Mamelukes

by Jerry Pournelle

  “You can tell that?” Sandori asked. “How?”

  “Just can.” Haskins looked around. “I did some logging once. Hard work, too hard for me! But look over in the woods there, see that stump? That tree was cut down with a saw. Too even across the top, and trees don’t just break over and fall.”

  “Oh.” She looked around nervously.

  “Long time ago,” Haskins said.

  They were in the middle of breakfast. Haskins proved to be skillful with the small Mountain Safety Research stove, and a good cook. Saxon savored the last of the fresh eggs and bacon. He had just finished when the communicator box spoke.

  “Mr. Saxon. Awantshu.”

  “Here!”

  “You need not walk to the road. There is a party coming towards you. They have been moving purposefully in your direction for half an hour, and it is clear they know where they are going.”

  “What should we do?”

  “We have no advice,” the voice said. “We have delivered you to a place of your choosing.”

  “How would they have known where to come?”

  “Perhaps we were seen. We made no effort to hide,” the voice said. “We used lights freely in landing you.”

  Saxon nodded to himself.

  “You said this area wasn’t inhabited.”

  “We saw no signs of inhabitants. In any event they are coming to you. It remains only to observe.”

  “You’ll watch.”

  “Yes. We are required to report your situation to Inspector Agzaral.”

  “And if they slaughter us?”

  “We will report that to His Importance. Good luck.”

  “How many are coming?”

  “We count seventeen. Nine are mounted. All appear to be armed, and some are in armor.”

  “A war party?”

  “They appear to be escorts to a large wagon train moving eastward along the road. That wagon train has halted. Although we saw no one watching, it is our belief that the landing last night was observed, by them or someone closer. You would have been discovered in any event. Is it not better sooner than later?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Good luck.”

  “Wait! Maybe it would be better to move us to another location!”

  “We cannot do that. Good luck.”

  “Why can’t you?”

  “That was not part of our contract nor is it within our discretion. Good luck.”

  Saxon shouted at the box but there was nothing else.

  “Okay, Boss, so what do we do?” Haskins demanded. “Dig in? Lay out heavy weapons?”

  “We don’t have any heavy weapons,” Saxon said. “And I’d rather not start off with a firefight even if we had them. It won’t do you two any harm to get out rifles and take up positions between the containers, but don’t shoot unless I tell you.”

  “Or you aren’t able to give any more orders,” Sandori said.

  “Well, yeah, there’s that,” Saxon said.

  * * *

  The waiting was the hard part. A thousand doubts ran races in Saxon’s head. Should they run away, abandon their cargo? That couldn’t be intelligent. Without the equipment they had no reason to be here. There was nothing to do but wait.

  * * *

  The approaching party made no attempt at concealment. First there was the sound of a trumpet, then a half dozen crossbowmen, led by a fugleman with a banner, emerged from the woods into the clearing. They formed a rough line, broken in the middle, their bows held low in what had to be a deliberately unthreatening pose. When the crossbowmen were set, four horsemen rode through their lines and out into the clearing.

  “Ave!” one shouted.

  The spokesman had neither helmet nor armor. He wore a dark blue velvet doublet slashed to reveal scarlet silk lining, dark hose that looked like silk, and a black velvet muffin-shaped hat. A sword, thin but shorter than a rapier, hung at his left side. His beard was well trimmed.

  Looks young, Saxon thought. Under thirty. Handsome devil.

  “Ave, indeed,” Saxon answered.

  The man responded with rapid sentences in Italian. Saxon thought he recognized a few words, but no more than that. He stood there, helplessly.

  “He says he is Caesare Avanti,” Sandori said from behind him. She came up to join him. “He’s a Senator in Nikeis, and his uncle is a Councilor. These soldiers are his retainers. We’re in the territory of the Most Serene Republic of Nikeis, sometimes known as the New Venetian Republic.”

  “Hot damn. Did he say what he wants?”

  Sandori spoke liquid syllables and got more in answer.

  “He asks if we are star men. He says he knows two star men, and we carry weapons that resemble those the star men carry.”

  “There goes secrecy. Tell him sure, we’re star men, and we’re here to help them.”

  Sandori spoke a few words, then nearly collapsed with giggles.

  “What in the world?”

  “Sorry. Can’t help it,” she said with a grin. “I said, ‘We come in peace. Take me to your leader.’”

  * * *

  Caesare Avanti seemed excited. He gawked at the visible gear—nylon tent, mountain stove, canteens and mess kits, backpacks and sleeping bags—and kept glancing at their holstered pistols.

  He also kept eyeing Sandori’s ankles. She wore camouflage trousers with the bottoms rolled up. Saxon remembered she’d put on boots when they got up, but sometime after the Nikeisians arrived she’d taken off both boots and heavy socks and put on slippers.

  “It will take some time to bring sufficient transport for all this,” Senator Avanti said. He waved his hand to indicate the cargo containers. “Perhaps you could unpack what equipment you will need and come with us. We will leave men to guard this site, and when the transport column arrives they will bring everything to the seaport city.”

  Sandori translated into English, then asked him, “Do you understand the value of what is here?”

  “Of course not.”

  “But you will concede that it is great. Senator, who do you trust to guard such a fortune? Every power on this planet will pay to obtain what is here.”

  “What use will it be?” Avanti asked.

  Saxon struggled to understand, and interrupted the translation to say “To whom? Captain Galloway can use anything here.” Saxon spoke in what he hoped was the planetary lingua franca, and Avanti nodded in apparent understanding.

  “Does he know you are here?”

  “He is expecting us.” Saxon said. “And does he not have agents in your city?”

  “He does. They enjoy the hospitality of the Signory,” Avanti said. “As do the Roman agents.”

  “Those you know of,” Sandori said.

  “True.”

  “I think it best to wait,” Saxon said. He looked over to where Haskins was standing guard with a battle rifle.

  “And we will continue to enjoy the pleasure of your company,” Sandori said.

  Saxon could have sworn she was batting her eyes at the young Senator.

  PART THREE

  STRANGERS

  CHAPTER ONE

  THE SUMMONS

  Rick Galloway left Sergeant Walbrook to organize the final evacuation of Armagh and moved north with his guards and staff. They camped at a major crossroad, with branches leading northeast to Taranto, west to Chelm, and north through borderlands into the Five Kingdoms. He planned on sending most of this party west to join Tylara, while he took an escorting force to Taranto to investigate what was happening in Nikeis.

  The day’s march was satisfactory, and Rick had Warner as his guest at dinner. As they were finishing, there were shouts from the periphery guards. A few moments later Sergeant McCleve came into Rick’s command caravan.

  “Reporting, Sir,” he said, and Rick returned the salute.

  “Kind of private, Sir,” McCleve said. “Medical report, Sir.”

  Rick nodded and turned to Warner.

  “Guess that’s your cue.”

>   “Right, Colonel. I’ll go see to my gear.”

  Rick waited until Warner was gone and he was alone with McCleve, then nodded.

  “Have a seat, Sergeant.”

  “Don’t mind if I do.”

  “Wine?”

  “No, Sir, water’s okay. Unless you’ve opened some of the reserves?”

  “No.”

  “Then just water.” McCleve watched Rick for a moment and grinned. “Seeing as how surprised you are—”

  “Maybe a little.” Rick shrugged. “Okay, a lot. Never saw you turn down a drink before.”

  “You didn’t notice, I guess. Been sober for months,” McCleve said. “Got that devil licked to the point I can enjoy a glass and not want more. No point in cheap wine, though. I do like the taste of some of the best.”

  “That’s good news, Sergeant.” Rick frowned. “You’re the closest thing we have to a doctor. Maybe it’s time we recognized that.”

  “Sir?”

  “Doctors are usually officers,” Rick said. “Perhaps it’s time to promote you to captain.”

  “Not a lot of point to it, is there, Sir?” McCleve said. “Not as if it would put me in a higher pay grade, so to speak. The locals all call me Lord anyway, and why would I care if Warner and Bisso call me ‘Sir’?” He grinned. “Of course it might be interesting to have Elliot ‘Sir’ me, ’specially if we both end up back at the University. Maybe I ought to think on that one again.”

  “All right. If you have new thoughts on the subject, come see me. Now, do you have a report?”

  “Yes, Sir. You asked me to stay behind to examine Publius. I did. From all I can see, it’s arthritis, the first stages of leukemia, multiple sclerosis or lupus, Colonel. I’d say lupus, but without a blood count—and we can’t do those here—I can’t be sure. If it’s MS or leukemia, I can’t help him.”

  “Lupus. Is that fatal?”

  “Can be. It’s an autoimmune disease, Colonel. Tends to be debilitating. Symptoms are a lot like arthritis, only generally much worse, but severe lupus can take out the kidneys or other organs. Attitude counts a lot.”

  “Is there a treatment?”

  “Maybe, but not one I have,” McCleve said. “Prednisone is the standard treatment for it back home, and it helps, but the side effects can be nasty. ’Course, we don’t have any prednisone, though I suppose we could ask the Shalnuksis for some.” He shrugged. “Hasn’t helped much with anything else, I know, but we sure can’t make it here.”

  “We can always ask,” Rick agreed with a shrug of his own. “I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting, though.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it. Now if I had some books on lab techniques maybe I could get started figuring out how to produce more of what we need locally, but I don’t. Too bad we didn’t have a good chemistry set with us in Africa! I’ve made a passable microscope, but chemistry was never my strong point anyway.”

  “You seem pretty familiar with lab work,” Rick said.

  “Sure. I have an MD degree, Colonel.” He grinned at Rick’s astonishment. “From Guadalajara University. After I graduated I pretty well drank my way out of getting a license in the US. After a while I joined up as a medic. I’m a lot out of date, but I did have the training.”

  “Now I’m pretty sure we’ll have to give you a commission,” Rick said, and McCleve snorted in amusement.

  “I doubt it matters a lot, but it’s okay with me.”

  “So what’s the prognosis with Publius?”

  “I left him some aspirin,” McCleve said. “Told him about willow bark, too. Willow bark works here just as good as it does on Earth. Damn near as rare, too! But he’s got the resources to look for more. And I gave him some mumbo jumbo to keep up his spirits. Attitude’s likely to be as important as anything else. If he keeps his spirits up, he’s good for ten years anyway, maybe more, but lupus is pretty tricky, Colonel. It can hurt like hell, and bring on fits of depression, and if he gets too discouraged there’s lots of ways to go out rather than face it.”

  “I see.” One more thing to worry about, but nothing I can do, Rick thought. Not now, anyway. “Thanks, Doc.”

  “Sure.” McCleve stood and saluted. “I’ll give it some more thought, Colonel, but I can’t think of anything else just offhand.”

  Rick nodded. “Thanks.”

  * * *

  The crossing was important enough to support a major village. It also held one of Rick’s semaphore posts. At dawn the semaphore arms began waving and a runner came to Rick’s caravan. Rick heard him shout “Urgent message from the Wanax,” and went back to his breakfast.

  An hour later he had the message. It was brief:

  “To Rick Galloway, Warlord of Drantos, greetings. We advanced on Aachilos. At first we met success, but now we have been defeated. Many star weapons were used against us. The host of the Five Kingdoms pursues us. I do not know their numbers. There are star men serving the Five. I do not know their numbers. Bring all your forces to the Ottarn Fords immediately. Disaster threatens. Bring all forces. You will learn more as you approach the Ottarn. Ganton, Wanax.”

  It was followed by authentication codes that left no doubt this was a message sent by Ganton.

  “But whether he had a dagger to his throat is another matter,” Warner said sourly.

  “Yah, but what do we do?” Sergeant Major Elliot asked pointedly. “‘Send all forces’ isn’t a command that makes sense, Colonel. How the hell will we feed them all? Send them to face what? And if you strip Chelm what holds back that goddam army sitting in your crop fields? Skipper, this is stupid.”

  And Ganton isn’t stupid. Or hasn’t been.

  “Panic, Top?”

  “Looks that way to me,” Elliot said. “’Course you know him better than me, Colonel.”

  “It’s a direct order. Sir,” Warner said. “If he’s looking for a way to get at you, direct disobedience is a pretty good charge.”

  “I’d say you have a nasty, suspicious mind, if I didn’t worry about the same thing myself, Mr. Warner,” Elliot said.

  “Disobedience to an order that can’t be carried out,” Rick said. “There’s no way we can feed a big army at the Ottarn. Hell, we damn near stripped the place ourselves. We can get fodder sent in from the local areas, and carry rations, but that’s sure going to limit how many troops we can bring.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Warner said. “But it doesn’t change a direct order, Colonel.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Rick said. “But we don’t know what we’re facing, either. How many star weapons? Is this some renegade from our outfit?”

  “Who would it be?” Elliot asked. “He said ‘many.’ We’re not missing ‘many.’ Clavell and Harrison, they’re in Nikeis. Maybe Murphy went off his head and joined the enemy, but that don’t make sense, and it still doesn’t add up to ‘many.’ Colonel, to the best I can make it we’ve accounted for everyone we brought here from Earth, and I just named the only ones not dead or directly under our command.”

  Elliot looked thoughtful.

  “Unless Gengrich went rogue again, but if he had we’d have heard.” The sergeant major looked around to be certain no one but Warner and Rick could hear him. “And even if we didn’t hear, your Lady would, she’s got those Children of Vothan watching down there. No. To the best I can make it, this has to be someone new.” He looked thoughtful. “Colonel, I’d sure feel better about this if we’d heard anything from our people in Nikeis. I don’t much believe in coincidences. Lights in the sky at Nikeis, now Ganton runs into opposition with star weapons.”

  “Sounds like new players,” Rick agreed. “Wonder how many?” He paused to think. “So. Okay. We send mounted forces, and not many of those. We have to sort out who goes north and who goes west from here. Elliot, I’ll leave that to you. Sounds like we may need Walbrook and his mortars with us, so get a runner back to him and tell him to hand over the evacuation to Walinski. Then he's to join us as quickly as he can. Get all our noncombatants and supplies and logistics together an
d have them wait here for Walinski’s lot. And tell Walinski to get a wiggle on. Leave anything we can replace. I want him headed west with enough guards to make sure he gets there. The rest of us head north to the summons. That includes Warner and McCleve, I want them with me. Get your book out, Warner, I’ve got semaphore signals to dictate.”

  “Aye, aye, Skipper.”

  “All coded. Signal to Tylara, copy of the Wanax’s message and orders. To Mason, leave Tylara a bodyguard. Henderson and Boyd, I think. He’s to bring the rest of the mercs to the Ottarn. Particularly Ark and the LMG, and Frick and McQuaid with the Carl Gustav. We don’t have many rounds left for that, but bring what we have. It may be needed. Leave the one-oh-six with Tylara; there isn’t enough ammunition left for it to be worth much in the field.

  “The Musketeer Dragoon Company, I guess. They aren’t trained very well, but they may be better than nothing. Bring light cavalry. Reiters, all of them, all of the mounted archers. Bring the mobile supply trains, logistics people. Tell him to use his judgment, but it needs to be fast and self-contained. All mounted, keep the movements secret, and make it as quick as possible. Warner, get that off.”

  “Yes, Sir—Colonel, that’s going to leave your county pretty defenseless against that Fiver army camped there.”

  “Maybe not. If the enemy doesn’t know, it won’t matter at all. Even if they do they’ll have to assault fixed positions, and Tylara can handle that. At worst she can hold the castle until I get there.” He thought for a moment. “It won’t hurt to remind Mason that the Great Guns aren’t part of what I consider mobile forces. Leave those big cannon to defend the walls. Make sure that reads like a reminder and not an insult to his intelligence.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Warner nodded and Sergeant Major Elliot chuckled.

  “Given them gunners are local militia and you’re stripping the county of most everything else, I’d think it would take a direct order to get Lady Tylara to let go of those guns in the first place.”

  “If even that would do it,” Rick said. “Okay, but it never hurts to be explicit, particularly in a semaphore message. What I want to get across is they should keep what it takes to hold Chelm, but the Wanax has directly ordered us to ‘bring everything.’ That’s the way to start the message, with the royal order. She’ll catch on quick enough, she’s sharper than I am about local politics.”