"He did not bat an eye," the princess replied. "He is a dull, stolid youth. Perhaps he did not understand the wonders of technology."
The Wisdom glanced at Teodorq and smiled. "I would not underestimate the barbarians and savages."
Sun was almost completely set when the Wisdom took the brass tube to the western parapet and directed it toward the yellow glare. He adjusted it for a bit while Teodorq contemplated how the device might aid a long hunter. Then the old man beckoned with his fingers. "Come, come. You may need to turn this—yes, this ring—to make the image clear. Tell me what you see."
Teodorq bent to the look-glass and squinted through it. The limb of Sun was but a sliver, golden red at day's end. The Sperm was just touching the edge of it. At this time of year, it was emerging from Sun, not delving into her, and so it was more properly called the Newborn by purists among the Elders.
The dull, red disk had the seeming of a coal plucked from the brazier. Small curlicues of white light flashed and twisted across its face or sparkled in the surrounding dark matter. It reminded Teodorq of a nest of rattlesnakes.
"Them look like the comets that the gods sometimes send," he told the Wisdom. "Only smaller."
"Say rather, 'more distant.'"
"That where comets come from? Or did the Sperm gather its comets while it was inside Sun?"
The laughter of the princess was like the cry of a hawk, but the Wisdom spoke more kindly. "No, young man, for when we observe the Red Sun in its easting it has the same appearance. And it does not enter Sun. Sun moves in front of it, being on a smaller orb. Our ancients called the Red Sun 'oort- eater' and 'comet-thrower,' though we don't know what they meant by 'oort.' What I would like to know is how, since your people do not have look-glasses, you knew of its resemblance to an egg invested by sperm."
But the question baffled Teodorq. One knew because it was part of the Lore passed on by the elders as they chanted the Great Lays from the elik skins they kept.
"Uncle, you cannot expect a savage like this boy to know such things." The princess again spoke in yashiq. Teodorq pretended not to understand.
"The great mystery," the Wisdom said in plavver, bending once more to the far-seeing tube, "is why the Red Sun should cast shadows and warm Little Winter nights while the other wanderers do not. Some Wisdoms say that it is a second sun, only dimmer and farther off; but that violates the principle of parsimony: Do not multiply entities without necessity. Why should there be a second sun?"
Teodorq shrugged. "Spare parts?"
A Sweep of the Ridge
Yar Yoodavig took the legion on an extended reconnaissance across Woody Ridge into the Nobeshtinny Valley. He split the legion into three squadrons, each under a subyar, a title that sounded to Teodorq suspiciously like his own Commonwealth rank of subadar. Each column rode horses of a distinct color and each had "bannermen" who kept saddlebags of colored flags with which to signal the others.
The yar was savvy enough to assign Kal to the southern squad and keep Teodorq with him in the northern squad. Teo and his clan enemy had reached an uneasy truce following their single combat, and the First had forbade further fighting; but Teo trusted Kal only as far as he could throw him. Which, granted, was pretty far, since he knew some wrassling moves; but still... Sammi, the hillman who had trekked with him since they had discovered the Shuttle together, was assigned to the central squadron. Of the other new men in the legion, the yar kept Hidaq Upperbrook also with him and placed P. Z. Emersavig, a swamper, in the central column.
Because they had farther to travel to reach their jump-off point, the southern squadron, mounted on blacks, set off at dawn, followed by the greys at the third hour. When the sun was high, the yar signaled to the sorrels and they set off at a trot, following upstream a winding creek of ice-cold water. A rutted road ran beside the creek for a while, but it soon veered and overleapt the creek by means of a wooden plank bridge guarded by an outpost of men-at-arms.
Yar Yoodavig paused to ask the subyar of the post whether anything remarkable had happened since the previous sweep. On the other side of the bridge, a similar outpost stood under the banner of a moose. These men, Yar Yoodavig saluted in a polite fashion, a courtesy that the moose-men returned.
"This stream," the yar instructed the new men, "marks the boundary between the fodanny of House Tiger and that of House Losse. There are seven houses that have come off the thoogu to take the lowlands for the Little Father."
Teodorq believed that they had been driven off the plateau for backing the loser in a high-level feud, but like all who write their own history, the ironmen had written a better one than their ancestors had lived. Yet it seemed to him that where seven had gone, others might follow, and harsh times lay ahead for the kraals of the shortgrass.
They came to a village clustered at the base of a knoll atop which stood a tower made partly of stone with stout timbers above. This far from the cliffs, stone blocks were more difficult to come by, but a diversion of the creek waters encircled the holdfast and offered some protection from attackers. The yar consulted with the vagyah of the village and the keeper of the holdfast, who was a cousin of the First. From the tower the legion's bannerman wagged a series of colored flags toward the south, where another stronghold could be spied on a low rise. The bannerman watched through a look-glass and must have been satisfied with what he saw, for the yar told them that the next day they would climb Woody Ridge and enter Nobeshtinny Valley. Nobeshtinny simply meant "unknown" in the yashiq, but as it had been scouted now for two generations what the name meant and what it signified had parted company. The scattered homesteads east of the ridge were technically outside the kospathin's protection. The legion swept the valley mainly to keep an eye on the forestmen.
An hour after sunrise they approached a gap in the ridge anciently worn by the creek they had been following. But the squad turned east cross-country and the yar explained to Teodorq and Hidaq that there was no passage on the Tiger side of the water gap.
A large contingent of mounted men accompanying two wagons and an ornate carriage issued from the Gap flying the banners of House Losse. Instead of the white-and-black striped jerkins worn by the legion, these men were garbed in brown-and-red checkers. The captain of the vanguard waved an arm. "Yo, pussycats!" But did not rein in his canter.
The overcaptain of the train pulled aside and came to the edge of the stream. "That you, Yar Yoodavig? What hail?"
"All quiet, moosehead. Any action east of the Gap?"
"None we saw. Our nazalenig Mamu is bound for Tiger Keep to meet his betrothed." His gesture indicated the gilt carriage now passing behind him.
"The honor guard ought to be waiting at Woodbridge by the time you get there," Yoodavig told him. "Good luck."
With that the two troops parted company and the legion took the trail up the western face of the ridge to a small wind gap scoured by the hot breath of Tarakimuri who gave World its west winds. Teodorq kneed his mount to ride beside the yar.
"The seven houses are allies, ain't they?"
"Aye. They call themselves the Seven Brothers."
"Then why can't we use the Moose Road through the Water Gap?"
"Said we were allies. Didn't say we trusted each other." The yar looked over his shoulder, back down the trail, toward Cliffside Keep. "I sure hope Mamu's acne has cleared up."
"Why's that?"
"The princess gets to say 'no.'"
The squadron pitched camp at the base of one of the ridge-top watchtowers and the yar allowed Teodorq to satisfy his curiosity by climbing above the treetops and using the look-glass to watch the flag waving at the next tower south. But when he asked if he could wag hello to Sammi, the yar was not amused.
Teodorq had intended to ask how they sent messages during the night, but he saw a rack of lanterns with globes of colored glass and immediately deduced the answer.
The eastern slope was more gradual and so the descent was easier than the zigzag trail they had taken to the top. Nobeshtinny V
alley was a broad, green bowl thick with woodlands and punctuated here and there by natural and manmade clearings. That much Teodorq could see from the vantage of the ridge, but as they approached the valley floor the forest canopy closed in above them and sight distance shrank to a few dozen paces in every direction. Beyond that, the world was shrouded by brush and the thick, gnarled trunks of ancient trees. In those shadowed recesses, who knew what demons might lurk? Teodorq, who had lived all his life on the open prairie, found the experience unnerving and, although the legion had sometimes practiced within the hunting preserve where he and Sammi had been captured, he was still not accustomed to so many trees around him. The hunting preserve had been cleared of underbrush and was more open and lighted than this primeval forest. The trees soared high overhead and unseen animals made ominous chatter.
As they trooped through the forest, the yar taught Teodorq and Hidaq the proper spacing of men so as to widen the area scouted without losing track of one another. "Don't matter if you can see everyone, long as you can see the man on your left and your right." And again, he told them, "Sound carries in the forest. It echoes off the trees and comes at you from every direction, so it's hard to know where it's coming from. That half-stump there!" He pointed off to the fore. "An enemy armsman!"
Hidaq drew his sword; Teodorq pulled his knife.
"You!" said the yar, "What does your pal call you? Stupid prairieman. What you going to do with a puny knife? Pick your teeth?"
"Kill the enemy," Teodorq motioned toward the trunk, and his knife thunked deep into the stump. "Trees are too close to swing a sword."
The yar smiled. "Maybe not so stupid, then."
Teodorq fetched his knife and when everyone was remounted, the yar told off parties of three to check on known clearings and campsites. He kept Teodorq and his bannerman with him and assigned Hidaq to ride with his senior subyar. "Maintain eyecast distance," he told the others. "Watch for outlaw bands. Bosh, be sure to look into Noracky's Cave. We'll rejoin at Weaver's Fast." This was a fortified homestead that served as a refuge for the freeholders in the northern valley against bandits and war parties from the Eastwood. Weaver had gone off into the wilderness to live free of his labor-obligations to the kospathin. Teodorq did not understand why the First bothered to extend his protection to a man who had actively shunned it. But then he did not understand how one man could claim the labor of another in the first place.
They set off at a walk, following a game trail through the forest. The yar took the lead but kept Teodorq at his side. As they picked their way through the brush, the yar pointed out various trees, shrubs, and herbs and briefed Teodorq on their properties. This tree's bark, when chewed, lessened a headache. That fern, properly mashed, made a good poultice for wounds. Those leaves, when brewed, made a tasty tea. Now and then, he would instruct Teodorq to locate the squads on their left or right and signal that they were seen.
"Easy to get lost in here," he cautioned. "We lost two men a double-summer ago. Do you know why I'm here and not with the central squadron, where I can keep tabs direct on both wings?"
Teodorq was not sure why he was being asked such things. It was obvious that the yar was with the northern squadron because that was where Teodorq was, and the opportunity to be involved in heroic deeds was always greater in the company of the son of Nagarajan.
They walked their horses through the forest for a few minutes in silence before Teodorq said, "You're senior officer. The northern column might meet up with moosehead patrols—which we actually done—and that needs more... my word is vinèsh, it means not skill, but fine skill... needs more vinèsh than dealing with outlaws and stuff."
The yar grunted and glanced over his shoulder at his bannerman, who nodded. "Kid's sharp."
"Wisdom told me to keep an eye on you," the yar said. "I'm starting to see why."
The squad emerged from the forest onto cleared ground littered with the stubble of harvested crops. But the unharvested autumn fields on the far side of the Fast had been trampled. Directly in the center of the clearance, atop a swell of land, a wooden stockade enclosed several buildings. Teodorq thought the walls appeared lopsided.
"How come there's only three towers?" he asked.
The yar, who had frowned on seeing the trampled crops, cursed and snatched his looking-tube, with which he studied the Fast. "Esetéfin!" he called to the bannerman. "Ready 'Possible hostile action, Weaver's Fast. Relay. Relay.' Teodorq, find a vantage point and check the far side of the stockade. Signal with your bullroarer if there's trouble."
Teodorq dug heels into the stallion's flanks and galloped across the open fields, to a hillock he had marked. He quickly found an angle from which he could see the eastern wall of the stockade. The great, thick timbers there were snapped and broken as if struck by a giant's fist, and the fourth tower had collapsed in ruin. Teodorq could make out a dozen men and boys lying in the wreckage. Some of them seemed to be forest men, but from all he had heard, the forest men could not have done this destruction.
He whipped the bullroarer around his head and shortly the bannerman's staff flew up with colored pennons snapping along its length. Far off to the south an answering flutter wagged back and forth. That would be the central squadron and Teodorq supposed they would relay word to the southern squadron.
The other scouting parties had emerged from the edge of the forest by then and the yar set lookouts at key points while he and his bannerman investigated the ruins. Shortly afterward the central column under Atglen subyar arrived at the canter. While the officers consulted, Sammi slid off his horse and came up to Teodorq rubbing his butt.
"Sammi not for horsing around. Hillman walks, climbs, springs from ambush. Give me good mountain pony any day." He scanned the ruins of the fastness and pursed his lips. "What did that?"
"A giant, I'm thinking," Teodorq told him. "They say the greenies swell up to twice their size and fight with fire and thunder."
Sammi pursed his lips and thought about that. He crossed his arms. "You going to say it?"
Teodorq shook his head slowly. "That can't be good."
When the southern column arrived, Yar Yoodavig organized a second sweep toward the eastern forest on the far side of the Valley. They quickly found the tracks of the raiding party on a southeast bearing. Footmen, for the most part, although Teodorq noted a handful of horses and wheeled vehicles among them.
"Five horses," Teodorq said confidently, and Kal backed him. "All shod, but the prints differ."
"Carts two-wheeled," said Sammi, noting that the ruts did not overlay one another as would those of a four-wheeled wagon.
"Hard to say how many footmen," Teodorq concluded. "They trampled over one another's prints. Then on the grass in front of the Fast, they spread out in three lines. Them carts—I make two of 'em—was set up there in the middle."
The Yar detached a squad of foresters to trail the departing raiding party and get some idea of their strength. "Stay concealed," he told them. "If you strike open ground, hang back. Make maps, 'cause we ain't got none for the Eastwood. Two days tops, then turn back."
The foresters wore green jerkins with sprigs of brush in their caps. Belepo subyar acknowledged the instructions, spoke briefly but in detail to his men, and they melted on foot into the trees, followed at a distance by those leading the remuda.
Teodorq, Sammi, and Kal returned to Cliffside with the main body by way of Middle Gap, which was broader and less overhung by trees. Kal was not unhappy to do so. "Don't like forests," he said on the way back. "All them trees all close up like that? Like being in a box." He shivered. "A man wants open spaces."
Teodorq felt the same way but was not about to admit it to a Serp. "Can't stay a-feared of the dark forever," he said, using the irontalk. Kal understood half of it, but didn't like the half he did.
"Don't push your luck, Rabbit," he growled.
A Draw of the Bow
When the legion reached Cliffside, they found all in turmoil. Servants and villagers went about
with hangdog looks, trying to avoid notice. Raised voices emanated from the Keep. The legion went into barracks and Yar Yoodavig gathered his subyars to make his report. "Maybe I'll report to the Wisdom," he mused, listening to one extended series of shouts. "It sounds like the kospathin is busy."
It did not take long for the skinny to reach the barracks. The princess had called Mamu "zit-face" and spurned his suit. Even though it was her right by long custom, the moosehead prince and his escort had thought the marriage a done deal and had departed in great consternation.
"Good," said Sammi o' th' Eagles when he heard of this. "Sammi still in running."
Two days later, a pigeon arrived from the foresters. They had easily followed the attacking force through the woods, since they had made no attempt at concealment. But after two days the scouts had not reached the far side of the Eastwood and had returned per orders. Wherever the greenies came from was past the forest lands.
Without saying a word to each other, both Teodorq and Kal began to fashion bows. These were the bows of the Great Grass: compound-curved laminates of wood, horn, and sinew. They could feather a man from a greater distance than the crossbows of the ironmen.
When they were ready, Kal and Teo held a demo that attracted many of the legionnaires as well as several of the kettleheads from the Keep. The Wisdom and Lady Anya also attended.
Yar Yoodavig sent one of his bannermen galloping across the Great Meadow with the target. "Tell me when it's far enough." He held a bullroarer at the ready.
Teodorq, stringing his bow, nodded without speaking. Kal raised his head, glanced at the receding bannerman, and spit on the ground. "Let ya know," he said.
Teodorq tested the draw and selected an arrow. Kal said, "Ya think?"
"'Bout now," said Teo, who had still not looked up.
The yar whipped the bullroarer around his head. The bannerman heard the buzz and thrust the target into the ground, turning it so it faced the bowmen. It was a traditional black human silhouette. Kal grunted. "Guess they wanna make it easy."
Analog Science Fiction and Fact - July-Agust 2014 Page 2