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Doom's Break

Page 23

by Christopher Rowley


  As he lay there partly stunned, bodies all around him rose up. In sudden terror he struggled to get to his feet, but a calm voice said, "Stay down, brother. We're ready for them." And he saw that he was surrounded by mots in the uniform of the army of Dronned.

  They had found a patrol.

  The mots stood up, leveled their bows, and released at short range. Screams erupted from the charging men, taken by surprise. The mots surged over the hedge and pitched into the men. Soon they had them running for their lives back across the polder.

  Thru allowed himself to be guided into the woods by another mot.

  "This is Captain Dinan's patrol group. We've been looking for any sign of the riders that went up into the mountains."

  Behind them came more shouting as the victorious mots gathered back at the hedge.

  "I am Colonel Gillo, on a mission for General Toshak himself. I have vital information that must reach the general as soon as possible."

  "Then you have found the right unit, Colonel. I will take you to Captain Dinan at once."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  "Thank you, gentlemen. You know the situation, and I know how you're feeling. Let's get on with our business."

  The Emperor stood up and left the table in the big tent. His senior officers filed out, heads filled with potential battle plans plus a few reinforcements of Aeswiren's favorite dictums during this campaign, mostly concerning the need to get along with the native people.

  Tempers had improved over the past few days. The fight in the woodlot had helped concentrate everyone's thoughts on the essential problem of getting former enemies to cooperate. Six men had received forty lashes apiece. Aeswiren was not overly fond of the lash, but sometimes it was necessary. He had the feeling that the men understood that, too.

  Thankfully, Filek Biswas had saved the injured mot, Jelli, who was recovering in Nuza's hospital. During heroic surgery, Biswas had repaired the mot's intestines and sewed him up after cleaning the wounds with alcohol. The mot had survived all this, and Filek gave him a good chance of surviving. Following the news that Jelli would probably recover, there was a marked warming of relations with the mots.

  Aeswiren was quite encouraged by the situation, in fact. The regiments were drilled, practiced, and ready, and from what he understood from his informants their morale was pretty good. Plus the grumbling about fighting alongside the monkeys had declined. Eating big, regular meals, courtesy of those same "monkeys," had helped quite a bit, of course.

  While he was crossing between tents, he caught sight of Sergeant Rukkh, lurking as inconspicuously as possible at the side of the small white tent where the Emperor's personal staff worked. Aeswiren turned to Klek.

  "See that Sergeant Rukkh is brought to me at once."

  "Yes, Lord."

  Once inside his own tent, Aeswiren kicked off his boots and hung up his jacket. As always on campaign, he wore the same military-issue clothes as his men. He kept the gold-plated breastplate only for those occasions when he had to give a formal address.

  On the floor of the tent was spread a magnificent woven mat, a gift from the burghers of Dronned. It depicted a group of mots praying at a shrine. Their upturned faces were illuminated in yellow light, and their surroundings were rendered with remarkable skill. The weave was sumptuous, giving him the same sense of well being that he always got from a nice Nisjani carpet back in Shasht.

  Servants brought in some hot biscuits and tea, and the Emperor took a few minutes to eat. At the same time, he went through the stack of messages that had piled up over the past few hours.

  The bell attached to the front flap of his tent tinkled. The guard looked in. "Sergeant Rukkh to see you, Lord."

  "Good."

  The sergeant entered, saluted, and stood at ease, as he had done on many occasions since Aeswiren had recruited him as an informant.

  "Tea, Sergeant?"

  "Thank you, Lord. You asked for a report on the aftermath of the fight in the woodlot."

  "Ah, yes."

  Tea was poured and sipped, and then, and only then, was Rukkh allowed to proceed.

  "The wounded are recovering well, Lord. The ones with stripes on their backs, too. The general feeling is that it was all just a big stupid mistake. Considering all the history between us, everyone feels that something like this was inevitable. But nobody got killed, and so the whole thing is now becoming a bit of a joke. Meanwhile, everyone is eager to get this campaign over with before winter sets in. If that means a real fight, then all the better."

  "And everyone understands that we'll be fighting against men like ourselves?"

  "Of course, Lord, everyone knows that."

  Aeswiren mulled these words over for a moment. "Well, this is good news you have brought me, Sergeant. Thank you."

  Rukkh was turning to go when the bell tinkled again. The guard lifted the flap. "Lord, it is your messenger from the city."

  "Show her in. Remain, Sergeant, I want you to meet this person."

  A moment later, Nuza entered, wearing a hooded robe to disguise herself, almost as if she were a woman of Shasht wearing the cloth of purdah. Aeswiren noticed that Rukkh stiffened at the sight of her.

  Rukkh had the prejudices of his people, thought Aeswiren.

  Nuza pulled back her hood.

  "It's the monkey woman," said Rukkh without thinking. "Begging your pardon, Lord."

  Aeswiren did not react to the slur. He knew it would take time to change the minds of men. "Sergeant Rukkh, this is Nuza of Tamf. She is a good friend of mine. We met while she was in captivity."

  "Lord, I have met her myself. At the fight in the woodlot."

  "Yes, you were both there when I arrived. I should've known you'd have met."

  Nuza reached out to take his hand. "Greetings, Sergeant Rukkh. You were the hero of that stupid business."

  For a moment, Rukkh was struck dumb, just as he had been back at the fight in the woodlot. Rukkh had seen a lot of monkeys, but never one like this. The world was turning upside down in poor Rukkh's head.

  Aeswiren grinned. Nuza had that effect on men. The combination of her beauty and the odd differences between her and a beautiful woman could be very disturbing.

  Nuza turned to the Emperor. "However, I must cut this short. I bring very important news. This comes directly from General Toshak." She handed Aeswiren a small scroll, fastened in the mot manner.

  "What is it?" asked Aeswiren, then, seeing her hesitate, added. "You can speak in front of the sergeant. He will be hearing about it soon enough, I expect."

  "Lord, Thru Gillo has returned from the mountains. He saw our enemy perform magic and recruit an army of pyluk."

  Many clues suddenly slid into place for Aeswiren.

  "Damn. He's raised an army of these, um, lizards?"

  "Yes, Lord. Pyluk stand taller than mots, or men, and carry club and spear."

  "Well, that explains the mysterious landing party." Aeswiren broke the seal and snapped open the scroll. "I thought those things were uncontrollable. They eat their own young, don't they?"

  "That they eat each other helps keep their own numbers down," said Nuza in a cold voice. "They are predators, nothing more. They cannot be reasoned with."

  Rukkh finally found his voice. "Pyluk are the lizard things we've heard about that live in the east?"

  "Yes, have you seen them?"

  "A couple were captured back in the first year. Big, fierce-looking things, like no animal I ever saw."

  "That's right."

  "Didn't think they could form an army."

  "Spears and clubs, according to our informant here," said the Emperor.

  "Big brutes, heavily muscled. Funny flaps on their heads that inflated when we teased them up a bit."

  "An army?" pondered Aeswiren aloud, rubbing his chin. "Probably don't have real military discipline. Be useful for a single all-out attack. A wild charge to panic us."

  Rukkh understood. "Yes, sir, I see the point. But they'll not be a surprise to us now."<
br />
  "Yes, Colonel Gillo has seen to that."

  "Still going to be a bit of a handful, Lord. An army of big lizards like that."

  "Yes, Sergeant, we will see how sorcery does against discipline."

  "Yes, Lord," said Rukkh. "We've faced sorcery here before. I think we've learned a few lessons. We won't be fooled again."

  Rukkh left with instructions to pass on the news of the pyluk army. Aeswiren wanted the men ready for this new foe.

  "And, my dear, how goes the hospital?"

  "We have fifty-six nurses, all with some training. Surgeon Biswas is teaching twelve of us the skills of basic surgery."

  "You've moved very quickly. I wish I could come and see the place."

  "We've already taken over two whole buildings on Fleek Street. They were tenements owned by the King."

  Aeswiren nodded. "I had heard that the King is a great patron of yours."

  "It couldn't have been done without his help. The Queen, too, has been very helpful. She is quite influential behind the scenes in the city."

  Once again the guard called from the front of the tent.

  A message was brought in from Admiral Heuze. Aeswiren opened it and rubbed his hands together.

  "The enemy has made his move. Their fleet is sailing north."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Drums were beating from Dronned to the Dristen. Clouds of dust rose from the narrow roads as the regiments of Toshak's army moved north. Morale in the regiments was high, though the excitement was tempered by grim experience. Half the army was made up of veterans of the previous campaigns. They knew what facing men in battle was like.

  While the regiments marched north, civilians flooded south, along with a tide of game animals. Again and again, to the amazement of one regiment or another, a herd of elk or deer would suddenly flood the road, fleeing the dreadful rumor of the pyluk.

  Behind the mot army, Aeswiren's army, nine thousand battle-tested men, was also on the march. The two forces kept a distance of two hours march between them, which Toshak estimated gave them the greatest flexibility. Meanwhile, he had sent scouts out across the middle Dristen and up in the northern hills seeking contact with the oncoming pyluk horde.

  The enemy's plan was obvious to everyone. He would land his human forces on the shore somewhere north of the Dristen and seek to link up with the pyluk horde as it poured westward. Pyluk could not be used for disciplined battlefield maneuvers, but they would serve as a battering ram, to break a defensive line. Equally clear was Toshak's objective; to catch one of these forces alone and smash it before they could join together.

  Thru Gillo hurried northward, passing the regiments along the road. He'd left the hospital in Dronned that morning after completing several days of rest and recuperation. Nuza had supervised his rest herself, relieved that he had survived the journey into the mountains.

  She had also seen to the care of Iallia and the chooks. Mukka was recuperating from her wound. The roosters were lodged in Fleek Street. Dunni was still inconsolable over the loss of his Pikka. Iallia had recovered her own strength quite quickly and had volunteered to help in the hospital.

  With his cuts and scrapes starting to scab over, Thru knew his place was at Toshak's side. He was basically fit to travel. He held the rank of colonel, and he had more combat experience than most. Plus he had the best working knowledge of the language of men of anyone in the Land. He shouldn't be skulking in bed. Knowing that Nuza would try to stop him, he slipped away after breakfast, leaving a note for her.

  Back on the trail again, he marveled at what a few days of rest and some solid meals had done to put strength back into his limbs. The feeling of being half dead was gone.

  Soon he came on the rear elements of Toshak's army. Lines of wagons and donkey carts, with their drovers cussing the animals to keep them moving through the muddy conditions. Passing the regiments, acknowledging salutes from mots who saw the red pin of his rank on his collar, hearing the cheers, Thru sensed the excitement that infused the army. Instead of an endless conflict, they faced a final battle, and they were sure they would win. General Toshak always won.

  There were all sorts of rumors, too. That night he slept on the trail with units from the Fourth Regiment. Around the campfire the talk was all about the horde of pyluk that were coming to fight on the enemy's behalf. Some mots scoffed, others expressed unease, but few admitted to fear. Thru knew very well the capabilities of the pyluk, but he also knew that a disciplined force could defeat them. Toshak had made that clear from the beginning of Thru's military education. A disciplined force would always defeat an undisciplined force, as long as it held its formations and kept its nerve. Still, fighting off a column of pyluk would be a fearsome task. Before he drifted off to sleep, he recalled his own experiences with the pyluk back in the Farblow Hills.

  Too tired to dream, he slept through until dawn, then awoke, grabbed some breakfast, and went on up the road. He came over the South Hill before noon and found the village of Warkeen bustling as it had never bustled before. Lines of tents were set up in the fields. Hundreds of mots, donkey carts, and oxen were packed into the road leading to the bridge. The village smithy was going full blast, and every hammer in the shop was in use.

  Cooking fires were lit in every house and every courtyard, too. The village was serving as cookshop to the army as it passed through. Thru kept his eyes open but saw no sign of any of the villagers, or his own family. But, with their house burned to the ground, they would have had no strong reason to return yet. Thru suspected they would all be with his mother's relatives in Dronned country, south of the city.

  Of course, the mystery about the odd pattern of burned houses in the village had been cleared up the moment Iallia told Thru about Pern Treevi's presence among the enemy. He was still musing on the strange malevolence that had taken hold of Pern, as he came up the hill to the big house that Pern had built for Iallia Tramine.

  It was still too big, even ugly by the standards of Warkeen village. A big slab of a place, with all the trees cut down to give it room.

  But, ugly or not, it had its uses. General Toshak had set up his command center there, because it had room enough for his staff to work in one place.

  Thru gave his name to the guards at the door and was soon beckoned inside. He found Toshak looking over an area map with three regimental colonels.

  Toshak looked up, saw Thru, and gave a cry of welcome. He came around the table and shook both Thru's hands. "Welcome back, Colonel Gillo, the hero of the hour."

  "Thank you, General. I was not alone on the trek."

  "Indeed, we have read the whole thing. Chooks helping you row! It sounded impossible, but I'll take your word for it."

  "Without them we would never have got out of the mountains."

  "Congratulations, Colonel," said the closest colonel on his right, Reetti of the First Regiment.

  Thru thanked them making no effort at false modesty. The trek to the mountains had been arduous and dangerous, and he had survived. There was no point in pretending to anything else.

  "How was the hospital?" asked Toshak, drawing Thru over to the table.

  "A busy place, but what would we expect, with Nuza running it? I slept for three days, then I woke up and started eating."

  "Expect you were pretty hungry by then."

  "Couldn't stop, even though it was the same three things every day."

  "You weren't expecting to dine in the manner of the Land, were you?"

  "Nothing is up to that standard anymore," said Reetti with a sigh.

  "The hospital is a great step forward for us. We are indebted to the surgeon Filek Biswas for his inspiration."

  "Besides the chooks, there was a mor in your party, I believe," said another colonel, Vleveld of the Third Regiment.

  "Yes, indeed. She once lived in this very house. In fact, it was built for her by Pern Treevi."

  Toshak caught the name and growled. "The mot who has gone over to the enemy?"

  "Yes.
"

  "It is hard to believe that anyone would go over to the men," said Reetti.

  "Pern Treevi hated his own village. If anyone could do this, it would be him."

  Toshak was nodding. He had personal experience of Treevi's hate. "Every village has a lockup, even if it's only a single room and not used one year to the next."

  "Indeed, General, but to take up arms against your own race. It seems beyond the pale."

  "No argument there, Colonel. Now, Gillo, take a look at this map. You grew up here, so you will know if my mapmakers got it right."

  Thru cast his eye over the map. Cormorant Rock and the river Shell were the northern limit, South Hill the southern. Inland it ran as far as Juno village.

  "The wild water below Juno village isn't quite as big as they have it there. Also, there's a trail that runs around this hill, which is called Stag's Head by some and the Dunnet by others. It's a useful trail, but it's not marked here. There's a pond here and another one here that aren't on the map."

  For a few minutes Thru went over the map, indicating things he knew were wrong. Mostly they were minor details, like Anglu's Pond on Swamp Hill. Toshak listened carefully while his eyes seemed to devour the map, imprinting it on his mind. Colonel Reetti wrote little notes on the map where Thru indicated changes should be made.

  When he was done, Toshak made a final inspection. "Good. The mapmakers did well, but we have just seen how important local knowledge of the ground can be, eh?"

  The colonels nodded in agreement.

  Toshak's hand moved to brush the estuary of the river Shell, just north of Cormorant Rock. "Here's a good place for making a landing, eh? There's only a single bridge, and the river is wide enough to be impassable at high tide. We will move some of our strength north to be ready, just in case."

  The colonels made ready to depart, but Toshak asked Thru to remain behind. When they were alone, Toshak rolled up the map.

  "Well, Thru Gillo, are you ready to return to active duty?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Would you like a regiment to command?"

 

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