"Well, sir, of course, I am trained for that."
"Indeed, you are, Colonel. Better than most of my officers in this army. You've even commanded an army."
Thru blinked but did not deny the charge. He had been forced to take command of half the army of Sulmo when its commander was slain at the battle of Chenna.
"Did a very good job, too. Your escape from Chenna is used in our training courses now."
Thru blinked again; this time from surprise.
"But before your head starts to swell too much, I've got to tell you that I'm not giving you a regiment to command. There's a surplus of regimental commanders now, and you, my friend, have unique skills."
Thru nodded. It was what he'd expected. He'd been Toshak's chief emissary to Aeswiren for months.
"Indeed, you are the perfect mot for this next job. I want you to accompany Utnapishtim to a meeting with the Great King of Shasht. Utnapishtim will explain to the Emperor why he should send his fleet to Sulmo."
"To Sulmo?"
"Sulmo promises four thousand mots under the command of General Ter-Saab."
"General Ter-Saab," Thru repeated. "Excellent choice."
"I thought you'd say that."
—|—
Simona knew she was impressing the Emperor as she marched behind him among his personal staff. She kept up easily, did not tire, and was fresh enough to chat with him in the mot language at the end of the day.
"Where did you learn to endure like this, Simona of the Gsekk?"
As usual, he was disarmingly frank with her. His eyes were twinkling.
"During the winter in Shasht, when I was alone with Thru Gillo."
The Emperor's nod had contained an element of respect that she had not seen before. "This mot, Gillo, he's a remarkable fellow. His latest adventure brought us warning in good time about this threat of the, um, pyluk."
"He is an artist, did you know?"
Aeswiren smiled again. "Yes, the Assenzi told me. He weaves fine mats. His work is held in high esteem, I was told."
"Oh, yes, Lord. I once saw him weave a pattern on an old loom out of old thread he found locked up in a summerhouse."
"Mmm, tell me more."
She did, with the ease of their accepted familiarity, even though he was the Emperor of all Shasht and she was but a young woman of a minor aristocratic family. They spoke the language of the Land and occasionally added Shashti words when their mot vocabulary fell short.
The next day, Aeswiren had her march with him for part of the way. The road was typical for the Land: six feet wide, cobbled in the lower lying areas, and left as gravel elsewhere. It wound around the crags, through undulating terrain covered in juniper, laurel, and dwarf pine.
As usual, the Emperor turned the conversation to his brother, Mentupah, with whom she had spent so many months during the voyage from Shasht. He asked her many questions, and Simona could hear the guilty anguish in his voice. She answered honestly, as Aeswiren had always requested that she do, and spared him nothing.
Later, while they were awaiting tea and some hot biscuits, word came that emissaries from General Toshak had come to see the Emperor.
When they entered the tent, Simona was excited to see Thru Gillo was one of them. The other was the ancient Assenzi Utnapishtim. Aeswiren, alone among his staff, showed no unease in the presence of the Assenzi.
"Greetings, ancient Master," said the Emperor with a smile and hands held out in greeting. "What brings you here?"
"Thank you for your warm welcome, Emperor Aeswiren. I have a message from General Toshak, which should be for your ears alone."
"I see. Come closer." Aeswiren waved to his staff, who withdrew a discreet distance.
Utnapishtim turned to Simona. "And greetings to you, Simona of the Gsekk. It is unusual for a woman of Shasht to march with the army."
"Greetings, Utnapishtim. I march at the Emperor's request, of course."
"Of course. And you know Colonel Gillo, do you not?"
The ancient being's words were lost on her, for she was staring at Thru's face while a train of memories and emotions played in her mind.
She remembered his scars, which could inflame and grow white when he was gripped by excitement. And his eyes, their alien greyness and keen but friendly intelligence. And then there was his fur. That fur, which she had once clutched to herself, naked in a cave.
"Hello, Simona," the mot greeted her.
For a moment, she struggled to speak. "It is so good to see you again, Thru. It has been too long."
They reached out to grasp each other's hands, then became aware of the interest they had inspired in both Utnapishtim and Aeswiren and drew back with bashful smiles.
"I'm sorry, Lord," said Simona.
"No, not at all," Aeswiren replied, beaming. "It is heartwarming to see such friendship. It is what I hope for between our peoples."
Simona wondered what Aeswiren would say if he knew the truth, the whole truth, about her and Thru. "Thank you, Lord." She bowed low to cover her temporary confusion.
She and Thru drew aside while Utnapishtim moved closer to the Emperor to speak of the need to send some of Heuze's ships south to Sulmo.
While the Emperor was engaged, Thru passed on the details to Simona in a quiet voice. "There are four thousand mots waiting, all volunteers."
Simona knew that these mots were overcoming deep-seated fears of men's ships. "After all that has happened, with all the infamy that is associated with those ships, I find it very touching that these mots are prepared to do that."
Thru smiled for a moment. "Well, they might not be prepared to go aboard those ships alone, but a thousand strong and well armed is a different matter."
"I hope they get here in time to help us. Aeswiren's army is not as strong as it once was."
Thru was quick to reassure her. "There will be time. Neither side can afford defeat, and it is to our advantage to hold off from battle. We do not wish to take risks. Our enemy has a problem with feeding his army, and they will go hungry soon. When they are starving, that is when Toshak will strike."
Simona nodded. The great mot general was known for daring moves and bold execution, but she could see the logic in this caution.
Everyone knew what the coming fight represented. If the enemy won, not only would the mots of the Land be exterminated, but the men of Shasht would forever groan beneath the heel of the Old One. Caution was the only sensible policy.
Utnapishtim and the Emperor were still engrossed. A scribe was writing a message for Aeswiren. Another was drawing up a schedule.
"I heard that you were back aboard the Sea Wasp with Mentu."
"Toshak asked me to return to duty."
"How is the ship?"
"As good as ever she was. Mentu is much the same, too."
"And Janbur?"
Thru shrugged. He knew that Janbur had sought to court Simona and had been turned down. "He is quieter. He has lost much, and he feels it. But I think he is happier now."
"And poor Juf?"
"Ah, now there's a happy mot. He drinks no wine or even beer, and he never talks about the life before the men came. But he loves roaming the seas."
"I am so glad to hear that he has found some kind of peace. After he lost his family and everything."
They looked each other in the eye. Aeswiren and Utnapishtim were still in deep discussion.
"And how are you, Thru?"
She saw the weariness plain in his face. After that long winter in which they had lived together in very close quarters, she knew his face so well she could read him just as if he were a man. Living with him for those months, and the voyage on the Sea Wasp that came afterward, had dissolved the line between man and mot for her.
"You know me, Simona. When this is over I will retire to my loom and stay there."
"With dear Nuza." There, she'd said it.
He glanced at Utnapishtim again, then back to her. "We survived, Simona. You and I, who have seen and done so much. Who by rights sh
ould have starved to death in those hills."
"Yes, Thru, and more than that. We have grown wise."
A handclap interrupted them. They looked up to see that Aeswiren had summoned a messenger.
"Take this to Admiral Heuze," the Emperor said.
The messenger hurried away.
Utnapishtim turned to Thru. The Assenzi was clearly satisfied. "I leave for Sulmo on the tide. It has been good to see you once more, Thru Gillo, and you, Simona of the Gsekk."
The huge, ancient eyes seemed to probe them both for a moment. Simona wondered if Utnapishtim had even a glimmering of what had gone on between her and Thru.
"With luck, I will be back with enough reinforcements from Sulmo to ensure our victory over our evil enemy," Utnapishtim said by way of a farewell, and left the tent.
The Emperor wasn't quite finished with Thru Gillo, however. With a smile he called him to his side.
"Colonel Gillo, I have been meaning to ask you about my brother's state of mind, but we have both been too busy. So, if you don't mind, now that we finally have a moment to spare, I will ask after Mentu."
"Yes, Great King, I know your brother."
"Oh, you know him a lot better than I do. All I know about him now is that he hates me, the brother who kept him alive all these years."
"You put him in prison for twenty years. He is bitter about that."
"If I had left him to live in the village as a fisherman, he'd have been kidnapped in the first year. If it wasn't done by someone angling for the throne, it would've been done by our enemy. Mentu looks so much like me, he could be easily passed off as me."
Thru nodded soberly. "Actually, he looks younger than you."
Aeswiren started, then chuckled. Thru Gillo had yet to learn flattery, and for the Emperor it was refreshing.
"Ah, yes, perfectly true, I'm sure. He lived a quiet life in that tower while I fought to keep the Empire in one piece. But, if I had brought him to the city, he would have been seduced by evil men with designs on the throne."
Aeswiren paused a moment, caught Thru's look, and smiled. "I see you are outraged by this idea. Look, I know Mentu is a good fellow. He would have tried to resist, but such men would stop at nothing. There would have been the constant threat of their machinations."
"Yes, Great King, so he has told me himself."
"So he knows I had no choice except to put him away somewhere or have him killed. Heaven knows, many men would not have shrunk from that task, and Mentupah would have been dead these past twenty-three years and more.
"But, even though he knows this, he will not even come to my side to embrace me, his only brother. His Emperor!"
"Lord, he once told me that he didn't know if you would ever let him leave again. 'My brother has a tight grip,' he said. 'Once he has you, he never lets you go.'"
The Emperor sighed. "Mentu is perfectly correct. Being at the center of great power changes everything, including the way one must show love for one's brother. After all is said and done, my brother and I appear to be sundered forever. I could send men to kill him and rid myself of a danger, but I will not. That kind of evil counsel I reject utterly. So, he will stay on that boat of his, and I will leave him to it. He is a good seaman, no question of that."
"Yes, Lord."
"Ach. It breaks my heart. You first met him at that tower I sent him to, I believe."
"Yes, Great King. He saved my skin. I was on the run, and if they'd taken me, I'd have been for it one way or another."
"You must understand that I never bore my brother any ill will. I put him in that tower to keep him alive."
"Lord, I think Mentu fears you more than he hates you."
"Someday," murmured Aeswiren, "I hope I can make my peace with Mentu."
—|—
The following days were filled with tension and rumor. Toshak and Aeswiren continued to hold their position around the Dristen Valley, while four of Heuze's ships were sent south to Sulmo. The weather deteriorated, and for three solid days there was constant rain and driving wind. Movement became difficult, almost impossible, as roads and trails turned to mud.
Finally, when the skies cleared on the third day, it was learned that the enemy fleet had vanished. An immediate search was begun. Heuze sent out his frigates, accompanied by a swarm of native cogs. For a while, the hope was harbored that the enemy fleet had ended up on the rocks, perhaps on the Alberr Isles, whose western approaches were treacherous.
At the same time, precautions against an enemy landing were increased. That night watchfires were lit all along the hilltops north to Nurrum and south to New Tamf.
But no trace of the enemy fleet was found.
All through these days, a keen watch was kept on the movements of the pyluk horde, which had slowly worked its way north into Shellflower. Where the pyluk went, they slaughtered the game or sent it fleeting toward the coast. Behind the tramping columns, the woods were left empty of everything that ran on four legs. Nothing remained but piles of bones beside the ashes of huge bonfires.
Toshak shifted some regiments farther north, over the Dristen, up to the river Shell, and into the Shellflower country itself. The land there was mostly wild—an upland terrain, much carved into hills and crags. The few roads were narrow and wound about the landscape connecting the scattered villages of mots.
Toshak's scouts kept him well informed of the pyluk and their movements, but he did not undertake a campaign against them, not while the whereabouts of the enemy fleet was unknown. Toshak's first priority was to repulse an enemy landing.
Thru Gillo had just returned to Toshak's headquarters after carrying a message to Aeswiren. After tramping the wet roads all day, he had a fine coating of mud from his waist to his boots. Thru sipped hot tea, letting it revive him, while Toshak read the Emperor's reply.
Toshak set the message down. "What's it like over there, Colonel?"
"Wet, sir. Wet right through. Even the Great King's tent leaked last night." Toshak nodded. The rain the previous night had been unrelenting. "But his men don't seem too downhearted. They had fires going, were cooking up a meal while I was there. The Great King was in good spirits. He said he trusts your judgment regarding the conditions."
"Yes, so he says in his message."
"He asked me again if he shouldn't add his scouts to ours."
"I sympathize. I would want my own scouts, too. But in this situation I think it best that we not mingle our forces. Considering all that's gone before, I think it would be unwise to have parties of men moving around on our perimeter. We'd have constant rumors and who knows what else."
"So I told him, sir."
"I'm sure he understands. Anyway, that's the way it's going to be. Our scouts will do the job. He'll get his chance to fight his enemy soon enough, I wager."
"You're sure the enemy will land?"
"He hasn't brought all these pyluk out of the mountains only to sail away now."
Thru nodded. "Yes, of course."
"It's clear he hoped to use them as a surprise weapon. You spoiled that. But they are numerous enough to remain a threat, something to keep us worried. Anyway, all we can do now is keep our eyes open and wait for our enemy's next move. And you, Colonel, you can get some sleep."
Released from duty, Thru found his bedroll and a dry place in the equipment tent and lay down. Regular sleep had become a thing of the past since he'd become the courier of choice between the two armies.
His mud-soaked trousers and jacket were taken away and clean ones left for him by the equipment tent orderlies. One youngster even scraped the mud off his boots and gave them a spit and a polish. Thru knew nothing of any of this. As soon as his body achieved a horizontal position, he was asleep.
In his dreams he returned to the world before the war. A lazy summer day and a long game at the ball field. Iallia was there, and so was Nuza, which was confusing. For a moment, Pern Treevi's hate-filled face filtered past but then it was gone, and Thru was concentrating on hitting the next ball as it
hurtled in toward the tree.
This idyll ended abruptly with a violent shake of his shoulder. Thru struggled to wakefulness and stared around him. The familiar yet unfamiliar surroundings of the equipment tent greeted him, along with a goggle-eyed orderly.
"There is news, sir! General Toshak wants you at once, sir!"
Shaking sleep from his eyes, Thru dressed and made his way to the command post.
"There you are, Gillo. Good. Enemy made his move. A surprise attack this morning on the Great King's fleet at anchor. They've taken six of his ships, and they've also taken the admiral."
Thru sucked in a breath. "Where are they now, sir?"
"Don't know, really. Last report had them sailing back out to sea with their prizes. There's confusion in the rest of the fleet now, possibly a mutiny on one ship. We don't really know yet."
"So, no landing was attempted?"
"None. They looked in at Dronned, but they sailed away again."
Thru nodded at these words. The enemy was canny. He must have studied the first battle of Dronned. He wanted to land on better ground for a fight.
"Please take this message to Aeswiren." Toshak handed him a scroll. "And this one to King Belit. Plus this one to whichever Assenzi you find in residence at Dronned."
Thru was on the road south within a few minutes.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The cold water hit his face, and he came back to wakefulness with a sad groan. He was still in the stocks.
"Wake up, pig!" snarled an all-too-familiar voice.
Heuze blinked and looked up into the circle of Red Tops grinning down at him. Already it seemed as if they'd been torturing him for years.
The one with the big red nose poked him in the head. "Wake up and answer the questions."
Another one, with two front teeth missing, chipped in, "The excellent Muambwi Gold Top will conduct the questioning today."
Today? Had he slept all night? Had there been a night?
Confined belowdecks, Heuze had lost all idea of night and day. All sense of what was going on. He could barely think straight.
Damn, he thought, but he was in up to his neck in the excrement now.
And it was his own fault. That was the worst part. He'd gone to sleep at the tiller of his fleet. He'd never dreamed the enemy would be so daring as to attempt an attack on his anchored fleet, coming out of the mists at dawn. He'd been caught unawares, and before he could effectively respond, there'd been two enemy ships grappled to his sides and the Anvil was swarming with boarders.
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