. "Even now, they do not wear the armor I gave them." He took the farsee stone from Hurrus' hand and gazed through it disapprovingly. "On whose order do they not equip themselves as I commanded them?"
"Tepes used the First Talon as he used all of his cavalry, for scouting and raiding," Hurrus said. "They fought with missile weapons and dashed away at the first sign of danger."
"I am doubtful I can make a good heavy cavalry out of them," Xandros said. "They are a squadron of reavers, not soldiers."
"Perhaps they will request transfer when I ask them to deliver me victory rather than plunder."
Xandros gave Hurrus a sidelong glance. "If by 'request transfer' you mean 'desert at first opportunity', this would not surprise me."
Hurrus laughed and stowed the farsee stone safely away in a saddlebag. "Come, my friend," he said. "Let us go down and have a closer look at our troops."
They heeled their horses and started down the slope towards the vast training ground. When they arrived before Deon's demi-talon, shouts rang out over the field, announcing the arrival of the Eagle Man.
"Hail, Eagle Man!" Deon shouted.
Other officers picked up the cry, officers behind him and around him, unseen among forests of vertical pikes and bounding horsemen.
"Hail, Eagle Man!" the cry went up all over the training field.
Hurrus, with Xandros at his side, rode slowly among his men. Pikes and shields clattered, horses nickered and thousands of feet stamped the ground as, one by one, units began standing to attention. A stillness snaked across the field.
Hurrus rode along the front of Deon's green demi-talon. It was one of the last units to come to a halt as the men belatedly found their places in the ranks, the maneuvers not yet natural to them. The soldiers stood stiffly at attention. Suddenly, out of the rigid silence, a single pike began to fall forward like a felled tree. It landed just in front of Hurrus' horse. The soldier whose grasp it had escaped was too frightened to retrieve it. He continued standing at attention, staring straight ahead through his helmet's eyeholes, his fallen pike straddling the great prince's path. It lay there like a shameful secret exposed.
Hurrus heard men snickering behind him, Temet's First Horse. Xandros shot them a warning glance, to little avail.
"Looks like a brigade of shit-shovelers to me," Temet said in a loud voice. He looked at his men and laughter burst from his hundred mounted troopers. Other nearby soldiers picked it up and twittered derisively at Deon's raw recruits.
Hurrus dismounted. He bent down and picked up the pike. He examined it in his hands, tested its strength and the feel of the thing. Satisfied, he handed it to the soldier.
"Thank you, my lord," the young soldier said. "Forgive me, but I…I dropped it," he admitted nervously. "It slipped from my hands."
"The next time it slips from your hands," Hurrus said, "let it be because it has been made slick with the blood of our enemy."
"Yes, my lord," the soldier said.
"Take off your helmet so I can see your face, young man."
The soldier pulled off his helmet and Hurrus saw a man of about his own age, eyes fierce and proud, a wisp of a beard covering a strong, square jaw. He wore a strip of white cloth bound around his forehead.
"What is your name?"
"I am Aryk," the young soldier said.
"A good, strong Gyriecian name. From where does your family hail?"
"We are Irrylian, my lord."
"Aryk of Irrylia," Hurrus smiled. "I am Hurrus of Epiria."
"Yes, my lord," the soldier said uncertainly.
"How do you come to be in Tygetia?"
"My family lost our lands when Demetrius took the country. My father fought for King Myletos in Xarhux's army, so we came to Tygetia."
"And you want to be a soldier, like your father?"
The lad nodded. Hurrus saw a flash of passion cross his countenance. "His armor and weapons had forever hung on our wall, my lord. I grew up fascinated by these things. I was especially interested in a particular dent in his shield, obviously from some mighty blow. I imagined all sorts of great adventures, but the truth was beyond my imagining. My father told me it was from a battle in the Eastern Lands, against Painted Men, as he called them. Do you know of this race of men, Prince?"
"I have heard many tales," Hurrus said. "But of Painted Men, no…"
"My father told me the Painted Men tattoo themselves from head to toe. They have great fangs and carry the skulls of their enemies dangling from their belts. Can you imagine that? So, yes, I want to fight as my father fought. I want to tell of my own adventures…"
"His own adventures--shoveling shit out of the stables!"
The voice was from Temet or one of his horsemen, followed by derisive gales of laughter, grown bold. Xandros made to move towards the group, but Hurrus held up his hand, not taking his eye from Aryk of Irrylia.
"You shall fight creatures even more fear
some than these painted head-hunters, my friend," Hurrus told him. "You shall fight Gyriecians. I will need every brave man. Are you such a man, Aryk?"
"I…I can't accurately say. I long to be…"
"If you long it, you shall be it," Hurrus said fiercely. "You stay with me and we will reclaim your family's land. Do you understand me?"
Aryk's face lit up, but just as quickly, a shadow passed over it.
"Do not doubt me, young man!" Hurrus snapped. He mounted his horse and from the lofty perch turned to face the entire assemblage. "Do not doubt what we will accomplish together," he cried at the top of his lungs. "Do not doubt the great things men like Aryk of Irrylia will achieve with this army! Do not doubt it!"
With that, Hurrus reined his horse around. Xandros gave the order for the training to resume and in an instant, the field was as bustling with activity as before.
"We have a long way to go, Hurrus," Xandros said.
"The men lack only the taste of victory," Hurrus replied. "They must wade through the blood of our enemies before they will believe in themselves. This man Aryk will fight like a demon, he just doesn't know it yet."
"What should be done about the First Horse?"
"Send them to Tepes," said Hurrus sharply. "All of it. They are useless to me. Tepes' men corrupt my corps."
The Corps of the Eagle Man was already down by more than a quarter of the strength it had been when Hurrus took command of it. What was another talon of horse? He remembered the silence that greeted him upon taking command. The corps was slowly becoming his, but it was not a painless process. He would far rather have fewer of his own men than a multitude of Tepes'.
He and Xandros paused at the base of the hill and watched the training from a position where their presence would not be so keenly felt. Hurrus paid particular attention to Aryk of Irrylia. From where they sat, he could pick him out easily, even without a farsee stone. He watched him hold his pike vertically while they marched and then level it. Well done! The phalanx then resumed its advance in attack formation. They were already making progress. Hurrus winced when one of the lad's pikes dipped too far and its point stuck in the ground, sending a shudder through the advancing ranks, making a wreck of the formation.
"It will come to them," Hurrus said to Xandros, who shook his head sadly.
At that moment, Hurrus noticed the First Talon of Horse hastily assembling nearby. He watched the mounted men curiously, as with smirking faces they quickly formed a wedge, one hundred troopers strong. While they had not equipped themselves with the spear and armor Xandros had commanded of them, Hurrus saw that they carried the deadly sopiks, a curved cavalry sword that even Tepes' mainly missile-equipped troopers carried. As a unit, they unsheathed them and held them upright in the ready position, the blades flashing in the sun. Hurrus looked to the tangled phalanx. A great gap had opened where the soldier's pike had become lodged in the ground. He looked back at the wedge of First Horse chargers, Temet at the point. The wedge was an arrow aimed at the disordered footmen. He saw what was going to happen, but was helpless to stop it.
The First Horse started walking forward and then suddenly sprang into a gallop. Swords held high, the horsemen charged in a solid line toward the unsuspecting recruits. They heeled their mounts to top speed and screamed their war cry. The boys of the phalanx turned their faces in terror to see the charge coming right for them. Unable to present a solid wall to the attack, they threw down their pikes and fled in all directions. The cavalry cleaved into them, scattering them like a bevy of flushed quail. They slapped the panicked soldiers with the flats of their swords. The footmen tried to duck under them, falling to the ground, arms shielding their heads. The phalanx was utterly ruined. The First Horse turned and galloped away, their laughter rising even above the sound of the thundering hooves.
Xandros' eyes bulged. "I will do more than send them back to Tepes," he cried. "I will have their heads!" His face was even redder than Deon's who unleashed upon his phalanx a brutal tongue-lashing as one by one his soldiers began picking themselves up from the ground.
Hurrus held out his arm, barring Xandros from rash action. "We will do better than that," he said. "Aryk of Irrylia will have their heads. By gods, he will!"
This was an opportunity, and a crossroads. The men of the phalanx would become soldiers now, confident of victory, or sullen recruits who expected nothing but humiliation and defeat.
"I want 300 silver plated shields," Hurrus told Xandros. "Emboss them with the image of the eagle, wings spread wide. However many craftsmen it takes, at whatever cost, I want them by tomorrow morning." Xandros looked perplexed. Hurrus continued before he could raise an objection. "Deliver them to this field in the morning and assemble my companion body. Tomorrow we fight."
The next morning not only were the shields and the twenty men of his companion body waiting for him but Tepes and his entourage, draped in their leopard skins, came riding over the hilltop. Even from a distance, Hurrus could see the scowl on his face and he sighed. He had not supposed that whatever business brought him here would be pleasant.
He rode up with his men and Hurrus strode forward to meet him. Tepes gave him no word of greeting. He surveyed the training field.
"I'm surprised to see you have an army left," Tepes said, looking down on Hurrus from his mount. "I must have had half of your corps coming to me for reassignment."
"Only half? Well, it is only because your men miss you so that I send them…"
Tepes ignored the remark. "Kerraunus won't take them, so I have been forced to send them all to Garon. I never thought to have a refugee problem in my own army. Needless to say, Bellog is not happy. He wants to know why the Corps of the Eagle Man bleeds soldiers at such an alarming rate."
"Clever of you to put them in Garon's corps where they can't do much harm. I rather think that is what I would have done with them. I'm certain parades will suit them better than battles."
Hurrus could see Tepes bristle. "I left the Corps of the Eagle Man a proud and tested fighting force. That is more than I can say for the green boys I hear you are recruiting to replace my men."
"I believe they are my men, Tepes, and I replace them as I see fit. We were about to begin an exercise you might be interested in. I hope you can stay and watch."
Tepes merely narrowed his eyes. Hurrus turned his back to him and made his way to the wagons of the silver shields and his waiting companions. He mounted and started down the hill. Xandros and his men filed in alongside him, followed by the clattering wagons. Tepes and his entourage grudgingly brought up the rear.
After a moment, Hurrus heard faint cries from the plain below.
"Hail, Eagle Man!"
The cries rose sporadically from all over the field. The call was picked up by others and grew in intensity. Hurrus straightened and was about to raise his hand in acknowledgement when he realized the adulation was directed not at him but at Tepes. He saw the men of the First Talon of Horse rising upon their mounts, eager to make their voices heard. Hurrus looked back and saw Tepes grinning his fiendish smile. Having begun to cheer for Hurrus, the new recruits fell silent and looked about in confusion.
Tepes had ridden up alongside Hurrus. "Perhaps they are my men," he said close to Hurrus' ear and rode on ahead with his hand raised, soaking up the adulation.
"My lord," Xandros said through clenched teeth. "You cannot let this stand. These men are cowards and traitors. You must allow me to arrest them at once."
Deon rode at Hurrus' left. He would do more than arrest them, Deon would. "Let us lay them low, Prince," he said, with fire in his eye.
"Do not be so rash, Xandros. Deon, set aside your spear. I must win the respect of this army. Right now, I command the Corps of the Eagle Man because the crown of Tygetia wills it. I must make it so that it is the army that wills it. Today, we begin.
"Deon, take my companion body and distribute the silver shields to the men of your phalanx. Replace your own shields with them and intersperse yourselves among th
e first four ranks. Your job is to bolster the young men, to give them brave hearts, courage beyond their experience. The horse will fly at you and the young men will want to fall away in confusion. See to it that they do not. Today, we will make soldiers of them. Today, we will show them victory."
Deon and Xandros led the twenty to the place where the phalanx was training. Soon, the men's round bronze shields lay heaped in the wagons and they stood in battle array of row upon row of gleaming silver shields, flashing like mirrors in the sun, their pikes bristling above them. Hurrus found Tepes chatting amiably with the men of the First Horse. They fell silent when Hurrus approached.
"I'm glad you are here, Tepes," he said. "You will soon see your horsemen in action." He felt like he had entered some kind of strange menagerie. Temet's men sat slump shouldered upon their black-and-white striped tiger pelts in their leopard skin capes. It was enough to make a Gyriecian laugh. Or cry. Either way, this was the last day Hurrus would have to tolerate them, but he wanted to send them off with special memories.
Temet regarded the prince with a look of sullen arrogance. Hurrus adopted an amiable tone.
"Yesterday, you taught our new recruits a great lesson, Temet," Hurrus began. "You exposed a deficiency that perhaps would have gone unnoticed without your intervention. The new men need to learn to stand up to the charge of an elite force such as Tepes' First Talon of Horse. I ask you and your men to train with us today. I want to show the new men how to meet your charge."
Temet laughed contemptuously. "That I would like to see!" he spat. "They scattered easily enough yesterday. I daresay, some of them might still be running."
Hurrus chuckled, appreciative of a good jest. "My new recruits are still green," he told Tepes. "They perform shamefully in the face of your veteran troopers."
"No doubt," Tepes said, his bushy brow furrowed in his usual mischievous scowl, his lips grinning. "What say you, Temet? Shall you have another go at Hurrus' new boys? It appears he has given them mirrors to powder their noses in," he added, amused by the line of gleaming silver shields.
The Blood Gate Page 20