In Green's Jungles tbotss-2

by Gene Wolfe

  He nodded again while he chewed his bread and swallowed. "He did not say so, he merely imprisoned me. But that would have been the upshot. You fear that I am a spy."

  "I have to consider the possibility."

  "Good man," Oreb remarked conversationally. "Fish eggs?" Sfido held out what was left of the slice, and Oreb swooped to snatch it from his fingers.

  "What do your arts say, Rajan? Wouldn't they reveal it if I were?"

  "I have none," I told him, "and I'm getting weary of saying so. I doubt that you're a spy, but I can't be absolutely certain that you're not."

  "Then keep me with you, under your eye. I've seen men my father's age with slug guns here. Women, even. Couldn't you use a good officer?"

  I admitted I could.

  "As a mercenary colonel," he spooned up soup that looked too hot to swallow, and swallowed it, "I will be entitled to five times the pay of one of your private troopers. I'm going to ask you for much more than that, but you won't have to give it to me until the war's over."

  I waited, watching him eat.

  "My house and my lands. Our Duko will confiscate them. He probably has already. I'll drill your troops and fight for you as long as this war continues, on your promise to restore them to me when Soldo surrenders."

  It was my turn to raise my eyebrows. "Nothing more, Colonel Sfido?"

  "Such loot as may fall my way, and that's all." He grinned, white teeth flashing in his dark beard. "I've lost everything, Rajan. All that I worked and fought for here. It didn't seem like a lot when I had it, but I find that it was riches beyond counting now that it's gone. I had a house in town and three farms. May I rely upon you to deal with me as honorably as you are with your other mercenaries?"

  I nodded, and we clasped hands.

  "I need sleep. If I can't stay here-"

  "Urbanita will take you," Volanta volunteered, pointing. "Right next door. I'll go over and talk to her about it, if you want me to."

  I said, "Please do."

  "I'll tell her Incanto said so," Volanta added as she bustled out.

  "She'll be getting the poor woman out of bed, I'm afraid," I remarked to Sfido.

  He grinned, and spooned up more soup. "Everyone must make sacrifices in war, Rajan. Can you get us troops from your town, by the way?"

  "From Gaon, you mean? It's not my home, though I guided its people for a while. I suppose I probably could, but I won't."

  "Because you don't think we need them."

  I shook my head. "We do, and badly. Because they don't need us. I could ask them to come here and risk their lives, and I believe that at least a few might come willingly; but one in ten or one in twenty would be killed, and many more wounded. Killed and wounded for what? For my thanks when the war was over?"

  "When that woman comes back, I'm going to let her take me next door and sleep." Sfido was buttering another slice of bread. "When I wake up, I want to look over the defenses of this town of yours, if you'll let me."

  I said I would, but that this was not my town either-that it was Inclito's, if anyone's.

  "After that, I'll tell you what we ought to do. You probably think the town's well fortified already, and it may be. Just the same, there's always something more that can be done."

  I myself must go to bed now. It is very late. Good night, Nettle. A good night to all of you.

  16

  A Young Man from the South

  When we had gained the jungle at last, and the mercenaries had seen our human dead scattered all along the sewer and crushed in the streaming jaws of huge and deadly river-beasts, I called them together. "Once I tried to destroy the City of the Inhumi," I told them. "I had fewer than a hundred men, braggarts and cowards for the most part, untrained, badly disciplined, and worse armed. I dreamed then of leading troopers like you against it, and I am going to do it now."

  To my surprise, they cheered.

  "I'm not going to try to tell you how to fight. You and your officers know far more about that than I. But Lieutenant Valico and I will fight beside you, and help you however we can.

  "Fava, if you'd like to leave us and warn the City, this is the time."

  "I'm no inhuma! Look at me!"

  "As you wish," I told her, and turned back to Kupus's troopers. "The inhumi have human slaves, as you have seen. Don't kill them unless they resist you."

  Several nodded.

  "When the last inhumu is dead," I promised them, "we'll go home."

  Fava, Valico, and I went with Kupus and the other mercenary officers when they reconnoitered the city. "We'll have to fight from building to building," Kupus told me. "It will be an ugly business. Are you in a hurry?"

  I shook my head.

  "Then I suggest we wait till morning. We're going to need all the daylight we can get for this, and it will be an all-day job."

  "Or more," Zepter added gloomily.

  I protested that I had no food to give them, and was told that the men carried emergency rations, which Fava, Valico and I might share.

  Not even in the pit have I spent a more nightmarish night. You may say if you like that I did not spend that one at all, that I was in fact hugging Fava's icy corpse under the arching canes of the snow-laden thornbushes; but I recall every moment of it, and find that I still cannot write about it without a shudder. After the rest had laid themselves down to sleep, I went around our impromptu camp warning everyone about the insects. (They are not like the insects of the Long Sun Whorl or the somewhat different insects here that are so often blind; but I know not what else to call them.) I had hardly begun when I was stung by one of the scarlet-and-yellow creatures that we called firesnakes – a flying worm, like a little viper with a scorpion's tail.

  Thereafter I spoke to one small group after another, and it seemed to me that there was always another waiting, and sleepers, too, whom I had not yet warned and could not warn without waking. And I went from sleeper to sleeper, examining their faces as I had so many years ago in the tunnel, always looking for His Cognizance and always hoping-although I knew how absurd it was-that I would find Silk, that Silk had left Hyacinth and would be going with us after all, that Silk had rejoined us when I was inattentive, talking to Scleroderma and Shrike, and lagging behind the slowest walkers to talk to His Cognizance, whom I sought without finding on that nightmare night under the cloud-capped trees that outreach all our towers, so that at last I called out softly "Silk? Silk?" as I walked among the sleepers until Oreb grasped my hand with fingers that were in fact feathers, repeating, "Here Silk. Good Silk," and I took my own advice and found the numbing fruit, cut one in two with the gold-chased black blade of the sword that I had imagined for myself and pressed a half against the sting on my arm, weeping.

  But none of that is to the point, except for being a part of the story I have set myself to tell, my own long story of the tangled paths by which I failed to find the hero Marrow and the others sent me to find.

  What is to the point is the way in which the mercenaries attacked and cleared the buildings of the City of the Inhumi the next day, working in pairs or in paired groups, so that one group occupied the inhumi with their fire while the other advanced to a place from which it could fire more effectively. We have been teaching that to our troopers, Sfido and I, for the past two days-along with much else, and drill, and some marksmanship, although we are too short of cartridges to spare many for that.

  I should say, too, that scarcely a day has passed on which we have not received a request for food and ammunition, blankets and clothing from Inclito, a request delivered by some weary officer or sergeant who has brought back mules insufficient to carry the eighteen or twenty or thirty loads of whatever it is that he has been sent to get, but who knows just as we do that it does not matter since we have not half as much as his letter asks us to give him. troopers for pack animals and food," Sfido told me when we met "You can spend some of that money you raised to pay Kupus's today.

  I told him I already had-nearly all of the true cards I had worried
so much about earlier-and asked why he said it.

  "Because the dead need not be paid. This fellow" (by which he meant Rimando, who had carried Inclito's most recent letter) "won't admit I'm right, but I am. So are you, Incanto. There may have been two hundred mercenaries with Kupus once and a hundred or more hired separately, but there aren't nearly that many left alive by now. When Olmo falls-"

  "Olmo has fallen," Rimando told us.

  "Then it won't be long."

  I held out Inclito's letter. "That's what the general says, too. Do you want to read it?"

  "Later."

  I dropped the letter on Volanta's table. "This is Captain Rimando. He was my chief subordinate when this wretched war began, and the general has sent him back to us to help us prepare the town to stand a siege."

  Rimando nodded affirmation.

  "He and I have been discussing tactics, and I've called you in, as our best tactician, to get your advice. You were in the hills for several days after you escaped from prison in Soldo?"

  Sfido nodded, and seeing Rimando's curious glance said, "Nothing daring, Captain. I was a rich man once, and I bribed my jailer."

  "Show him the map, sir," Rimando suggested.

  I did, turning Inclito's letter over to reveal the crude diagram that Rimando and I had sketched on the back. "While you're looking at that, Colonel, I want to ask you about Eco again. Are you quite sure you didn't see him while they had you locked up?"

  "I wasn't there very long, and I didn't see many of the other prisoners, as I told you that first night.

  He may have been there." Sfido stroked his little mustache thoughtfully. "I have no way of knowing."

  "Tall and strong," Rimando said. "Quite dark. He smiled a lot, or at least he did when we rode out to the general's farm. Clean shaven, about my age."

  I explained that Rimando had been the other messenger who was to ride with Eco, but that Inclito's daughter Mora had taken his horse, and asked Sfido about her as well.

  He shook his head. "There weren't any girls or women in there at all, as far as I know. Or anyway the jailer said there weren't.…"

  Seeing the change in his expression, I said, "You've thought of something. What is it?"

  "He said there had been one just before I came but she and her lover had escaped. He wanted more silver for my own escape because of it."

  Rimando turned to me. "I don't understand."

  Sfido said, "The Duko had been furious. Another escape would cause a lot of trouble, or at least he seemed to think it would."

  "Had they bribed their jailer too?" I asked.

  He shrugged. "I don't know. I don't think so."

  Rimando asked, "Did he describe the man?"

  "No, he didn't tell me anything much about either one of them, except that the woman had gotten out of her cell somehow and let her lover out. She was a big, strong woman, he said, as big and strong as a man." Sfido turned the diagram so that I could read it more easily.

  "Now about this map." He pointed to the series of thin rectangles that Rimando had drawn at my direction. "These are our troops?"

  "The old men and the women," I told him. "The boys in reserve, back here."

  "And this double line is the road south? Your town is somewhere down here?"

  Rimando nodded.

  "You want my opinion of this?"

  "No," I told him. "Not yet. We want you to tell us how Duko Rigoglio and General Morello will attack it."

  "Pah!" Sfido looked disgusted. "This's child's play. The left flank, here, is against the river. But there's no support for the right at all. This space is what? Fields? Farms?"

  "Yes."

  "Morello will engage the front with his infantry." He glanced at Rimando. "Do you know the term, Captain? It means troopers on foot."

  Rimando colored, reminding me again of how very young he was. "Certainly."

  "Incanto did not, until I told him. They will shoot at us and we will shoot at them. They will advance and retreat, if we let them. Meanwhile the cavalry will make a wide circle here," he traced it with his forefinger, "and attack from behind and the flank, then chase us back to this town of yours. If we take the best horses, we three may escape them." Sfido shrugged again. "Some of the boys may, too. The boys run very well."

  He slapped our map down on the table. "You asked me how the Horde of Soldo would attack those positions, Incanto, and I've told you. Now you have to ask me what I think of them, before I explode."

  I nodded and smiled. "You know how highly I value your opinion, Colonel."

  "They're childish. I don't criticize you, Incanto, because you're not a trooper. But," Sfido leveled his finger at Rimando, "if you're a captain, it's no wonder-"

  "I told him!" Rimando burst out. "I said it was insane. It's exactly what the general said we were not to do."

  I explained what I planned then, and thanked Rimando for the pack mules and mule drivers he had brought us, which we needed so badly to carry our cloth and rope, and the fireworks, and explained that we would have to scour the nearby farms tomorrow for oxen to pull the guns, and women and children to drive the oxen.

  I have no more time to write.

  * * *

  It has been a very long day, but I must write something. I sent Oreb out tonight to look for the enemy, and he has just come back: "Men come! Bad men!"

  Which I knew, of course. I have been trying to find out whether he thinks they will be here before morning. He says, "Come slow," and "Sun come. Men come."

  In Green's jungles we were surprised more than once by the inhumi and their human slaves. This time I have taken steps to prevent surprise, posting little groups to the north as far as the first hills. We have no horsemen worthy of the name, but our northernmost lookout-I do not remember what Adatta called her-has a little boat, with oars and a small sail, moored where the river leaves the hills. I don't know whether she can get back to us in it before the first Soldese troopers reach us; but Adatta says she will kill herself trying, and Adatta I find a good judge of other women.

  Our ditches are dug, for the most part. The women have sewn thousands of sacks for the soil, and most of our walls were half built this evening, or so they appeared to me. If the Outsider will, as I have devoutly prayed, grant us just a few hours of daylight tomorrow before the enemy's advance guard comes into view, we may be, if not ready, nearly ready at least. The walls are scarcely shoulder high, but they are thick enough to stop a slug everywhere. I have tried to recall the one over which I clambered on Gold Street so long ago and tell our people how it looked; but that was a better wall than any of ours, I am afraid.

  I am still far from certain about the pigs, but Atteno is enthusiastic. He has ten or twelve pairs, savage old boars for the most part.

  * * *

  Inclito's wounded are coming back, hundreds where we used to see a dozen or two. A few who cannot walk are in panniers, one carried on each side of a mule. The effect on our troopers is very bad-on the women, particularly. They look from face to face for their brothers and husbands, weeping, often, although they have seen neither.

  One group of walking wounded was escorting eight Soldese prisoners. Their hands had been tied behind them so tightly that the skin looked like a dead man's flesh. I ordered them cut free and found a little boiled barley for them, and some wine, although we are nearly at the point of eating Atteno's boars. They told me how they had looted Olmo, and burned it afterward. The burning was on their Duko's orders, they say. They are confident of a victory that will free them within a day or two; I do not believe it will be the victory they expect, but wish I were as sure of it as they are.

  The last of the big guns has arrived. We hid it in a haystack just now, and are roasting the oxen that brought it. Everyone says how good they are and urges me to eat; but I know that it is only hunger that lends those roast oxen their savor, and I am too tightly strung for that. How long has it been since I have slept more than an hour at a stretch? Three days, I believe? I am all right as long as I keep
moving, but sitting like this and trying to write, I can do nothing but yawn.

  * * *

  Wonderful news! It has begun to snow!

  I lay down-for only a minute or two, I told myself-and slept until late this morning. No one woke me. When I got up there was two fingers of snow on the ground. Now there must be four or five.

  Sfido and Rimando have performed wonders while I slept. The walls are all complete, and our troopers are building themselves huts from the remaining sacks of soil and whatever else they can lay hands on.

  But the snow is the best, except that it has slacked off our trip ropes. I have set a few reliable men to retightening them. The fireworks are stacked in the solaria of this farmhouse to keep them dry; the chief danger now is that we may not get them out and into position in time.

  The old woman who lives here brought me an apple and a mug of sweet cider. Apples and cider are about all she has left, she says; our troopers have taken her chickens, ducks, and geese. Her husband is dead, her sons in the hills with Inclito. She said she felt sorry for me, but I feel sorrier for her. I've told Uscita I want as good a supper as she can find me tonight, and I intend to share it with my hostess.

  We are seeing unwounded troopers now. So many have thrown their slug guns away that I sent a party up the road to salvage what they can. I got a group of about twenty of these beaten men together this afternoon and talked with them for nearly an hour, then asked them to stay with us voluntarily and defend their town. Not a hand went up. Inclito would have had half of them swearing they would fight to the death, I'm sure; but I am a poor speaker.

  It is interesting to walk up the rutted, snow-covered road a few chains and approach our defenses as the enemy will. Our walls do not appear very formidable, and the ditches in front of them (which are filling with snow) can easily be overlooked. I have been telling our troopers that the enemy will be here tomorrow afternoon, speaking as though I knew it. "In a day," I tell them, "it will be over." It is always a matter of hanging on for one more day, after all.