“Why do we know nothing of these raids in Daksin?” she asked. “Lady Selene seems to have detailed reports of the massed attacks in Briga.”
“Resident Bodil, you will recall that we decided to suspend aerial reconnaissance last year to conserve power,” said Jordis. “Three years ago we destroyed a large force of Chekaliga warriors and the last two years have been very quiet on this side of the border.”
“Jordis, I wish you would collect better intelligence,” said Bodil peevishly. “When I was an Under Resident, I always knew what was going on. If you would just do your job, we wouldn’t find ourselves in such situations.”
BODIL ORDERED A resumption of the aerial reconnaissance over northern Daksin and the Borderlands. They rapidly accumulated intelligence on the tribes’ positions and strength, relaying everything they learned to Vokran and his council. But the more information they gathered, the less sense it seemed to make. The tribes seemed to be everywhere, indiscriminately sacking villages and ranches on both sides of the border. Then perhaps emboldened by their success at the Serat Oasis, they launched an attack on Siggar, a major Daksin city on the Kos, a tributary of the great river Chamb.
“The attack on Siggar has turned into a siege, Resident Bodil,” said Jordis. “We have an airboat on station, and she is transmitting very good video. The attackers number about twenty thousand. Most of them are Ravan Chekaligas, but they are joined by a significant number of Kasar Chekaligas. They make up almost a quarter of their numbers.”
They were in Bodil’s study in the Daksin Residency. It was the beginning of winter, and the breeze blowing in through the open viewport was cool. But it was still mild enough that their temperature shields were switched off. Sampore’s location on the shores of the Warm Sea meant that its temperatures rarely ever reached freezing.
“The Kasar Chekaligas have not raided since their forebears surrendered to the forces of Good Queen Sonia at the Bloodless Victory,” said Bodil, surprised. “Since then they have tended their goats and stayed out of trouble.”
“Well, no longer. They seem to have made common cause with their more aggressive cousins. According to reports from Lady Selene, there were Kasar Chekaligas present at the sacking of the Serat Oasis.”
“The Kasars have themselves been victims of Ravan Chekaliga raiders—they hate the Ravans! We selected Pallian, the Kasar chief ourselves, in part because the Ravan Chekaligas killed his father. Why, you and I took tea with him last year. I cannot believe he has turned into a raider, much less an ally of the Ravan Chekaligas.”
“Be that as it may, ma’am, we cannot allow Siggar to fall,” said Jordis. “We must take action.”
Bodil heard Jordis’s words, but her head was filled with the treatments and therapies she was undergoing to prepare for her Excellence Board. Why must things become so unsettled just when I need to concentrate on myself? she thought.
“I will not act unilaterally, Jordis. Vokran has mobilized two regiments and they will march tomorrow. The Baron of Kaylan has sent an express messenger to Kaylan City. The Kaylan troops will march as soon as they muster.”
“But it will take them weeks to get to Siggar, ma’am,” said Jordis. She strove to be patient, but it was hard. “I have been talking to Seignora Megara. She feels that—”
“We tell the military what to do, Jordis. We do not take orders from them.”
“Ma’am, if Siggar falls without any action on our part, we will have failed to meet our responsibilities under the Treaty of Wolf’s Head. If the Daksin barons believe that we will not protect them, they will begin to question the value of the Zon alliance.”
Bodil’s brow knitted. Jordis’s words finally got through to her. Retirement was inevitable, but it would be so much worse to end her successful, if rather staid career with a disaster.
“Summon Seignora Megara,” she said.
Jordis hid her relief and opened a comm channel to Megara. A few minutes later, she entered and saluted, hand on heart.
“Under Resident Jordis tells me that she has been discussing the situation in Siggar with you,” Bodil said without preamble.
“Yes, Resident Bodil,” said Megara. “The video indicates that they are using tactics unlike anything we have seen from the hill tribes before. In the past they almost always fought in the open field or attacked small villages and forts. They used the mobility and speed of their light cavalry to outflank and destroy forces that were sent against them. They never attacked powerful fixed defenses, and they never settled into sieges. However, at Siggar we have seen them using siege engines—catapults, rams, ladders, and wheeled towers.”
“What has brought on this change?”
“We do not know, ma’am. But there are many things we must find out before we commit major forces to battle. Among other things, we need to discover what has happened to Pallian, the Kasar Chekaliga chief that you installed.”
Bodil nodded.
Just then, Jordis’s wrist bracer pinged, indicating an incoming comm channel. Megara stood to take her leave and give Bodil and Jordis privacy. Jordis opened the comm channel, listened for a moment and then made an urgent motion with her hands, indicating that Megara should stay.
“Wait a minute, seignora, while I will project a hologram,” Jordis said. “I am with Resident Bodil and Seignora Megara of the Palace Guardians.” She tapped her wrist bracer again and projected the hologram onto the center of the study.
A seignora in the uniform of the Pentheselia Legion appeared in the shimmering hologram. She was in the cockpit of an airboat.
“I am over Siggar, Resident Bodil,” she said after saluting hand on heart. “Last night was calm, our monitoring equipment picked up only small movements and the situation appeared stable. However, the Chekaligas have just launched a major attack, and resistance has completed crumbled! There was almost no one to repel the attackers coming up the siege ladders and out of the siege towers. They are sacking the town now as I speak to you.”
Bodil looked at Jordis accusingly.
“Jordis, I cannot depend on you for anything! I thought you said that we could depend on the Baron of Siggar.”
“I don’t understand it, Resident Bodil,” said Jordis. “Baron Tuvaran of Siggar is a solid, dependable soldier.”
“Is there any evidence of the tribesmen using advanced weaponry, seignora?” asked Megara.
“I am not sure what you mean. I said that they are using siege equipment—”
“I mean advanced technology. Have your monitors picked up any evidence of ’grators or laser pistols? And signs of gunpowder?”
“Why, that is impossible, Seignora Megara. The barbarians do not have—”
“Have you already forgotten the Great Insurrection, seignora? That is how the Ostracis Citadel fell and how the Aurora Citadel came very close to falling.”
“We have no evidence of anything like that Seignora Megara.”
“Very well.”
Bodil addressed the Pentheselia seignora in the hologram.
“Take the airboat up to at least five thousand meters. Maintain your monitoring. Stay on station until you are relieved as planned.”
Bodil nodded to Jordis and she cut the comm channel.
“Jordis, call Vokran and set up a meeting with him and his council,” Bodil said as soon as the hologram faded. “They need to know this.”
“I suggest we have a squadron armed with ready crews, Resident Bodil,” said Megara. “Then if the Chekaligas march into the open on their way to Kaylan City or here, we can inflict heavy losses on them from the air.”
“Make it so, Seignora Megara,” said Bodil.
THE AIRBOAT FLEW at its normal cruising altitude of twenty thousand meters and the weather was good, so the flight was silky smooth. However, the hold was pitch dark, and Asgara was afraid that she would be found if she used her light stick. It was only minimally heated and she hugged herself in an effort to keep warm. A bigger problem was that the pressurization in the hold was significantly
less than in the cabin and she had to work hard to keep alert and conscious in the thin air.
The landing approach was very steep and she clung to the restraining cables on the crates to avoid being flung forward. Once the airboat leveled off, the engines powered down and it was silent for some time. Then the cargo hatch was opened and light flooded into the hold. She shrank back against the bulkhead as she heard boots on the ladder. Crates were unlashed and raised to the deck on power hoists. As more crates were removed, she slid back toward the corner of the hold, hiding behind those that remained. But as the unloading proceeded, it laid open more and more of the hold. Then to her relief it stopped.
“We’ll take a short break,” she heard a voice say. “Let’s get some katsch and then finish the unloading.”
Asgara waited till it was completely silent before pulling herself up the ladder and peeking over the edge of the cargo hatch. The airboat was empty, so she pulled herself on to the deck. She was worried that if they kept unloading the hold they would find her, so she thought she had to find a new hiding place. However, the deck and cockpit offered no places of concealment.
The rear hatch was wide open, and outside she could see a very bright blue sky. She walked out on to the hatch and found that the airboat was about thirty meters above the Tirut Guild fort rocking gently on sky anchors. She looked down and saw that there were hundreds of people in strange garb milling about in the fort, dealing with a few dozen Zon traders watched by a handful of heavily armed huntresses.
There was a winch on the rear hatch with cables running down to a platform resting on the ground in the fort. Asgara hit the retract button and the winch whined, smoothly pulling the platform up. It automatically stopped when it was level with the airboat rear hatch. She stepped on to the platform and hit the deploy button and held on to one of the cables as it began to descend. The platform had been raised and lowered many times already, so it attracted no notice. Once on the ground, she found herself anonymous in the sea of mainly barbarian adults. Some were no taller than her.
She hoped they would take on some cargo in which she could stowaway to get to her final destination of the Daksin Residency. But her immediate concern was to eat: she was growing quite faint with hunger and a bit dizzy to boot. The flight in the thin air of the hold had not helped matters. She was about to reach into her pack and pull out an energy bar when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked around to see the thigh boots of a huntress’s uniform.
“Who are you and what are you doing here? Show me your Guild fort pass.”
Asgara did not look up and show her face, but bolted immediately. The huntress grabbed her pack, but Asgara shrugged out of the shoulder straps and left her holding it. She ran for the open gates of the Guild fort, dodging around barbarian traders. The huntress pursued her, calling to her colleagues at the gates. However, Asgara was small and lithe and managed to evade them. The huntresses stayed at the gates and did not pursue her outside into the barbarian crowd.
She found herself on a dusty, open space a few hundred meters across, between the walls of the Guild fort and the city walls of Tirut. There were even more barbarians here, crowding around stalls selling lower-quality merchandise than what was on offer in the Guild fort. They were more poorly dressed and fed than those in the fort. She spent a few minutes wandering around the stalls, but none of them were selling food.
Both the walls of the Guild fort and the Tirut city walls ran right to the sea. In between them was a small pebbly beach. There was a large gate in the city walls facing the Guild fort gate, guarded by liveried men-at-arms in shining chainmail and gleaming helmets. She thought she might be able to get some food in the Tirut, free from the risk of being apprehended by the huntresses. So she walked through the gates into the barbarian city. Hungry and tired, she walked almost a kilometer in a bit of a daze. She was soon walking past docks and saw dozens of strange barbarian ships with tall masts being loaded and unloaded. Brassily painted women, displaying plenty of cleavage and leg called out to every passing man. Raucous laughter spilled out of dockside taverns.
Everything was so new and different to her that Asgara would normally have been observing everything, soaking it all in. But now she was so famished and exhausted that she was not thinking very clearly, and little of what she saw registered. Then she saw what she was looking for—a small square with a cluster of stalls selling fruits, vegetables, bread, cheese, and other edibles. Across from the stalls was an imposing inn with a roped-off patio.
Asgara stumbled up to the first stall. It was piled high with all manner of fruit and was fronted by a big-bellied man hawking his wares loudly in Brigish. She was studying Brigish in one of her gifted classes, and while she was still not fluent, she could speak it well enough.
“Please, sir,” she said, picking up an apple. “I am very hungry and hope that you will not mind my taking this. I am on my way to see my mother and will get her to pay you in a few days.”
She turned away and was about to take a bite of the fruit when she felt him grab her collar and spin her around. He retrieved the apple with practiced ease but did not release her.
“Now here’s a new one,” the fruit vendor called out to his fellow stallholders. “She’s coming back with her mother in a few days to pay!”
A small crowd quickly gathered. Asgara’s dress and shift were stained with grass and blood from her dive from the speeder, as well as oil from the hangar trash bin. Grease and oil streaked her face and dimmed the brightness of her ash-blonde hair. Both her knees and elbows were caked with mud and blood. To the gathering Tirutans, she looked very like every other beggar girl in the streets, though her pale skin suggested she was from the north.
“Give her something to take to her mother, Joban!” called one of the other stallholders.
In response, the fruit vendor drew back his meaty fist and hit Asgara hard. She staggered away under the vicious blow and fell in the dirt of the street.
“I’ve had it with you young thieves!” he snarled, walking up to her prone form. “Here’s something to think about the next time you want to steal!” With that he drew back his boot and kicked her heavily.
Asgara had never been physically chastised in her life, and in her current state, the shock of the beating almost caused her to pass out. However, she held on to her consciousness and dimly saw one of the other stallholders start toward her.
“Just to make sure you remember,” he said loudly, and kicked her as well, driving her face into the mud.
She painfully crawled away, causing her knees and elbows to bleed anew. She got to the wall of the inn and rested her back against it. The crowd sensed the end of the excitement and began to drift away. The stallholders lost interest in her and went back to hawking their wares. No one paid her any further attention.
She sobbed quietly to herself for a while, but then wiped her eyes, creating more streaks of oil and mud across her face. Just when she was gathering the courage to stand up, a hand appeared before her with an apple in it. She shrank back, expecting to be hit again, but nothing happened. She looked up and saw a thin, balding man in brocaded robes, leaning down and offering her the apple.
“Take it,” he said in a kindly tone. “I saw how that wicked fruit vendor treated you. I know that you must be hungry, and it is only right that those of us who can afford it should feed you.”
Asgara looked into his dark brown eyes. He did not meet her steady gaze but blinked and looked away quickly. Her emotional acuity caused warning bells to go off in her head, but she was faint with hunger and ignored them. She took the apple and began to eat it hurriedly before he changed his mind. As she was eating, he sat down on the ground beside her. She felt him pet her hair and then her cheek as she ate the fruit.
“You are a beautiful child,” he whispered. “Such pretty hair, such smooth skin.”
Asgara kept eating as fast as she could. She was almost done with the apple when he put his hand under the blouse of her shift and began car
essing her flat chest and stomach. She dropped the apple core and twisted away from him, saying, “I thank you for your kindness, sir, but I must return to my friends.”
“Oh no,” he said. “We have only just begun. One apple will not sate your appetite. I have something here for you to drink.”
He produced a bottle of clear fluid and attempted to give it to her. When she did not take it, he held one of her thighs tightly and attempted to put it to her lips. As she struggled to free herself, his grip moved up her thigh.
“If you scream, the fruit vendor and his friends will come and beat you again,” he whispered in her ear. “You had best come with me. We will make each other very, very happy.”
“No!” she whispered desperately, as she continued to struggle. “Let me go! Please sir, I am good girl! I am sure that I cannot make you happy.”
However, she did not scream, as she was afraid of attracting the vendors and being beaten again. Then she felt his fingers touch her underclothes.
GREGHAR HAD JUST completed his inspection of his room in the suite at the Three Feathers Inn, when there was a knock on his door. Thinking it was Nitya, who was lodged in the next room, he called, “Come in! The door’s open.” But when he turned to the door, it was Kitara. She shut the door behind her and walked over to him, swinging her hips. She wore a colorful gown of Tirutan cami-silk with a hip-high slit and a matching scarf that she draped over her hair and around her throat so that it covered her bosom.
She unwound her scarf as she crossed the room and tossed it on the bed, revealing a neckline that plunged so low that it drew his unwilling eyes to it like iron filings to a magnet. She put her arms around him and pressed herself against him. Her gown was so thin and she held him so tight that she felt naked in his arms.
The Eclipse of the Zon - First Tremors (The New Eartha Chronicles Book 2) Page 23