Aracia’s eyes went wide and she stood up. “Let’s go look, Captain Hook-Beak,” she said.
“Now, that’s more like it,” Sorgan said approvingly.
“It’s called a catapult, lady,” Sorgan explained. “The Trogs invented it. Up north in your brother’s Domain, it worked out quite well. It was originally invented to throw rocks at the enemy, but we used it to throw burning pitch at the bug-people. If you want to get somebody’s—or something’s—immediate attention, set him on fire.”
“I see that you’re still putting sharp stakes in the ground,” Aracia noted.
Sorgan nodded. “We’ve got gallons and gallons of the venom we leeched out of dead bugs down in Zelana’s Domain. We dip the stakes in that venom before we plant them in the ground. When a bug-man steps on one of those, he dies almost immediately. It’s a quick way to get rid of a lot of enemies.”
“Is that as high as you’re going to make your fort, Sorgan?” Aracia asked.
“No, ma’am, that’s just the base. There’ll be another ten feet on top of that part of the fort.”
“Ho, Cap’n,” one of the Maags shouted. “I think the scouts are coming back, but it looks to me like they’re being chased by bug-people.”
Sorgan swore. “I told those idiots to be careful!” he exclaimed. Then he took Aracia by the arm. “Let’s get up on top of the fort. It’ll be safer there.”
Aracia’s face had gone pale, and her eyes seemed filled with terror.
“Over that way, Cap’n,” Padan said in a fair imitation of the Maag dialect. “There’s a ladder a short way down along the wall. Once we get up on top, I’ll kick the ladder away.”
“That’s not a bad idea, Black-Beard,” Sorgan agreed.
“Black-Beard?” Padan muttered.
“Sorry,” Sorgan said softly. “You’ve got to have a Maag kind of name, and that was about the best I could come up with.”
They reached the ladder and scrambled on up. “Leave the ladder where it is for now, Black-Beard,” Sorgan said. “If one of our scouts gets clear of the bug-people, we want him up here. I need to know just exactly what happened out there.”
“Aye, Cap’n,” Padan replied.
“Shouldn’t I return to the main temple?” Aracia asked.
Sorgan shook his head. “It’s not safe now, Lady Aracia,” he said. “My men and I can protect you up here on this wall, but those narrow corridors wouldn’t be safe.” Then he looked out toward the west. “There!” he said, pointing at a berm no more than a hundred feet away. “My men are doing something right for a change. They took some high ground and it looks to me like they’re holding it. There are probably a lot of dead bugs on the far side.”
“Isn’t that Rabbit with the others?” Padan asked.
“That’s Rabbit, all right,” Sorgan agreed. “He’s got that bow he made down in Veltan country.”
“I didn’t know that he had a bow,” Padan said.
“He spent too much time with Longbow,” Sorgan declared.
“Now that’s the one I’d like to see out there,” Padan said. “If there’s only one Longbow and a thousand bug-men, put your money on Longbow. He’ll kill every one of them.”
“Our men are holding that berm,” Sorgan said. “The bug-people aren’t going to get past them.”
“Those bug-things aren’t very big, are they?” Aracia said then.
“You don’t really see very many big ones, Your Majesty,” Padan said. “Now and then the Vlagh will make a big one, but most of them are what Rabbit calls ‘teenie-weenies.’”
“The little rascal just came down off that berm,” Sorgan said, “and he’s running this way.”
“He probably wants to report, Cap’n,” Padan suggested. “You made a big issue of that when you sent them out to scout around. You told them all to stay alive so that they could tell you things that you needed to know.”
The little smith came scrambling up the ladder and then stood there puffing. “We hit a snag out there, Cap’n,” he wheezed.
“Catch your breath before you report, Rabbit,” Sorgan said.
“Aye, Cap’n,” the little smith said. Then he stood breathing deeply for a few moments. “Things went real good for a while, Cap’n,” he started again. “Just about the only breed of bugs we saw were those little ones, but when we started back, Torl caught a few glimpses of great big ones. I ain’t exaggerating one little bit, Cap’n. They stood almost ten feet tall, and they probably weighed close to a ton.”
“You’re not serious!” Sorgan exclaimed.
“I’m afraid I am, Cap’n. This wall our people made here just won’t work. If those big ones are as strong as the others, they’ll smash down your fort here with their bare hands and then throw the bits and pieces out into the Wasteland just to get rid of them.”
“You’d better round up the men, Black-Beard,” Sorgan said to Padan. “This wall here’s going to have to be at least twice as high and three times as thick if it’s going to hold off the giant bug-people.” Then he took Aracia’s arm again. “There’s not much you or your people are going to be able to do to help us. Right now I’d say that blocking off most of the corridors your people included when they built the temple would be the best thing to do. You don’t really want more than one hallway leading there.”
3
The men out on the berm continued to shout and to roll large rocks down the empty far side to make it appear that there were still enemies charging their position. Queen Aracia stayed very close to Sorgan, but she seemed to be growing more and more calm. “The bug-people are truly hideous, aren’t they, Captain Hook-Beak?” she asked.
“Oh, yes. The first time I ever saw one of them was right after Eleria’s flood had come rushing down the ravine to almost swamp the village of Lattash. That flood drowned bug-people by the hundreds, and their bodies were washed on down to the village. That was when my men and I found out that those little bug-people had snake fangs and they were deadly. I almost gave your sister’s gold back to her and sailed on back home at that point.”
“You were actually afraid? I didn’t think you knew the meaning of the word ‘afraid.’”
“I wasn’t quite ready for snake-bugs—or maybe bug-snakes—at that time. It took a while for me to get used to the notion. I have Longbow to thank for that. There’s a man who isn’t afraid of anything.”
“I know,” Aracia said. “I spoke with him a few times when I was observing the war in Veltan’s Domain. Is he really as good as everybody says he is?”
“Better, probably,” Sorgan replied. “If your sister had been lucky enough to have ten men like Longbow, she wouldn’t have needed me.” Sorgan shaded his eyes and peered down at the ridge lying to the west of the fort. “My men aren’t rolling rocks or throwing spears anymore, and that sort of says that they’ve managed to kill all of the bug-people who’d been pursuing them.”
“It’s safe for me to return to the main temple, then?” Aracia asked.
“Let’s hold off until morning, lady,” Sorgan said. “Let’s not take any unnecessary chances.” Then he looked questioningly at his employer. “Would it offend you if I had something to eat?” he asked her.
“Not in the slightest, Captain,” she replied. “I think I’ll nibble on the sunset while you have supper.”
“I’m never going to get used to that,” Sorgan said. “How can anybody live on nothing but light?”
“It’s one of our advantages,” Aracia replied. “We don’t need food, and we don’t need sleep—not during our ordinary cycle, anyway. It’s almost sleep-time now, though. I can feel it creeping up on me. I wish it would wait, though. I’ve got a lot of things that need to be taken care of, and I don’t think I’ve got enough time.”
“If it’s all right with you, Lady Aracia, we’ll wait until the sun’s up tomorrow morning before we go back to your main temple. Let’s be sure that there aren’t any bug-people hiding in the corridors there.”
“Whatever you think bes
t, Captain Hook-Beak.”
Padan felt a bit puzzled. It seemed to him that once Queen Aracia had been separated from her priesthood, she was almost normal. She also seemed to be developing a certain attachment to Sorgan Hook-Beak. The Maag’s roughshod approach seemed to be bringing Aracia right to the brink of normalcy.
The dawn came, and Sorgan, along with Ox, Ham-Hand, Padan, and Rabbit, accompanied Aracia to her throne room. They paused briefly at the door while Aracia listened. When she heard what was being said on the other side, her eyes narrowed and her face went bleak. “Absolute scoundrels,” she said. “Why was I ever foolish enough to believe anything they told me?”
“We all make mistakes, lady,” Sorgan said rather placatingly.
“Well, I’ve made more than enough,” Aracia said. Then she looked Sorgan right in the face. “I’m paying you to defend me, mighty Sorgan,” she said. “You may earn some of that pay right here and now. I don’t want any of those priests to come within ten feet of me.”
“I think we can handle that, yes,” Sorgan said. “I take it that you’re planning to hurt their feelings just a bit.”
“Watch,” she replied. “Watch and learn.” Then she literally slammed the throne room door open.
“Clear the way!” Sorgan bellowed. “Stand aside or die!” And he drew his sword.
It seemed to Padan that Sorgan might have taken it just a bit farther than necessary, but he drew his own sword to back Sorgan up. Then the party marched across the throne room in Aracia’s wake.
“Great was our concern for you, most holy Aracia,” Bersla of the big belly declared.
“But not quite great enough to move you to come looking for me, I noticed,” Aracia replied.
“But—”
“Close your mouth!” Aracia snapped. Then she looked at Sorgan. “If he says anything else, kill him!” she ordered.
“It will be my pleasure, most holy,” Sorgan replied with a florid bow that seemed to Padan to be totally out of character.
Aracia’s face grew hard and cold. “Much have I considered the merits—or the lack of merit—of those here in this room today,” she declared. “I have seen greed, cowardice, indolence, o’erwhelming self-esteem, and a total lack of anything at all that even remotely resembles honor. That, however, is about to change. Hear my command, my worshipers, and obey me—lest ye die.”
“She definitely has a way with words, doesn’t she?” Padan whispered to Sorgan.
“She’s getting their attention, that’s for sure,” Sorgan replied, concealing his smile with one hand.
“Moreover,” Aracia continued, “those who do not obey, and escape their rightful punishment will no longer be priests and therefore no longer welcome in my temple. Hear my command and obey without question. Gather together and proceed straight forth to that part of my holy temple which lies to the west. There will you—one and all—give assistance to those who have come here to defend me. You will do what they require without hesitation or complaint, and you will continue your labor until our defenses are complete.” Then she motioned to Sorgan. “I’m not really very good at this, am I?” she said with some shame.
“You’re doing just fine, lady,” Sorgan replied. “You even surprised me just now.”
“I must have done something right then. Now, what do you think I should do to any of these halfwits who refuse?”
“I’ve had a fair degree of success with a whip, lady,” Sorgan replied. “Fifty lashes is usually about right. Then, after the others have seen a few of those floggings, I usually don’t get any more arguments.”
“I’m not sure if I could do something like that, Captain Hook-Beak.”
“That’s what you’re paying me to do, lady. I’ll take care of it for you.” Then he turned to his second mate. “Herd them on out of here, Ham-Hand,” he said.
“Aye, Cap’n,” Ham-Hand replied.
Padan suddenly laughed when a peculiar thought came to him.
“What’s so funny?” Sorgan asked.
“Since those priests will be working with our men, they should probably eat the same kind of food.”
“Beans?” Sorgan asked.
“It would be fair, Sorgan, wouldn’t you say?”
Sorgan started to laugh.
THE
HORSE-SOLDIERS
1
Prince Ekial of the Land of the Malavi had been just a bit edgy about the presence of Lord Dahlaine’s pet sun. She was giving them all the light they needed, and she was holding back the bitter chill of winter there in the far north, but the concept of using a miniature sun as a house-pet made Ekial just a bit nervous. The “What ifs” kept nagging at him.
He’d spent some time with Longbow in Dahlaine’s “map room” carefully studying Dahlaine’s miniature duplication of the rounded-down range of mountains Longbow had decided would be the best course to follow on their way on down to the upper end of Long-Pass. Ekial hadn’t made a big issue of it, but he was rather looking forward to being separated from the Trogites and the Maags. They’d been very useful during the war in Crystal Gorge, but their superior attitude had rubbed Ekial the wrong way on several occasions, so he felt a certain relief when the mountain range became visible on the eastern horizon.
Longbow’s friend, Red-Beard, pulled his horse, Seven, in alongside Ekial. “How’s our day gone so far?” he asked.
“Mine just got a bit better,” Ekial replied. “Now we’ve reached the mountains, we’ll be moving off in a different direction from the Trogites and the pirates. That will probably warm my heart. Don’t get me wrong, Red-Beard, I like them, but they move so slow. I could have been here three days ago.”
“That’s one of the nice things about riding a horse,” Red-Beard agreed. “Old Seven here doesn’t move very fast, but he could run circles around those foot-soldiers. Of course, he won’t have to run for a while. I get to sit here until Skell delivers the archers from Chief Old-Bear’s tribe. Then Seven and I’ll guide them on down to the upper end of Long-Pass.”
“Longbow told me that the archers of that tribe are the best in the whole world,” Ekial said.
Red-Beard smiled. “Every tribe believes that they’re the best,” he said. “Longbow himself is the best in the world, but the others in his tribe aren’t nearly as good as he is.” Red-Beard hesitated slightly. “You don’t necessarily have to tell him that I said that he’s the best,” he added. “He doesn’t need to know that I believe that.”
Ekial laughed. “Your secret’s safe with me, friend Red-Beard,” he said. Then he added, “Doesn’t he ever smile?”
“Oh—once or twice a year, I’d say. Every so often he’ll even smile three times if it’s a very good year.”
Longbow would be going on ahead, so getting the Tonthakans and Matans to the west end of Long-Pass would be Ekial’s responsibility.
Longbow asked him if he had the route firmly in mind.
“I spent as much time looking at Dahlaine’s map as you did, Longbow,” Ekial replied. “Won’t it be just a little dangerous for you to travel alone, though? The bug-people will be coming this way. That much is certain. I could send a party of horsemen with you.”
Longbow shook his head. “They’d only slow me down,” he replied.
“You don’t really believe that you can run faster than a horse, do you?” Ekial demanded.
“Not faster,” Longbow replied. “Longer beats faster almost any time at all.”
“How long would you say that you can run?”
“Twenty hours or so, anyway, and I can eat while I’m running.”
“That raises another problem, friend Longbow,” Red-Beard said. “Horses are nice enough, I suppose, but they do have to eat, and I don’t see very much grass around here.”
“I was just about to ask you the same question,” Ekial told the archer. “We have to find grass.”
Longbow shrugged. “Tell your men to keep their eyes out for bison. They eat grass just like your horses do. When you see a bison with hi
s head down, he’s probably eating. Chase him away and you’ll have happy horses in just a little while. Is there anything else?”
“Is it always this cold around here in the wintertime?”
“The local people have told me that it is. Be glad that it’s cold now, though. If it starts to warm up, there’s probably a blizzard coming your way.”
“I’ve heard the locals talking about blizzards a few times,” Ekial said. “Are they really all that bad?”
“You might want to talk with Two-Hands about that. He was caught in one near the village of Asmie when he was very young. He had to dig a cave in the snow to survive.”
Ekial shuddered, and decided not to pursue that. “Let’s move on, shall we?” he suggested.
Since Dahlaine’s little toy sun would be going with the Maags and Trogites, there wasn’t too much daylight left, so they set up camp for the night before they’d gone very far to the south. Ekial was fairly sure that they should start out at first light each day. The horses could cover a fair distance in six or seven hours, but the Tonthakans and Matans couldn’t move that fast, and to make things even worse, the Malavi were going to have to find grass for their horses every day, and that promised to slow things down to a crawl.
Longbow had set off the following morning.
“What’s your hurry, Longbow?” Ekial asked.
“When I reach the upper end of Long-Pass, I’ll need to go on down to the mouth so that I can guide the Trogites back up to the most likely places for them to build their forts.”
“You’re going to wear out your shoes, Longbow. That’s about four hundred miles, you know,” Ekial remarked.
Longbow shrugged. “Whatever it takes.”
Ekial, somewhat regretfully, sent his friend Ariga and a sizeable number of other horse-soldiers off to the south to scout the eastern edge of the Wasteland to determine if the bug-people were anywhere in sight yet. He’d have much preferred to lead that scouting party himself, but he was fairly sure that wouldn’t sit too well with Kathlak and Two-Hands. It was tedious—even boring—to plod along with the foot-soldiers, but it was sort of necessary.
The Younger Gods Page 10