Demontech: Onslaught

by David Sherman

  There was no discussion, no one gasped in surprise, no one argued; it was what they all suspected. They set about quietly preparing the evening meal.

  They still had a haunch of deer. Spinner and Fletcher sliced it into thin pieces that would cook quickly. The women went to the brook to wash the tubers Zweepee found and to get water for tea. Haft made the cook fire. Fire making was a chore the women normally did, while the men prepared whatever game they had for the evening’s meal. But fires give smoke, and they didn’t want to give away their presence. But Haft could make fire in the Ewsarcan way, so it burned very hot and gave off little smoke. The strips of venison were ready to be spitted by the time the fire was going. The tubers went directly into the fire and weren’t completely cooked by the time the party began to eat, but nobody complained.

  The brook was the first water they’d found that was more than a rivulet. “I have to bathe myself and my clothes,” Alyline announced as soon as they finished with their dinner.

  “We all do,” Spinner said.

  “Shall we take turns, or bathe all at once?” Haft asked in as innocent a voice as he could. He risked a quick, lowered-eyelid glance at the women as he did.

  “The men stand guard while the women bathe,” Spinner said without a smile. “Then one man bathes while the other two stand watch.”

  Fletcher nodded.

  Spinner stationed Fletcher in the forest behind their campsite to guard against anyone coming from their rear. He and Haft crossed the brook to guard from the front.

  Spinner led Haft thirty paces upstream and thirty more into the trees. “This is a good place,” he said.

  Haft looked back; he couldn’t see the brook from there. “We’re too deep, we should be closer to the brook.”

  “Why?”

  “Because—Because someone might come along the brook and we won’t be able to see them from here.”

  Spinner chuckled. “And you can’t watch the women bathe from here either.”

  Haft flushed.

  “If you can’t see, then you have to listen harder. You’ll be able to hear if any horsemen come along the brook. And if you don’t hear them in time, the women’s screams will let you know of their coming.” He put a hand on his friend’s shoulder and squeezed. “I haven’t seen a naked woman for as long as you. We can wait until better circumstances.”

  “What about that night at the inn?” Haft accused.

  Now Spinner flushed. “Well . . . that was different,” he said weakly. And it didn’t change the fact that they had to allow the women their privacy. He went back to the stream and down it the same distance below the campsite before heading into the trees.

  The Golden Girl removed the girdle before entering the water, where she completely submerged herself. When she emerged, she quickly stripped off her soaked clothing and put it on a flat rock by the side of the brook. She scrubbed her skin with sand from the bed of the brook, then pounded her clothes on the rock. Zweepee did the same, and the two women shared the flat rock. They scrubbed each other’s backs. They didn’t shout or speak much above a whisper but otherwise they splashed and played like children, enjoying themselves as they cleaned.

  Doli went primly apart from the other two before stepping into the water. She didn’t stand up to remove her wet clothes, but stayed down, submerged to her shoulders, and tried to remain covered by the water when she tossed her clothes onto a rock half in and half out of the brook on its far side. She moved gently hither and yon, letting the rushing water carry off the trail dirt from her skin. Then she rubbed herself all over with the palms of her hands without using sand. When she finally stood and stepped out of the brook, she was a couple of paces from the rock where her clothes lay—very near where Spinner had left the brook’s side to enter the forest. She glanced quickly upstream, and when she saw neither Alyline nor Zweepee looking her way, took a few tentative steps under the trees, water dripping off her bare skin. She peered intently into the shadows but saw no sign of Spinner, not even his footprints. She gnawed on her lower lip. The still air made her shiver.

  “Spinner,” she called out softly. “Spinner,” she called again when the forest gave her no answer. She crouched and wrapped her arms around her chest, with her hands on her shoulders. She felt horribly exposed even though she was certain no one could see her. A tree dweller’s sudden chittering startled her. She imagined Jokapcul soldiers or slavers to be hidden where she couldn’t see them, spying on her, ready to lunge forward and take her. She wondered if they had silently come upon Spinner and slain him.

  “Spinner?” she said tentatively. When still no answer came, she stepped back a pace, then another pace and another, and only stopped retreating when her feet were in the water. She looked upstream; the other women still didn’t seem to be looking in her direction. She thought they must be paying her little enough attention that they didn’t know what she had just done. She nibbled on her lip for a moment, then stood erect. The sun still shined and its rays brought a warmth that removed the gloom and cold she had felt under the trees.

  Feeling better, she turned to clean her clothes. At all times, whether she knelt next to or hunched over the rock, she posed herself artfully. She knew she had a good body, a body men liked to look at. Perhaps Spinner was where he could see her at her laundry. If he was, she wanted him to see her as comely, not as a washerwoman. Hoping that he was looking, she worked at cleaning her blouse and skirt until Zweepee’s voice came to her over the water:

  “Doli, can’t you finish that and get dressed so the men can bathe?”

  Reluctantly, Doli stood. Facing half into the forest, she wrung out her clothes then crossed the brook, swinging her hips slightly as she went. After all, there was still a chance that Spinner was looking. She might yet distract him from that Golden Girl.

  Dressed, she joined the other women and flushed when Zweepee said with a sparkle in her eyes, “One might think you were an entertainer with an audience the way you did your laundry.”

  Alyline simply looked away.

  The men bathed downstream. One stayed at the campsite to guard the women, and a second went farther down the brook, while the third cleaned himself and his clothes. Thanks to Doli, the women had taken so long bathing that it was dark by the time the men were dressed again.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-ONE

  “No,” Alyline snapped. “That’s wrong, it’s not fair.”

  The sun was long down, and little starlight filtered through the treetops. A faint glow from the embers left alive in the makeshift hearth to keep water warm for tea picked out highlights on the six people who sat in a circle around the fire’s remnants.

  Spinner looked at her, confused. “What’s not fair? Fletcher, Haft, and I will each take two hours. I’m only asking two of you to take one hour each. One hour can’t be too much to ask of you. You’ll get more sleep than we will.”

  The Golden Girl spat into the embers of the small fire, just missing the teapot. “You are a fool, Spinner! You look at us and you think because our skin is soft to the touch that we are weak and unable. The six of us have been traveling for more than a week. Our pace has been hard at times. We have not stopped for longer than overnight. We have been going as hard as you, and not once did one of us say she needed extra rest, not once has one of us slowed you down. This place is the first we’ve seen where we could even bathe, and not one word of complaint from any of us. What’s more, when we stop at the end of the day to make camp for the night, it is we three who make the fire and cook our meal, while the three of you gather firewood and then take your ease in standing guard.” She spat again. “You don’t seem to understand that this shows we are as strong as you. We are capable. We can stand watch as well as you. And if we all take turns, then sometimes one of you will get a complete night’s sleep instead of losing sleep in guard duty every night.”

  “She’s right, it’s not fair to you,” Zweepee said quietly. As always, she sat next to her husband.

  Spi
nner started to object, but he didn’t know what to say. Alyline was right that he thought the women were too delicate to share in night watch. And the women were standing up to the rigors of travel as well as the men. He looked to Doli, but no help was coming from her.

  Silent at first, Doli stared back at him. She didn’t want to agree with Alyline on anything, but the Golden Girl was right. “It is wrong for you to always take the watch and have no help from us,” she finally said.

  Spinner looked at the other men for support. Haft was carefully studying the darkness under the trees as though already on watch, and avoided eye contact with him. Fletcher looked like he wanted to say something else, but nodded in agreement with Alyline. “They can hear as well as we can,” he said. “If one hears someone coming, she can wake us.”

  Defeated, Spinner sagged. But he was not yet willing to admit it. Like all young men, he had an almost overwhelming urge to protect young women in his circle, especially the better looking ones, even when they didn’t particularly need protection. It had never created a problem for him in the past, as nearly all young women he met were more than willing to accept the help and protection of young men when there was something heavy to lift or the faintest hint of danger. That was the way of nature, he assumed, and it was a young man’s opportunity to prove to a young woman that he could take care of her and their children before there were children to worry about, as it was her chance to see to it that she was pairing off with a man who could care for her and her children when they needed him.

  Alyline stood. “I’ll take first watch,” she announced. “My hearing is sharp.” She smiled grimly at Haft. “I’ll stay near Haft, and if anything approaches, I’ll wake him to deal with it.”

  Haft returned her smile with a sickly one of his own; he didn’t like the idea of the Golden Girl hovering over him while he slept.

  “Who wants second watch?”

  “I’ll take it,” Haft said before anyone else could volunteer. If Alyline had to wake him to relieve her, he thought it was unlikely that she would do anything to injure him during his sleep.

  Fletcher and Zweepee took the second half of the night.

  Doli looked both disappointed and relieved that the four quarters of the night were divided up and no watch was left for her. Her expression changed when she looked at Spinner; she gave every appearance of thinking that she would now have the entire night to entice him.

  “Wake me well before dawn,” Spinner said gruffly. “I will stand the last watch.”

  Alyline gave him a smile. “See? With more people sharing watch, we will all get enough sleep tonight.”

  Spinner stifled a groan as he turned away from her and curled up next to the fire, where he could sleep alone. “Go away,” he said in a low, annoyed voice.

  Doli started. She hadn’t thought she was close enough for him to hear her approach. She turned away with an expression of chagrin and found a space to lay down alone.

  During his time with the Frangerian Marines, Spinner had always hated being assigned last watch; the man who pulled last watch was woken too early to have had a full night’s sleep and wouldn’t have a chance to return to sleep after the watch. And the quiet darkness before the sun rose was a difficult time to stay awake. But last watch was also the most dangerous time of the night, the time when raiders were most likely to strike. Fate had put him in charge, made him responsible for the safety of the people in their small group. It was a responsibility he hadn’t sought, one he didn’t want. But everyone seemed willing to take his lead—at least no one had stepped forward to challenge his leadership. Since he seemed to be in charge, Spinner felt he should be the one to guard his sleeping companions when they were at their most vulnerable. But that night he also thought last watch would be the best time for him to think about what might lay ahead of them and to plan.

  Spinner was glad that Doli hadn’t drawn one of the watches; she would have wanted to stay awake talking with him, perhaps even attempting to do things other than talk. Either way, her attentions made him uncomfortable. He wished Alyline had the watch before his, then he could . . . No, that was the same thought he’d had about Doli. It was just as well it was Zweepee who woke him; had it been Alyline, he knew he would have wanted to pay attention to her. He couldn’t afford that distraction any more than he could Doli’s attention.

  So Zweepee woke him, stayed close long enough for him to stand up and assure her he was fully awake, then went back to the bedding she shared with her husband.

  Spinner stretched a bit to loosen muscles that had stiffened in sleep, then walked softly around the small campsite. As soon as he knew precisely where everybody lay sleeping, he slowly walked in a circle around the group, stopping frequently to listen to the night. Few sounds disturbed the quiet. A hunting owl hooted in a tree, a bat squeed, a prey animal screamed briefly when a hunter caught it. The distant noises of restless people to the east told him where the highway was. Otherwise all was quiet.

  So he thought. Where were they going? To Zobra. Why? To catch a ship home—at least one going to Frangeria, which might be the same thing as going home. What was happening between where they were and the port of Zobra City? That was the big question. The Jokapcul obviously had not ended their invasion of southwestern Nunimar with the occupation of New Bally and the conquest of the Duchy of Bostia; they had invaded Skragland and Zobra as well. But where in Zobra were they? Except for the dead Zobran warders they’d run across two days earlier, the travelers hadn’t seen any sign of fighting. There were the faint sounds they’d heard yesterday, and there was the unnatural silence in this area when they arrived the previous evening, but nothing else to tell him where fighting might be.

  What kind of planning could he do? He had no idea what to do, except to continue south. What would they do if Zobra City was in the hands of the Jokapcul? That possibility was something he didn’t want to think about. If Zobra City was taken, he suspected the way to the Princedons, on the large peninsula southeast of Zobra, would be blocked. He didn’t think they could turn and go back the way they’d come; of the many rumors they had heard when they first reached the highway, the one he most believed was that the Jokapcul had invaded Skragland from Bostia. If Zobra City was in Jokapcul hands, the way to the Princedons blocked, and Skragland invaded, perhaps fully occupied, then the Low Desert would be their only route to freedom. Maps he had seen told him the Low Desert led only to the High Desert. He knew nothing of how to survive in the desert, high or low, and he didn’t think any of the people with him did either. So he had no idea what to do if Zobra City was taken.

  But before thinking of what to do in that case, they had to get to the port. That meant continuing south. Toward where they had heard the distant sounds of fighting. How to avoid Jokapcul patrols—that was what he needed to think about and plan for.

  He was still thinking and coming to no conclusions when the rising sun woke the forest birds, whose greeting cries woke the other people.

  Spinner feared what the morning would lead them to.

  They made little conversation when they ate the cooked venison and half-cooked tubers left over from the previous day. The men kept looking warily to the south, and the women looked in that direction nervously. They all wondered what the day would bring: the men, how many enemies they might have to fight; the women, whether any of them would live to see another sunrise. Except for the Golden Girl; to Spinner, Alyline seemed confident. Perhaps she was looking forward to the chance for revenge against slavers or Jokapcul.

  The morning mist wasn’t completely burned off by the time they saddled their horses and tied their small amount of gear on them. Without a word, Haft led the way on foot. Spinner followed, also afoot, not far behind him. Fletcher brought up the rear on horseback. Alyline, mounted on the stallion, took the gelding by its reins and led him. The early morning forest was alive with bird song, the chitterings of tree dwellers, the buzz of insects, the triumphant cry of a hunting cat over its kill. The normal forest so
unds did nothing to ease anyone’s tension. Spinner looked carefully, but no flash of gray told him the wolf was still traveling with them. He wondered if the wolf had merely been escorting them through its range. Perhaps they were beyond its territory.

  As they proceeded south, the normal forest sounds diminished. At midmorning the caws of buzzards sounded ahead of them.

  The caws suddenly became angry screams, and a great flapping of wings resounded through the forest. Spinner and Haft dropped to their knees behind bushes and readied their crossbows. They looked forward intently. Thirty or so paces ahead the light filtering through the treetops seemed brighter; there was probably a clearing just beyond view. Spinner turned and signaled the others to hold and be ready for whatever came next. Then, in a low crouch, Haft ran softly ahead fifteen paces, lowered himself to the ground, and rapidly crawled to where he could see into the clearing. Spinner covered him, then dashed forward when Haft stopped behind a tree at the edge of the clearing.

  There had been a battle. Bodies were strewn about the clearing. From the uniforms on the corpses, it was obvious it hadn’t been as one-sided a fight as the earlier one. Nearly half of these dead were Jokapcul. There were two barely seen bodies just inside the trees at the far side of the clearing; perhaps the fight had turned into a running battle.

  The wolf that had been pacing the small party was already in the clearing, chasing away the last of the vultures. Then it sat in the middle of the clearing, looked straight at where Spinner and Haft lay hiding behind bushes and said, “Ulgh!”

  “It’s coincidence,” Haft said softly. “Tell me it’s coincidence. Tell me it’s not the same wolf that’s been following us. Tell me it’s not the same wolf that chased the vultures away before.” He aimed his crossbow at the wolf.