by Jack Vance
Aillas knew well the fortifications of the Castle Sank citadel: the walls were high and the stone was sound. Traveling light, he had brought no siege engines, nor was there time for a protracted investment of the fortress; he hunted larger game.
Aillas spoke to the erstwhile slaves, of castle and sawmill. "You are once again your own men, as free as the air, and the way lies open to the south. Go to Doun Darric on the Malheu River; there present yourselves to Sir Maloof, who will find you employment. Should you feel inclined to kill Ska, you may join the army of the king. Take food from the commissary yonder and load it on the horses; arm yourselves as best you can and take to Sir Maloof these horses captured from the Duke's stables. You, Narles, whom I remember as a decent fellow, I place in command. For utmost security, travel by night and sleep by day in the coverts. You should find no trouble; the region is free of Ska."
"There are Ska up at the tin mines," spoke one.
"In that case, do not go near the tin mines, unless you elect to fall on the Ska from ambush and strike a sound blow for your new king."
Narles said in a subdued voice: "I fear that is beyond our powers at the moment; we require every iota of our courage simply to run away."
"You must do as you see fit," said Aillas. "In any case, leave at once, and may good luck go with you."
Diffidently, the former slaves took their departure.
A day passed, and another, during which Aillas did as much damage as possible to Castle Sank and its precincts. Three times his scouts rode back announcing the approach of Ska riders, all from the direction of Poelitetz. The first two parties were small groups of a dozen riders each; they rode blindly into ambush, and suddenly found themselves surrounded by archers with drawn bows. In both cases they ignored the command: "Surrender or die!" Spurring their mounts and bending low in the saddle they tried to break free from the trap, and were instantly killed, thus relieving Aillas of the awkward problem of dealing with prisoners.
The third party was a different matter, and consisted of about eighty heavy cavalry coming down from Poelitetz, evidently for reassignment elsewhere.
Again Aillas set up his ambush of archers and mounted knights in a copse beside the road. Presently the Ska contingent, riding four abreast, came into view: seasoned troops, confident but far from reckless. They wore their conical black-enameled steel helmets and shirts of chain mail, as well as greaves. They carried short lances, swords, chain-balls— the so-called "morning-stars"—with bow and arrows in quivers at their saddlebows. As they came placidly along the road, thirty-five Troice knights charged from the copse and galloping downhill with lances leveled, struck into the rear third of the column. To cries of horror and shock the lances drove through chain mail and lifted the riders from their horses, to drop them into the dust beside the road.
Riding up the hill and reforming, they charged once more. From the copse poured arrows, each aimed with careful intent. The commander bawled orders to depart this place of death, and the column started off at full gallop. On the hillside four ropes were cut, allowing a great oak tree to topple across the road, and the Ska troops for a period lost their organization.
Finally, battling desperately, hand to hand, the Ska managed to collect in a small group. Three times Aillas called for surrender, before pounding them again with his knights; three times the Ska absorbed the blows and reformed as best they could, and with stern faces hurled themselves upon their enemies.
There was to be no surrender; all would die on the sun-dappled road.
III
IN A SOMBER MOOD Aillas led his troops back to Castle Sank. A victory such as this, which had been, in fact, sheer slaughter of valiant men, brought no exultation. The deed was necessary, no doubt as to this, since it was how the war must be won. Still, Aillas could feel no pride in the event, and was gratified to discover his troops were of similar mind.
All taken with all, he had reason for satisfaction. His casualties had been light; his units had conducted themselves with flawless precision; for the Ska the loss of so many veteran troops was a major disaster.
"If ambush I must, then ambush I will," Aillas muttered to himself. "A fig for chivalry, at least until the war is won."
From Castle Sank Aillas sent back wagons to salvage weapons; Ska steel, forged with infinite patience, equalled the best in all the world, including the fabulous steels of far Cipangu, and the lesser blades of Damascus.
The time had come to move west, to deal with those troops coming up from Suarach which might have evaded the attentions of Sir Redyard.
At dawn the investing force made ready to depart. The events of the next few days were unpredictable and all carried rations of hardtack, cheese and dried fruit in their saddlebags.
Minutes before departure one of the scouts rode pell-mell into camp, bringing news of a Ska company approaching from the northwest, along that road which led to the Ska Foreshore and Skaghane. This company consisted of several persons of quality and their escort, including one who might well be Lady Chraio, spouse of Duke Luhalcx. along with another lady of middle years, and a youth. The escort consisted of a dozen lightly-armed horsemen; clearly no news of the events at Sank had yet been made known across North Ulfland.
Aillas listened with keen interest. He asked: "What of the Lady Tatzel? Was she not among the group?"
"As to that, sir, I cannot say surely, since I am not acquainted with the lady, and I necessarily spied upon the column from a distance. If she is in her middle years, she might be one of the two ladies I have mentioned."
"She is young, and almost like a boy in the shape of her body."
"A youth rides with the group. I took him for a lad; he could be the Lady Tatzel riding in a boy's garments. This is not unusual among the Ska."
Aillas called Sir Balor, one of his Ulfish captains, and gave instructions. "Select your ground so that you can surround the group, and kill only when you must. Under no circumstances harm the ladies or the youth. Send off your captives to Doun Darric with an appropriate guard, then rejoin us at your best speed."
Sir Balor rode off with fifty men to the northwest. At the same time the balance of the army set out toward Suarach, leaving only a detachment at Sank to hold the siege and destroy any further small groups coming down from the mountains.
Aillas had been restless ever since he had learned of the approaching company. He made an impulsive decision, and placing Sir Tristano in command of the army, rode off after Sir Balor, already half a mile to the north.
The day was warm and bright; the moors were at their finest, fragrant with the sweetness of heather, the tang of furze and the smoky reek of the dank soil itself. The clear air seemed to enhance the detail of far objects, and as Aillas rode over a rise, he commanded a view of panoramic scope: to right and left the rise and fall of the gray-green moors, marked by outcrops of rock and occasional copses of larch, alder or cypress. Ahead, the landscape fell away to the horizon, with far dark marks to indicate forests. About a mile to the west Aillas saw the company of Ska bound carelessly for Castle Sank.
Sir Balor and his company, riding in a swale, were not yet visible; the Ska idled along placidly, oblivious to their imminent peril.
The two cavalcades converged. The Ska, breasting a little rise, paused at the ridge: perhaps to rest their mounts, perhaps to admire the view, or possibly because some subliminal signal had aroused their uneasiness: a wisp of dust, a far jingle of metal, a muted drumming of hooves. For a moment they surveyed the landscape. Aillas was still too far to discern detail, but the thought that one among that far clot of forms might be the Lady Tatzel caused him a thrill of excitement mingled with a darker sardonic pleasure.
The Ska rode forward, and now to Aillas' dismay, the troops of Sir Balor, rather than keeping to cover and waiting to encircle the Ska, rode pell-mell up over a swale only a few hundred yards to the south of the Ska. Aillas cursed under his breath; Sir Balor should have sent a single man to reconnoiter, and now all chance of surprise was lost.<
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The Ska paused only a moment to take stock of the situation, then veered to the northeast on a course which, so they hoped, would bring them closer to Castle Sank: perhaps more close than their assailants might wish to approach. Sir Balor altered his course to intercept them, and again Aillas cursed Sir Balor and his hot-headed tactics. If he were to allow them to approach Castle Sank, they would have been met by those troops left to hold the siege. Then, if Lord Alvicz had attempted a desperate sortie to rescue his mother and sister, Castle Sank itself might have been taken.
But Sir Balor, like a hound on a hot scent, could think only of closing with his quarry, and took his troops pounding across the moors in hot pursuit. The Ska bore away to the north, toward a small forest and, beyond, a rocky knoll surmounted by the ruins of an ancient fort. Sir Balor and his forces came on apace, the faster horses gaining ground perceptibly on the Ska, with the slower strung out behind. Farther still to the rear came Aillas, and presently he could discern the individual Ska riders. He took note of the so-called ‘youth'; it was clearly Tatzel, and she wore a suit of dark green cloth, low boots and a loose black cap.
The Ska were obviously making for the old fortress, where they could most readily withstand the superior numbers of the attackers. They rode into the forest and a few moments later emerged; Sir Balor and his men followed.
The Ska began to climb the knoll; Aillas sought through the group: where was Tatzel? Where the youth in dark green with the black cap?
She was nowhere to be seen.
Aillas laughed. He pulled up his horse, and watched as Sir Balor and his troop rode pell-mell through the forest and out, now with only a hundred yards between the two parties.
Aillas kept his eyes on the forest. As soon as the Ulfish troops had passed, a lone rider emerged and rode away at full speed toward Castle Sank, from which she no doubt intended to bring succor to those at bay in the old fortress.
Her course would take her somewhat to the north of Aillas. He examined the terrain, then swung around his horse and rode to where he might hope to intercept her most easily.
Tatzel drew near, crouched low over the horse's surging neck, with locks of black hair blowing back on the wind. She turned her head and her face became shocked to discover Aillas riding hard down upon her, and she could not restrain a cry of consternation. Snatching at the reins, she turned her horse to the north, away from Castle Sank, in a direction Aillas was not at all anxious to explore. Rashly or wisely, Aillas hesitated not an instant; never before had he flushed quarry so precious into the open, and for better or worse he could not abandon it now, no matter where it took him; and so began a wild chase across the North Ulfish moors.
Tatzel rode a young black mare, sleek, long of leg but with no great depth of chest and perhaps less stamina. Aillas' roan was larger and heavier, and bred for durability; Aillas doubted not that sooner or later he could overtake Tatzel, especially in hard going, and as he pursued, he sought to drive her toward the mountains, ever higher: away from both Castle Sank and the lower moors where she might discover help in the form of a Ska settlement or another party of travellers.
Tatzel seemed intent only upon using the speed of her mare to its best advantage, but the moors afforded uncertain and sometimes dangerous footing, and neither horse could gain on the other. Aillas carried no bow, and so could not put an arrow into the mare's withers to bring it to a halt.
A mile went by, and another; and the horses flagged. With the advantage in endurance, Aillas began to gain, yard by yard, and soon Tatzel must be taken. In a desperation she had never in her lifetime known before, she swung sharply up into a rocky gulch which, between a pair of spurs, led up to the higher moors, hoping, perhaps, to dodge into a convenient covert and lose Aillas as he blundered past.
To no avail. No such covert offered itself, and in any case Aillas came only twenty yards behind, and was not likely to be so deceived. The gulch became choked with sedge and alder thicket; Tatzel turned up the side of the canyon, and, dismounting, pulled her horse up over ledges of rotten black rock and through small furze bushes, and at last clambered up to the stony top-surface of the spur. Aillas followed, but halted when Tatzel began to roll stones down upon him, and so was obliged to climb to the top by a different route, which allowed Tatzel a few yards vantage.
Aillas reached the face of the spur. Gullies dropped away to either side. Behind him it seemed that he could see forever under the windy Atlantic sky: across heather-gray moors, dark declivities, the black smears of far forests. Tatzel staggered up toward the high ridge, pulling her distressed mare behind her. Aillas followed and once more began to close the distance between.
Tatzel mounting her horse, rode at best speed, up to the plateau, with the final thrust of the great Teach tac Teach now looming close at hand, and, most notably, Noc, the first of the Cloud-cutters.
Aillas followed, but found to his great discouragement that his horse had somehow wrenched its leg and had gone lame. Aillas cursed, pulled the bridle from the horse's head, threw off the saddle and let it go free. This was serious misfortune, and suddenly his folly in setting off in pursuit of Tatzel, leaving no word nor message, was brought home to him.
Still, all was not lost, by any means. He shouldered his wallet and set out after Tatzel afoot. So winded was her mare and so difficult the footing among the loose stones that once more he found himself rapidly gaining upon her. Another two minutes should bring her to bay.
Tatzel recognized as much. She cast a despairing glance around the landscape, but no help offered itself; Aillas, observing her face as she looked back at him, could not help but feel a qualm of pity.
He hardened his heart. "Tatzel, dear little Tatzel with your haughty head so high! You have known much of despair and fear and sorrow in others; why should you not feel some of your own?"
Tatzel came to a decision. If she rode onward Aillas would have her at once. On her left hand opened a valley with steep stony walls. Tatzel paused an instant, took a deep breath, then, jumping from her horse, pulled it over the edge of the slope. Sliding, squatting on its haunches, eyes glaring white, nickering in terror, the mare floundered down the slope. Her footing gave way; she fell and began to roll with a grotesque thrashing of legs and torso and contorted neck. The slope increased in pitch; far down the horse struck full into a boulder and lay still.
Tatzel, sliding and clawing, holding for dear life to shrubs and bushes, encountered a patch of loose scree. It slid treacherously from under her feet, to create a landslide which carried her to the bottom, and there she lay dazed. After a minute she tried to move but her left leg could not support her and she sank back in pain, staring at the broken limb.
Aillas watched the disastrous descent, then, with haste no longer of overriding concern, chose a more careful route to the bottom.
He found Tatzel slumped against a rock, face white with pain. He looked to her horse, which had broken its back and lay wheezing and blowing bloody foam. Aillas stabbed it quickly with his sword and the horse became still.
Aillas returned to Tatzel and dropped to his knee beside her. "Are you hurt?"
"My leg is broken."
Aillas carried her to a bed of river sand, and as gently as possible tried to straighten the leg. It seemed cleanly broken, without splintering of the bone, so he thought, and needed principally the support of splints.
Aillas rose to his feet and surveyed the valley. In olden times the river meadows had supported a series of farmsteads, which had disappeared leaving only the crumble of stone fences and a few decaying ruins. He saw no living creature and neither saw nor smelled smoke. Still, beside the river ran the vestige of a trail; the valley could not be altogether unknown to traffic, which might prove to his disadvantage.
Aillas went to the river's edge and cut two dozen willow withes. Returning to Tatzel he peeled off bark and gave it to her. "Chew it; it will help relieve the pain."
From the dead horse he brought Tatzel's cloak, the saddle blanket, and her s
mall wallet of black leather clasped with gold, together with straps and buckles from the bridle and saddle.
Aillas gave her more willow bark to chew, then with his knife slit the leg of her trousers up past her slender knee. He folded aside the cloth to bare the leg.
"I am no bone-setter," said Aillas. "I can only do for you what I have seen done for others. I will try not to cause you pain."
Tatzel had nothing to say, since, in the first place, she found the circumstances confusing. Aillas' demeanor seemed neither ferocious nor even ominous; if he were intent upon a sexual attack would he pause to tie her leg in a splint, which could but interfere with his activity?
Aillas cut a strip from her cloak, and wrapped it around her leg that it might serve as a cushion, then arranged the withes, cut to proper length. Finally, he pulled the leg straight. Tatzel gasped, but made no other outcry, and Aillas strapped the splints into place. Tatzel sighed and closed her eyes. Aillas made a cushion of his cloak and put it under her head. He brushed the damp curls from her forehead and studied the clear, wan features with mixed feelings, recalling other times at Castle Sank. Then he had longed to touch her, to make her aware of his presence. Now that he might fondle her as he chose, his inclination was restrained by a whole new set of strictures.
Tatzel opened her eyes, and studied his face. "I have seen you before. ... I cannot remember where."
Aillas thought: Already she had forgotten her fear; perhaps he was too transparent. Indeed, she seemed to be demonstrating that ineffable Ska certainty of place, which, had it been less innocent, might be considered arrogant. In such case, the game became more interesting.