“Narasan doesn’t explain too many things to me anymore, Longbow. All it does is confuse me.”
“But ten thousand men to build one fort?”
“That might depend on just how big a fort we’re talking about.”
They had beans for supper, of course, but Gunda was sure that he could eat almost anything by then. He put out guards and then fell asleep almost immediately.
2
Longbow had been quite obviously not at all pleased when Commander Narasan designated some ten thousand of his men as “fort-builders.” Andar had privately agreed with the archer, but he chose not to make an issue of it. The more he thought about it, though, the more he realized that the idea might have some merit.
He went looking for Longbow and found him still awake. “I take it that you aren’t too happy with the commander’s generosity, Longbow.”
“I wouldn’t call foisting that many people off on me ‘generosity,’ Andar,” Longbow replied in a sour sort of voice.
“There is something we might want to consider, though,” Andar said.
“Oh?”
“About how wide would you say that the upper end of this pass is?”
“I’d say fifty feet at the most.”
“That would put almost two hundred men to work on every foot of our projected fort, wouldn’t it?”
“I’m not sure that building a fort out of people would be a very good idea, Andar.”
“It might be just a little difficult to feed them if they’re piled up on top of each other,” Andar agreed. “But since we’ve got a surplus of people, we could put the extra ones to work building a second fort a mile or so on down the pass. That way, there’d only be five thousand standing on top of each other in each fort.”
“That’s still going to be badly crowded.”
“If it seems that way when we get up there, we could build even more forts. If we’ve got four solid, well-made forts blocking off the Creatures of the Wasteland, life might start to become very unpleasant for them, wouldn’t you say? We’ll have archers and spear-men standing on top of those forts and Malavi horse-soldiers slashing at them from both sides. I’d say that each fort could cost them a half-million or so of their companions. If we keep on erecting new forts every mile or so, the Vlagh’s likely to run out of warriors before her army even gets halfway down the pass.”
“Maybe sending ten thousand fort-builders up the pass wasn’t such a bad idea after all,” Longbow agreed. “Do you think Gunda will go along with us on this?”
“Not right at first, maybe, but after a day or so of watching his men falling over each other, he’ll probably listen to our suggestion.”
Longbow looked at Andar in a speculative way. “I’ve noticed several times that you’re more clever—and practical—than either Gunda or Padan. Why does Narasan pay so much attention to those two and ignore you?”
“It has to do with our childhood, Longbow,” Andar explained. “We were all children in the army compound in Kaldacin, but we didn’t all live in the same barracks. Narasan, Gunda, and Padan were childhood friends, because they all lived in the same barracks. Brigadier Danal and I lived in a different barracks, so Narasan didn’t know us as well as he knew Gunda and Padan.” Andar smiled briefly. “In a way I’m earning my position while Gunda and Padan get theirs for free. Narasan’s perceptive enough to know that I’m not a dunce. These wars here in the Land of Dhrall have been most useful for me. It’s reached the point that Narasan depends on me almost as much as he depends on Gunda and Padan.” He glanced off to the east. “The sun’s coming up,” he noted, “the real one, I think. Dahlaine’s toy might still be asleep. I think you might want to start out now, and I’ll tell Gunda that it’s time to go. If you step right along, you’ll get farther and farther ahead of him. Gunda should get the point in an hour or so, and he’ll start pushing the men. They like him, so they’ll do as he tells them.”
“They don’t like you as much as they like Gunda, do they?”
Andar shrugged. “Being liked isn’t that important, Longbow. It’s getting the job done that counts.”
The river that had carved out Long-Pass over the extended eons was wider and more gentle than the frothy, tumbling brooks in the more rugged mountain ranges in other parts of the Land of Dhrall. In some ways the river rather closely resembled the streams in the southern region of the Trogite Empire. Andar pulled his mind back from that particular comparison, since it reminded him of the death of Commander Narasan’s gifted young nephew Astal. Narasan had never come right out and admitted it, but Andar was fairly sure that he’d been secretly pleased when word reached him that Gunda and Padan had arranged to have Astal’s murderers assassinated by a number of professional killers.
It seemed to Andar that the river that flowed down through Long-Pass was wider than it should be. The unseasonable warmth caused by Dahlaine’s pet sun appeared to be melting ice and snow farther on up the pass. Had anyone ever told him when he’d still been living in Kaldacin that it might be possible to have a glowing little sun as a house pet, he was quite sure that he’d have had that particular informant sent off to some lunatic establishment.
Longbow, who evidently could get by on very little sleep, roused them before daybreak the following morning. It was bitterly cold, and Gunda saw something that was very rare down in the Empire. Any time somebody spoke, a cloud of steam came out of his mouth to accompany the words. “I thought we were far enough to the south that we wouldn’t blow out steam when we talked,” he said when he and his friends were eating breakfast.
“It happens up in the mountains fairly often,” Longbow said. “It can be quite useful when you’re hunting—or fighting a war. It’s fairly easy to find out just where the animals—or your enemies—are.”
“Do the bugs blow out steam when they talk to each other in the same way that people do?”
Longbow shook his head. “Most bugs don’t talk with words the way we do,” he said. “They talk with touch instead. Most bugs don’t even have voices.”
“They do make noises, Longbow.”
Longbow nodded. “They rub their legs together to make the noises you’ve heard, Gunda, and the noises they make aren’t words. Bugs don’t need words. They all know what they’re supposed to be doing, so they don’t have to talk about it.”
“Were you able to see the Wasteland when you came down that mountain range, Longbow?” Keselo asked their friend.
“Fairly often, yes.”
“Are the bugs moving out there yet?”
“I saw a few—quite a long way out in the Wasteland. I’d say that the ones I saw are probably scouts. The overmind needs to know whether we’re here or not and how many of us there are. The main force is probably quite a way behind the scouts.”
“How far behind you would you say that the Tonthakans, Matans, and Malavi are?”
“Just a few days would be about all. The Malavi would be quite a bit farther south, of course.”
“But you still outran them, didn’t you?”
“Probably,” Longbow replied with a shrug. “Horses get tired after a while.”
“But you don’t, do you? You can run all day long, can’t you?” Keselo’s voice was strangely intense.
“If necessary, yes. You seem to be concerned, Keselo. What’s bothering you so much?”
“There are times, friend Longbow, when I’m not absolutely sure that you’re human.”
“We don’t live the same kind of lives, Keselo,” Longbow replied. “I almost never walk. I run instead. Your body gets used to doing things the way you want it to. I’ve trained my body to run. When you get down to it, walking tires me much more than running does.” He looked off to the east. “It’s almost daylight,” he told them. “You’d better tell your men to get started, Gunda. Days don’t last very long in the wintertime.”
It was about mid-morning that day when they rounded a turn in the pass and came to something that noticeably brightened Gunda’s day. Andar waded a
cross the now-shallow river and rubbed his hand down a weather-worn rock face.
“Well?” Gunda called.
“It’s granite, all right,” Andar called back. “It’s been worn down until it’s quite smooth, but there are cracks here and there, so we should be able to pry quite a bit of it free.”
“You Trogites seem to be very fond of that particular variety of stone,” Omago said.
“It’s the very best that there is,” Gunda replied. “If you want something to last for a long, long time, build it out of granite. It’s heavy and hard, and if you know what you’re doing, you can chip it into blocks. If we have access to granite, and the bug-people aren’t right on top of us when we get to the head of the pass, we’ll be able to build a fort that nobody will be able to get past. A well-built overhang makes it almost impossible to climb up the outer face, and the archers and spearmen will delete ‘almost.’ Give me and my crew about three days, and the bug invasion will stop right there at the head of the pass, and that sort of translates into ‘we just won another war,’ wouldn’t you say?”
“That’s what this is all about,” Omago agreed.
Then Longbow came back down the pass. “Why have we stopped?” he asked Gunda.
“We just came across a sizeable deposit of the best building material in the whole world,” Gunda replied smugly. “Give my men and me a few days and we’ll have an impregnable fort at the head of the pass.”
“We’re talking about that grey rock, aren’t we?”
“That’s it.”
“We might as well move along, then,” Longbow suggested. “Almost all of the rock at the head of the pass is the same as that rock face on the other side of the river. Your men won’t have to come down here and dig up building material. It’s lying all over the ground up at the head of the pass.”
“Let’s move right along, then, Longbow,” Gunda said, concealing a broad grin. “All this shilly-shallying around is just wasting time.”
Longbow gave him a hard look and then he turned around and continued his hike.
“Wasn’t that just a little bit—?” Omago started.
“It’s good for Longbow, friend Omago,” Gunda said. “It’ll take some of the wind out of his sails.”
They made camp for the night as dusk settled down over the pass, and Gunda was quite happy when he came to realize that his legs and back weren’t aching nearly as badly as they’d been the previous evening.
He slept very well that night, and he even woke up before Longbow came around to rouse him. “You’re already up and moving?” the archer said. “What an amazing thing.”
“Don’t beat me over the head with it,” Gunda replied. “When do you think we’ll reach the head of the pass?”
“Late tomorrow,” Longbow said, “or early the following day.” Then he smiled, and that slightly startled Gunda. Longbow almost never smiled. “We have company,” he announced.
“Way out here?” Gunda demanded. “Who’s foolish enough to join us out here in the wilderness?”
“Zelana herself,” Longbow replied. “She has some information for us.”
“Let’s go see what she has to say,” Gunda said, throwing back his blankets.
Zelana was sitting near the riverbank, and she looked rather pensive. Gunda, as always, was more than a little awed by her presence. Lady Zelana was by far the most beautiful woman Gunda had ever seen, and just her presence set him to trembling. He reminded himself over and over that she was not a woman in the usual sense of that word. She was an immortal goddess instead, and she was quite probably at least a million years old.
“Are you all right?” Longbow asked her. “You seem to be a little unhappy about something.”
“It’s nothing important, Longbow,” she replied. “I’m approaching sleep-time, is all. There were many, many things I wanted to do during this cycle, but I seem to be running out of time.” Then she stretched up her arms and yawned. “It’s getting closer,” she said. “My nap seems to be creeping up on me from behind.” Then she straightened. “Let’s get down to business. I rode the wind out over the Wasteland late yesterday to see what the Vlagh is up to. She’s sent out many of her servants to nose around and find out what we’re up to, and I don’t think she likes what they’ve been telling her. She doesn’t really have very many choices this time. Long-Pass here is her only possible invasion route, and I’m sure that she knows that you’re coming up the pass to block her off, and she doesn’t like that one little bit.”
“What a shame,” Longbow said with no hint of a smile.
“It stops being funny right about now, Longbow,” Zelana told him. “After I’d had a look at the Vlagh’s scouts, I drifted farther out into the Wasteland, and from what I saw, I’d say that the Vlagh’s throwing everything she’s got at us this time. There are limitations on just how many eggs she can lay at any one time. She’s supposed to hold enough back to maintain the population of her nest. I’d say that she’s ignoring that this time. From what I was able to see, she has close to five times as many warriors as she’s had during the previous wars, and they’re all coming this way.”
“How long would you say it’s likely to take for her children to reach us up here?” Gunda asked.
“Five or six days anyway.”
“That’s probably all that I’m going to need,” Gunda said. “We’ll have the fort erected and manned before the Vlagh gets here. From what Longbow told me, the head of the pass isn’t very wide, and I’m sure that our fort will be complete before the Vlagh even gets close. Once that fort’s complete and well-manned, the Vlagh can stand out there beating her head against it until next summer, but she won’t get past—no matter how many of her children she sends to attack.”
ALARMING
NEWS
1
It took the better part of two days to get Sorgan’s army ashore, and then Sorgan and Padan rowed over to the Victory to speak with Brigadier Danal.
“That takes care of things here, Danal,” Sorgan told the lean, stubborn officer. “Convey my thanks to Narasan, and tell him that I’ll stay in touch.”
“I’ll do that, Captain,” Danal replied.
“How long would you say it’s going to take you to get the rest of his army down to the mouth of Long-Pass?”
Danal squinted. “The ships will be empty when we go north,” he said, “and that should save us a day. Loading the troops on these ships will take a couple of days, and then four days to the mouth of the pass. Then two more days to unload. I make it to be twelve days to two weeks. Even if the bug-men have reached this side of the Wasteland, the Malavi and those archers from the North will be able to hold them off until Gunda’s got some forts in place.” Then he smiled slightly. “You don’t necessarily have to tell Narasan that I said this, but your little side-trip gave me a wonderful opportunity to avoid all that tedious business of building forts.”
“That’s what friends are for, Danal,” Sorgan said with a grin. “If you happen to meet Lady Zelana up there, tell her that I said hello.”
“I’ll do that, Captain Hook-Beak.”
“Oh, and tell Narasan that I’ll keep the Ascension here. I’m going to need a private place to confer with my men. I don’t want one of Lady Aracia’s fat priests eavesdropping when I’m telling my men what to do.”
“I’m sure he’ll understand, Captain,” Danal replied. “You have a nice war now.”
“I’d hardly call what we’re going to do here a war, Danal. It’s just going to be an imitation.”
“Those are the very best kind,” Danal said.
Sorgan and Padan climbed down the rope ladder to their skiff. “I like that man, Padan,” Sorgan said. “We get along just fine.”
“He’s a very good soldier,” Padan agreed.
They rowed across to the Ascension and joined several Maags in the rear cabin.
“All right, then,” Sorgan said. “The Trogite fleet will sail at first light tomorrow, and they’ll pick up the rest of Narasan�
��s men and take them on down to the mouth of Long-Pass to fight the real war. In the meantime, we’ll get started on the imitation war here. I don’t think Aracia has any people up in that vicinity, but we’ll want to make sure that no word of what’s happening up there reaches her. I don’t think she’d pay much attention to anything that’s not going on here in the vicinity of her temple, but we should probably block off any roads or trails coming down here from up in the Long-Pass region.”
“I’ll send some men up there to take care of that, cousin,” Torl said.
“Good,” Hook-Beak said approvingly.
“Have you worked out a plan yet?” Padan asked the Maag.
Sorgan grinned. “Oh, yes,” he replied. “I’m going to take some men to Aracia’s throne room. I’ll tell her that they’re scouts, and they’ll find out what they can about the upcoming invasion of the bug-people. Then I’ll tell her how dangerous things are going to be for those scouts and make a big issue of how many varieties of invaders we’ll come up against. Then I’ll send the men on their way, and they’ll march out about a mile or so and then set up camp in some fairly well-concealed place.”
“Wouldn’t you say that a mile is just a little too close?” Padan asked.
Sorgan shook his head. “I want them to be close enough to be able to hear the sound of a horn. I’m going to work on Aracia to build up her fright. Then, when she’s filled to the brim with terror, I’ll send word out to the west side of her temple, and one of the men there will toot a horn. When the imitation scouts hear it, they’ll come running back and start piling ‘awful’ all over Aracia and the fat ones who worship her.” He squinted. “Torl,” he said to his cousin, “I’ll send Rabbit out there with you. He’s very clever, and between the two of you, you should be able to come up with stories that’ll send Aracia and her fat priests screaming and searching for safe places to hide. I’d say that you two should put things together so that this nonexistent invasion by the bug-people starts out with moderately awful and then builds up to pure horror. You’ll have several days to work on these stories, so use lots of imagination. Then too, I think you all might want to practice looking frightened. Bulge out your eyes, shiver like crazy, and scream once in a while. The whole idea here is to frighten everybody to the point that they’d sooner die than go outside the temple and have a look for themselves. If we can scare them enough, the notion of going north to pester Narasan will never occur to any of them. They won’t know that Narasan’s there anyway, but I want those priests to be so frightened that they won’t even consider following an order to go anywhere away from this central temple. We’ll use terror instead of bars, but this silly temple will be a prison if we do this right.”
The Younger Gods Page 8