Ghuda said dryly, ‘And they’re probably sending gifts to this Raj, as well.’
Tuka grinned. ‘My master is known as a man to consider all options, Sab.’
Sab was a term Nicholas did recognize, and he knew it meant ‘master’. Nicholas said, ‘So, if we rescue this girl and her companions, we stand to gain from both your master and this Overlord.’
Tuka said, ‘My master, most certainly, Encosi, but the Overlord …?’ He shrugged. ‘He has many wives already.’
Calis said, ‘Attacking will be little problem.’
‘But keeping the girls alive will be,’ said Amos.
Hunkering down in the dirt, Nicholas said, ‘How are they deployed?’
Calis drew with a dagger in the dirt. ‘Four wagons, and they’re pretty confident they’re not going to find trouble, because they’ve made no laager. They’ve only pulled off to the roadside.’ He made four long lines in the soil, representing the wagons. ‘The girls were in the second wagon.’
‘How many men?’
‘Four per wagon, all well armed.’
‘How close can we get?’
‘There’s a lot of tall grass away from the riverside. I think five or six of us could get within a dozen paces of the wagons.’
Nicholas thought. ‘How many can you kill from that distance?’
Calis said, ‘All of them, if I had enough shafts. I could probably bring down three or four before they were aware of what was going on. More if they’re drunk enough.’
Nicholas said, ‘I’m going to circle through the grass with Marcus and a few of the men. I’ll come in from this end while Ghuda will lead another ten or so from this side. The rest will attack along the length of the wagons, and I want you to give the order to attack, Calis. We’ll come when we hear shouts.’
Calis thought a moment, then said, ‘You want me to kill those closest to the women?’
Nicholas said, ‘No telling what they’ll try to do: kill them or use them as hostages. We can overwhelm sixteen of them, but we can’t ensure the women will be safe. That’s your job.’
Calis nodded. ‘I’ll keep the bandits away long enough for you to reach them.’
‘Good.’
Nicholas instructed the men who were selected to attack the bandits. He turned to Anthony and Nakor. ‘Stay here with those who aren’t strong enough to fight, and follow after things get quiet. We may need your skills.’
Anthony said, ‘I’ve found a couple of things here that I can use on wounds.’
Nakor nodded. ‘I’ll wait.’
A half-dozen others were told to wait behind, including Brisa, who seemed not in the least anxious to join the attack.
It took them until almost sundown to reach the point where Ghuda waited. He lay on a rise overlooking the last wagon in the train. When Nicholas came up beside him, he said, ‘They’re pretty drunk already; I think there was a fight a while back over the women. Look.’
Nicholas looked where he indicated, and saw a body lying under one wagon. ‘They’re not gentle about settling disputes, are they?’
‘Indeed,’ said Ghuda. ‘What’s the plan?’
‘I’m taking a bunch around to the far end,’ said Nicholas. ‘Calis will keep the bandits off the girls while we hit them from three sides.’
Ghuda said, ‘Basic, but I can’t think of anything better.’
Nicholas signaled for those not staying with Ghuda to follow him and Calis. Calis took the lead and moved along the back side of a ridge that parelleled the road. When he was opposite the second wagon, he motioned for Nicholas to lead his company to the far end.
Nicholas ran along half-crouched, and when he was at his designated position, he motioned the men to be ready. Everything depended on speed and surprise. If the bandits got organized, fifteen well-armed men fighting in concert would be more than a match for Nicholas’s band.
Suddenly a shout erupted from the men with Calis, and Nicholas was up and running. He didn’t look to see if the others were behind; he assumed they were.
A blur of images greeted him. A man stood up, holding a small cask from which he poured amber liquid down his gullet, and he turned to see Nicholas running at him; he stood blinking in confusion as the attackers came at him, letting the liquor pour down his chin. He finally dropped the cask and pulled his sword, but someone threw a dagger, catching him in the shoulder.
Nicholas dashed past him and killed a man who was turning to see what the noise was. Then another swordsman stood opposite him, and the duel was on.
Nicholas was vaguely aware of the fighting around him, but kept his concentration on the man facing him. He was middle-aged, a veteran, and his attack was basic and direct. Nicholas took only a minute to discern the pattern of his attack and kill him.
Suddenly the fighting was over. Nicholas looked around and realized that his own men had struck a disorganized and drunken band, and that most of the bandits had been killed before they knew they were under attack.
Nicholas saw one of the sailors from Amos’s ship. Grabbing the man, he said, ‘Gather up every weapon you can find, and anything else that might be useful. Make sure no one dumps the bodies in the river.’
He went to the second wagon, where five women, all about his own age, were cowering in terror. Two of them had their clothing torn, and their faces were bruised. Thinking of nothing else to say, Nicholas asked, ‘Are you all right?’
One of the women, wearing fine silk robes, said, ‘We’re not hurt.’ Her wide brown eyes and trembling voice indicated she wasn’t certain if they had been saved or simply had traded in one band of captors for another. Nicholas paused a moment when he was struck by her strikingly beauty.
Shaking himself out of staring at her, Nicholas said, ‘You’re safe now.’
He looked around and found Ghuda. The old mercenary was inspecting the camp. When Nicholas reached him, he said, ‘These were not trained soldiers, Nicholas.’
Nicholas looked around and was forced to agree. ‘They’ve picked one of the least defensible places on the road to camp, and they had no sentries.’
Ghuda scratched his beard. ‘Either they thought there was no one around …’
‘Or they expected reinforcements,’ said Nakor, appearing at Nicholas’s side.
Nicholas said, ‘We’d better get organized and get moving as soon as possible.’
‘Too late,’ said the little man, pointing to the ridge where Ghuda and his company had waited before the charge.
Upon the ridge a line of horsemen watched impassively.
• CHAPTER FIFTEEN •
Discovery
NICHOLAS SIGNALED.
Quickly men ran to places of defense behind the wagons, while others stripped the dead bandits of their swords and bows. Marcus appeared at Nicholas’s side carrying a short bow. ‘Not to my liking,’ Marcus observed, testing the bow’s draw, ‘but it’ll do.’
Tuka said, ‘Jeshandi!’ as he pointed to the dozen men on horseback.
Nicholas said, ‘Are they friends?’
The little man looked clearly worried at the question. ‘There is being a bond of peace upon the Spring Meeting, where all may come and trade. But the meeting ended and we are on their side of the river.’
‘Their side of the river?’ asked Harry, holding a well-used short sword.
Tuka nodded. ‘From Shingazi’s Landing to the north, then westward to where the Serpent River comes near to meeting the Vedra, and from the river to the desert, the grasslands are the home to the Jeshandi. None may pass without their leave. At times their hospitality knows no ending, but at other times they can be little better than brigands. That one who is in front with the red tassels upon the bridle is a Hetman, that being a very important personage.’
Nicholas said, ‘Well, we can wait as long as they can.’
Then another dozen men each appeared on the northern and southern edges of the ridge. Nicholas said, ‘Maybe we can’t wait.’
He climbed up on the wagon and h
eld his sword high, so they might clearly see it. Then he made a show of putting it in the scabbard at his side. Nicholas leaped down from the wagon and said, ‘Ghuda, come with me. Marcus, you and Calis be ready to give us cover if we need to get back here in a hurry.’
Ghuda joined Nicholas and the two of them walked to a point halfway between the wagons and the ridge. Two riders left the others and slowly picked their way down the ridge.
As they neared, Nicholas studied them. Each rider carried a bow and quiver, as well as an assortment of swords and knives. They wore long dark cloaks over tunics and trousers, and on their heads they wore conical hats of indigo or red, some with cloth neck coverings. Their faces were protected against the dust by cloths that left only their eyes exposed.
When they reached Nicholas and Ghuda, they reined in. Nicholas touched his hand to his forehead, his heart, and his stomach in the fashion of the desert men of the Jal-Pur and spoke their formal greeting. ‘Peace be upon you.’
Speaking in the variant of Keshian that seemed the common language in this land, one of the riders said, ‘Your accent is terrible.’ Jumping from his horse, he added, ‘But you have manners.’ He waved his hand. ‘And peace be upon you as well.’ Then he stepped closer and Nicholas saw a pair of vivid blue eyes above the indigo face covering. Pointing to the wagons, he said, ‘What passes here?’
Nicholas told of the raid and their retaking of the wagons. When he was finished he said, ‘We are leaving the lands of the Jeshandi and mean you no disrespect. This caravan was on its way from the Spring Meeting.’ He hoped that he was convincing in his claim that whatever peace bond was in effect at the meeting carried force until those at the meeting had quit Jeshandi territory.
The rider who spoke removed his face covering, and Nicholas saw a young face, dominated by high cheekbones and piercing eyes. Something familiar confronted Nicholas and he suddenly understood.
Turning to the wagons, he said, ‘Calis! You’d better come here.’
As the elfling leaped down from the wagon, Ghuda said, ‘What?’
‘Look at his face,’ said Nicholas.
The rider said, ‘Do you take offense at my face?’ His manner was tense and he seemed ready to settle the issue at a moment’s notice.
‘No, just that we did not expect to meet one of your kind here, under these circumstances.’
The rider’s tone grew clearly belligerent as he leaned forward, stared Nicholas in the eyes, and said, ‘And what do you mean, “one of your kind”?’
Calis reached them in time to hear the last exchange and he spoke. ‘He meant he did not expect to meet one of the edhel here.’
The rider looked puzzled and said, ‘Whatever that word means, I will be addressed by my name and title.’
Calis hid his surprise poorly. ‘Your name and title?’
‘I am Mikola, Hetman of the Zakosha Riders of the Jeshandi.’
Nicholas bowed again, distracting the Hetman from Calis’s confusion. ‘I am Nicholas, captain of this company and enemy to no man who would be my friend.’
‘Well spoken,’ said Mikola with a broad smile. ‘But I care nothing for the concerns of city men.’ He pointed an accusing finger at Nicholas and the smile vanished. ‘What concerns me is who is going to pay me for my goats!’
Nicholas said, ‘Your goats?’
‘Certainly. Did you not see the tattoo in the ears of the mature goats? Did you not recognize my mark? Don’t tell me you didn’t notice as you slaughtered and ate them. And what were you doing so near the edge of the world?’ Not waiting for Nicholas to answer, he said, ‘We shall camp here and discuss many things. But most of all, we shall discuss your payment for our goats.’
He remounted his horse and rode up the rise, shouting orders to his companions.
Ghuda said, ‘What was that all about?’
Nicholas said, ‘He is an elf.’
Ghuda said, ‘I didn’t notice anything, and his ears were hidden. Besides, I’ve never met one before Calis.’
Calis nodded. ‘You may not have met any of my mother’s people, but it is so. He is of the edhel, and more, he doesn’t know what the word means.’ Calis stared after the rider, obvious concern on his face.
After nightfall they were hosted in the tent of Mikola. Calis remained silent through most of the evening. The leader of the Jeshandi might be upset about his goats, but his sense of hospitality was clearly demonstrated by the feast his people provided to the survivors of the wreck of the Raptor.
Tuka came with Nicholas, Harry, Ghuda, Nakor, Marcus, Amos, and Anthony to the Hetman’s tent, which he called a yurt. It was a large circular creation of felted goat’s hair and sheep’s wool stretched over a wooden lattice, and Mikola’s could comfortably seat two dozen people. The interior was hung with standards and pennants of different colors and fashion, red cloth with gold icons, animal hides with beaded work around the edges. The air was heavy with the smell of spices, for an incense burner provided fragrant relief from the more pungent odor of horses and human sweat. It was clear to Nicholas that these people didn’t often have access to water for bathing.
Brisa was told, to her irritation, that women were not permitted in the Hetman’s yurt, save for wives, and then only for his pleasure. She did not make a scene, but her muttering gave clear indication of what she thought. Nicholas noticed Marcus’s smile when he overheard the girl’s foul language; Nicholas was certain his cousin was feeling the same way he was about the girl: glad to see her old spirit returning.
After they had eaten a particularly fine meal, accompanied by some robust wine, Nicholas said, ‘Mikola, your bounty is without measure.’
Mikola smiled slightly, and said, ‘The Laws of Hospitality are inviolate. Now, tell me a thing: I have an ear for accents, and have never heard your like. Where are your people from?’
Nicholas told them of their journey, and Mikola seemed unfazed by their claim to have come across the great sea. ‘There are many tales of such journeys in ancient times.’ Looking directly into Nicholas’s eyes, he said, ‘Which god do you worship?’
Sensing something strained in his tone, Nicholas trod lightly. ‘We revere many gods among our company –’
Nakor interrupted, ‘But above all is Al-maral.’
The Hetman nodded. ‘You are outlanders, so your worship is your own concern, and so long as you take hospitality with the Jeshandi your safety is guaranteed. But know that once you depart these lands, should you ever return you will swear to worship the One True God, of whom all others are but a facet, or forfeit your lives.’
Nicholas nodded and glanced at Nakor. Calis said, ‘What do you know of those ancient tales, Hetman?’
‘We were once of that land from which you come,’ said Mikola. ‘Or so the Book tells us, and in it only the true words of God are written, so it must be so.’ Looking at Calis, he said, ‘There is something else you wish to know?’
Calis nodded. ‘You are kin to my people.’
The Hetman’s eyes widened slightly as he said, ‘You are of the long-lived?’
Calis brushed back his hair, showing his slightly upturned ear. ‘Al-maral be praised,’ said Mikola. In turn, he brushed back his long blond hair and revealed the expected pointed ear. ‘Yet yours is different. How is this so?’
Calis spoke slowly. ‘My mother is of your kind. She is Queen of our people, in Elvandar.’
If Calis expected a reaction to this, there was none forthcoming. Mikola said, ‘Tell me more.’
‘My father is human, though gifted of special magic’
‘In truth, he must be,’ said the Hetman, ‘for in the longest memory of our tribe no union of the long-lived and short has produced offspring.’ He clapped once and a servingman brought a bowl of water. He washed his hands as he said, ‘For this reason, such a union is forbidden among the Jeshandi.’
‘Such unions are not forbidden among my people,’ said Calis, ‘but they are rare and almost always unhappy.’
Mikola said, ‘Are you
short-lived or long?’
With a wry smile, Calis answered, ‘That remains to be seen.’
‘In the Book,’ said Mikola, ‘it is written that the long-lived were wanderers in this land when the faithful came from across the sea. Bitter was the struggle between us until those of the long-lived heard the word of God and embraced the faith; Al-maral is ever merciful. Since then we have lived as one.’
Calis said, ‘That explains much.’
‘The Book explains everything,’ said the Hetman with certainty.
Nicholas looked at Calis, who indicated that he was finished. Nicholas said, ‘Mikola, we cannot begin to thank you for your hospitality.’
‘No thanks are required; it is the giver who should be grateful, for it is written that only in giving may one come to learn generosity.’ Picking his teeth with a long sliver of wood, he said, ‘Now, how do you propose to pay for my goats?’
A round of haggling commenced, and Nicholas knew he was at a disadvantage, because the sale had been made; they were only arguing price. As the night wore on, the quality of the animals continued to rise while Nicholas could do little beyond arguing they were stringy, tough, and lacking flavor. In the end he paid at least three times their worth. If Mikola was curious about the mark of the Kingdom on the gold coins Nicholas gave him, he hid it; he was pleased with the quality and weight of the coins, and that was enough.
Then Nicholas bargained for weapons and stores, and by the time they were done, his entire company was outfitted, he was tired, and it was late. He bid the Hetman good night and returned with his companions to the wagons.
On the way, Nicholas said, ‘Calis, what were you saying about the passage from the Book explaining a lot?’
Calis shrugged. ‘I have always been taught that the edhel, the elves, were one race, with one Queen, my mother, and one home, Elvandar. Before that we were servants of the Valheru. After the Chaos Wars, we split into three distinct groups: the eledhel, my mother’s people; the moredhel, whom you call the Brotherhood of the Dark Path; and the glamredhel, or mad ones.’ Looking over his shoulder a moment, he said, ‘Now I see that there are those of our kin who never knew of our home in Elvandar. Our lore speaks only of those who live on the same continent as your Kingdom. We know nothing of these people.’
Prince of the Blood, the King's Buccaneer Page 77