Читать книгу Rage of a Demon King - Raymond E. Feist - Страница 14

Calis pointed.

Erik nodded, then signaled for his squad to move out behind him. The men duck-walked in the gully, keeping their heads below the rim of the wash through which they were approaching their opposition.

Erik was both sick to death of this drilling and frantic that it might not be enough. In the six months since he had taken the first band of soldiers into the mountains, he had judged he had a solid twelve hundred soldiers under his command, reliable men who would survive on their own for as long as possible.

There were another six hundred men who were close, needing a bit more training.

The band he led now were those he feared would never become the soldiers needed to win this coming war.

Alfred tapped him on the shoulder and Erik turned. The corporal pointed to a man on the other side of the gully, who was not walking as instructed, letting the discomfort in his knees drive him to recklessness.

Erik nodded, and Alfred nearly dove to get to the man and pull him to the floor of the gully. Sharp rocks cut both men, but Alfred’s hand clamped hard over the soldier’s mouth, preventing his cry from being heard by the nearby sentries. Erik could hear his corporal’s whisper: ‘Now, Davy, your sore knees just got you and your comrades killed.’

A distant voice told Erik the exercise was a failure, and as if reading Erik’s mind, Calis stood and said, ‘This is done.’

Erik and the others rose and Alfred jerked the soldier named Davy to his feet with one powerful tug. Now his voice was unleashed in all its volume and fury. ‘You rock-headed layabout! You sorry excuse for a water boy! You’ll regret the day your father looked at your mother when I’m done with you.’

Calis heard a challenge, turned, and called out the password. He motioned to Erik, and the Sergeant Major and his Captain walked away from the men. Calis said, ‘Corporal, start them back to camp.’

Alfred shouted, ‘You heard the Captain! Back to camp! Quick march!’

The soldiers set out at a ragged run, and the Corporal harried them every step of the way.

Calis watched in silence until the men were out of sight; then he said, ‘We have a problem.’

Erik nodded. The sun was setting in the west and he said, ‘Each day about this time, I feel as if we’ve lost another step. We’re never going to get six thousand men trained in time.’

‘I know,’ said Calis.

Erik looked at his Captain and sought any hint of his mood. In the years he had spent with Calis he had come no closer to being able to read him than he had the first day they had met. He was an enigma to Erik, as unreadable as one of those foreign texts William kept in his library. Calis smiled. ‘That’s not the problem. Don’t worry. We’ll have our six thousand men in the field when the time comes. They won’t be as well trained as either of us would like, but the core will be solid, and that backbone of really fine soldiers will help keep the others alive.’ He studied his young Sergeant Major’s face for a while, then said, ‘You forget that the one thing you can’t teach is the seasoning you get in combat. Some of the men you judge fit will get themselves killed in the first few minutes, while some you would wager everything you have will perish will survive, even flourish in the midst of the carnage.’

His smile vanished. ‘No, the problem I speak of is we’ve been infiltrated.’

Erik said, ‘Infiltrated? A spy?’

‘Several, I suspect. It’s a hunch, nothing more. Those we face are occasionally heavy-handed, but they’re never stupid.’

Erik thought it time to broach his own unease. ‘Is that why the Prince’s guards are ensuring no one sees the Royal Engineers building supply roads along the rear of Nightmare Ridge?’

‘Nightmare Ridge?’ asked Calis. His expression was clear to Erik. He wasn’t being disingenuous, he didn’t recognize the name.

‘That’s what we call it in Ravensburg,’ answered Erik. ‘It’s probably called something else up north.’ He glanced around. ‘I ran a company up into the north and took them farther than usual. We ran into a company of Pathfinders and a bunch of Prince Patrick’s Household Guards. I could hear the sound of tools coming from the other side of the valley we entered, echoing from behind the ridge: trees being felled, anvils striking steel, and spikes being driven into rock. The Prince’s corps of engineers is building a road. That ridge runs all the way from the Teeth of the World down through Darkmoor, and halfway to Kesh. It’s almost impossible to cross anywhere there isn’t a road, and more than one traveler’s been found dead up there. That’s why we call it Nightmare Ridge. You get lost anywhere up there in cold weather, you’re a dead man.’

Calis nodded. ‘That’s the place. You weren’t supposed to be there, Erik. Captain Subai was not pleased, nor was Prince Patrick. But yes, that’s why no one is permitted to go there, in case the enemy does have agents snooping around outside Krondor.’

Erik blurted, ‘You’re going to abandon the city.’

Calis sighed. ‘I wish it were that simple.’ He was silent as he watched the sunset. Brilliant orange and pink faced by black clouds far away, over the sea, gave an unreal quality to the approaching evening, as if nothing that beautiful should exist in the same world as the coming evil.

Calis looked at Erik. ‘We have several plans in place. You need worry only about the disposition of soldiers under your command. You’ll be told where to take them and what your options are. Once you are in the mountains with your soldiers, you’ll have to make the decisions, Erik. You’ll have to judge what is best for both your men and the overall campaign. A great deal will ride on your judgment.

‘But until the Prince and Knight-Marshal are ready to brief you on the overall operation, I will not give you details you might blurt out to the wrong person.’

‘The infiltrators?’

‘That, or if you’re abducted and some agent of the Pantathians doses you with some potion to make you speak, or if they have mind readers like the Lady Gamina in their employ. We have no idea what might happen. That’s why whatever you hear you share with no man, and you’re only to be told what you need to know.’

Erik nodded. ‘I’m worried …’

‘About the girl?’

Erik was surprised. ‘You know about that?’

Calis motioned they should start walking after the departing soldiers, and said, ‘What sort of Captain would I be if I didn’t know about my Sergeant Major’s life outside the barracks?’

Erik had no answer for that. He said, ‘Of course I’m worried about Kitty. I’m worried about Roo and his family, too. I’m worried about everybody.’

‘Now you’re starting to sound like Bobby, though he would never have voiced it that way.’ Calis smiled. ‘He’d have said, “We’ve got too damn much work to do and half the time needed, and a bunch of incompetent fools doing it.”’

Erik laughed. ‘That sounds like him.’

‘I miss him, Erik. I know you do, as well, but Bobby was one of the first I picked. The first of my “desperate men.”’

Erik said, ‘I thought you fetched him from the Border Barons to work for you.’

Calis laughed. ‘Bobby would have put it that way. He failed to mention he was going to be hanged for having killed another soldier in a brawl. I had to beat him a half-dozen times to get him to control his temper.’

‘Beat him?’ asked Erik, negotiating his way over a large rock, as they followed the gully downward.

‘I told him each time he lost his temper I’d strip to the waist and we’d have at it. If he was standing and I was not, he was a free man. It took that fool six beatings before he finally realized I was a great deal stronger than I look.’

Erik knew that was the truth. The Captain’s father was a man called Tomas, some sort of lord or another up in the north. By all rumors, his mother was the Elf Queen. But whatever the truth of his parentage, Calis’s strength was unmatched by that of any man Erik had run across. The former smith from Ravensburg had been the strongest man in his village, and of all those soldiers who had served with him on his first voyage to Novindus, only the huge man named Biggo was his equal. But Calis had done things that Erik could only judge impossible. He had once seen the Captain easily pick up a wagon so Erik could replace the wheel, when Erik knew from experience he would have needed the help of at least two other men to duplicate the feat.

Considering Bobby de Loungville’s nature, Erik said, ‘I’m surprised you didn’t have to kill him.’

Calis laughed. ‘I came close, twice. Bobby wasn’t a man to take defeat easily. When I came back from that first trip to Novindus, and we came limping into Krondor harbor like whipped hounds, Prince Arutha called me the “Eagle” because of the banner on our ship.’ Erik nodded. He knew as well as any man that in that distant land Calis played the part of a mercenary captain, and his company was called the Crimson Eagles. ‘Bobby elected to call himself the Dog of Krondor. Prince Arutha seemed less than pleased, but said nothing.’

Calis stopped and restrained Erik. ‘Don’t say anything to anyone about what you suspect, Erik. I don’t want to lose another Sergeant Major. Bobby may have fancied himself a dog, but he was a loyal and tough one. You’re just as loyal and just as tough, though you don’t know it yet.’

Erik nodded at the compliment. ‘Thank you, sir.’

‘I’m not through. I don’t want to lose another Sergeant Major because Duke James hanged him to keep him silent.’ He looked Erik in the eyes. ‘Do I make myself clear?’

‘Very.’

‘Come along, then, we’ve got to march this lot back to Krondor and hand them over to William to turn into garrison rats. If they somehow find themselves in the mountains, they may survive a little longer than the average soldier, so we’ve done them a favor, but none of these men will be of service to us.’

Erik said, ‘That’s the truth.’

‘Go find me some more men, Erik. Desperate men if you must, but get me some men we can train.’

‘Where should I seek them?’ asked Erik.

Calis said, ‘Go see the King before he leaves Krondor. If you ask him nicely, he may give you a warrant so you can steal the Border Barons’ best men from them. The Barons will not be happy when you do this, but if we lose this war, invasion from the Northlands is the last thing we’ll need worry about.’

Erik, remembering the map of the Kingdom in William’s office, said, ‘That means a journey to Northwarden, Ironpass, and Highcastle.’

‘Start with Ironpass,’ instructed Calis. ‘You’ll have to move fast, and while you’re bringing the men south, march them through the Dimwood and avoid Sethanon. Get them here as soon as you can.’ Then with what Erik had come to think of as Calis’s evil grin, he said, ‘You have two months.’

Erik suppressed a groan. ‘I need three!’

‘Kill some mounts getting there if you must, but you have two. I need another six hundred good men, two hundred from each of those garrisons here in Krondor in two months.’

‘That will leave them with less than half their standard garrison! All of the Barons will object.’

‘Of course they’ll object,’ said Calis with a laugh. ‘That’s why you need the King’s Warrant.’

Erik hesitated, then set off in a jog, leaving a startled Calis behind. ‘Where are you running to?’

‘Krondor,’ said Erik. ‘I need all the time I can squeeze, and there’s someone I must say good-bye to.’

Calis’s laughter faded into the background as Erik continued to run. He was still running when he passed a startled Alfred and the men marching back to camp.

Erik had spent a difficult day with the King and then with Kitty. While the King wasn’t too adverse to stripping his northern garrisons of soldiers needed there to defend his realm from the marauding goblins and dark elves, he was less than enthused with Calis entrusting the task of selecting those men to a sergeant. He reminded Erik that he carried court rank now, and he shouldn’t let any of the Barons question his right to carry out those orders, but silently Erik wondered how he would force a nobleman with nearly four hundred armed men trained to obey to do what Erik wanted should the King’s Warrant prove insufficient.

He told Jadow that Calis would be returning later with the men who were to be reassigned to the Prince’s garrison, and then left to find Kitty.

She took the news of his two-month absence with a calm exterior, but Erik had come to know her well enough to see she was upset. He wished he could spend one more day with her, but knew that Calis’s time limit was nearly impossible.

They slipped out of the inn and spent an emotional hour together, and at the end Erik had come as close as he dared to breaking his word to Calis about not repeating what he suspected. He just warned Kitty that should he not be around when that ‘something big’ she suspected finally happened, she should slip out of Krondor and head to Ravensburg. He knew that when word of the invaders finally reached the city, there would be a little time to flee before the Prince ordered the city sealed. Kitty was smart enough to know what he meant and she would head to the Inn of the Pintail in Ravensburg to be with Freida, his mother, and Nathan, his stepfather. He promised he would find her there.

Erik left two hours before sundown. He knew he would have to put up at an inn along the way, but every hour he could steal would be worth the extra expense. Besides, he was spending the King’s gold, not his own.

Sundown found him still an hour from the nearest inn. The little moon was up, so it wasn’t completely dark, and the King’s Highway was a clearly marked way, but Erik walked his horse rather than risk an injury by having the animal stumble.

His horse was a tough little roan gelding he had selected himself. It wasn’t as strong or as large as most of the horses in the Prince’s stable, but it was likely to possess more endurance than most of the animals Erik might choose.

He would switch mounts often on this journey, and he would be in the saddle from before dawn to after dusk for nearly two weeks to reach Ironpass, and even then he would have to push the horses to the end of their endurance, but it could be done.

Silently Erik cursed his Captain and rode into the night.

Nakor pointed. ‘There, again!’

Sho Pi nodded. ‘As it was last time, Master.’

Nakor resisted the impulse to tell the young man to cease calling him master. It was as pointless as telling a dog not to scratch fleas.

‘Keshian patrols along the south coast of the Sea of Dreams,’ observed Nakor. ‘Last time Calis informed the garrison commander, yet here again we see Keshian lancers riding with their colors unfurled.’ After a moment, he laughed.

‘What is funny, Master?’

Nakor struck the young man lightly with the back of his hand on Sho Pi’s shoulder. ‘It’s obvious, boy. Lord Arutha has made a deal.’

‘A deal?’ asked Sho Pi as the boat’s Captain turned his craft toward the shore.

‘You’ll see,’ said the little man.

He and his disciple had taken ship from Krondor and sailed through the inlet into the waterway between the Bitter Sea and the Sea of Dreams. They were now on a river boat heading to Port Shamata, where they would buy horses and ride to Stardock. Nakor carried documents for Lord Arutha and orders from Prince Patrick and Duke James. Nakor had a nagging suspicion he knew what was in those documents, for several of them bore the King’s own crest, not that of the Prince.

The balance of the journey passed uneventfully, and eventually, Nakor and Sho Pi found themselves on the raft that served to carry passengers and goods across the Great Star Lake to the island of Stardock, and the community of magicians that resided there.

Arutha, Lord Vencar, Earl of the King’s Court and son of Duke James, met them at the landing. ‘Nakor, Sho Pi! It’s good to see you two again.’ He laughed. ‘Our last meeting was far too brief.’

Nakor also laughed. He had spent less than two minutes in the newly arrived Earl’s company before departing with Sho Pi and Pug to travel to Elvandar.

As they jumped the narrowing gap between barge and dock, Nakor said, ‘I have messages from your father.’

Arutha said, ‘Come with me, then.’

‘How did you know we were on the barge?’ asked Nakor.

As they walked to the huge building that was Stardock, the man the King had sent to administer the island of magicians said, ‘Something mundane. Our lookout saw you from up there.’ He pointed to one of the windows in a high tower. ‘He sent word to me.’

‘Must be one of my students,’ said Nakor, nodding.

Inside the building, they traversed a long hall and moved toward what Nakor knew would be Arutha’s office. It was the same one he had taken when he had been placed in charge of the island by Calis. ‘Are Chalmes, Kalied, and the others giving you any trouble?’ asked Nakor.

At mention of the Keshian-born traditionalist who resisted the idea of this island’s being subject to the King’s law, Arutha shook his head and said, ‘None worth mentioning. They grouse a bit now and again, but as long as they’re free to teach and do their research, they don’t complain too much about my administration.’

Nakor said, ‘I suspect they’re plotting.’

‘No doubt,’ agreed Arutha as they reached his office, ‘but I think it won’t amount to much without outside help. They’re too spineless to attempt to secede from the Kingdom without a strong ally.’

Once inside the office, Arutha closed the door. ‘And we’re prepared for that,’ said the Earl as he took the packet of documents his father had sent. ‘Excuse me a moment,’ he said, and broke the seal on the first of those, a personal message from the Duke.

As he read, Nakor studied the Earl. He was as tall as his father, but looked more like his mother, with fine features and an almost delicate mouth. His eyes, though, thought Nakor, were his father’s; they were dangerous. His hair was like his father’s, too, as it had been when James was a young man: tight dark brown curls.

After a moment, Arutha said, ‘Do you know what’s in here?’

‘No,’ said Nakor, ‘but I can guess. Erland has just returned from Kesh. Did he pass this way?’

Arutha laughed. ‘Not much gets by you, does it?’

‘When you’ve lived by your wits as long as I have,’ said Nakor, ‘you learn to pay attention to everything.’

‘Yes, Erland stopped for one night on his way home.’

‘Then you’ve made a deal with Kesh.’

Arutha said, ‘Let’s say we’ve come to an understanding.’

If Sho Pi was lost in the conversation, he gave no sign, seemingly content to let his master and the Earl speak uninterrupted.

Nakor laughed. ‘Your father is the most evil, dangerous man I’ve ever met. It’s a good thing he’s on our side.’

Arutha looked rueful. ‘You’ll get no argument from me in that regard. My life has never been my own.’

Nakor took the message as Arutha handed it across the desk. ‘You don’t seem particularly bothered by this,’ observed the gambler.

Arutha shrugged. ‘I had the usual rebellious nature most young men possess, but truth to tell, most of what my father had me do was interesting; challenging even. My sons, as you may have gathered, were a completely different case. My wife is quite a bit more forgiving of “adventuresome” natures than my mother was.’ He stood up as Nakor read the Duke’s message. ‘I have often thought what Father’s life must have been like, to be literally raised a thief in the sewers of Krondor.’ He glanced out a small window that overlooked the shoreline. ‘I’ve heard enough “Jimmy the Hand” stories to last a lifetime.’

‘I didn’t think your father was much on bragging,’ observed Sho Pi as Nakor continued to read.

‘Not from Father, but from others,’ said Arutha. ‘Father has changed the history of the Kingdom.’ He fell into a thoughtful silence. ‘It can be a difficult thing to be the son of a great man.’

Nakor said, ‘People expect much of a great man’s son.’ He put the document on the desk. ‘You want me to stay?’

‘For a while,’ said Arutha. ‘I need someone trustworthy here when this all breaks out. I need some reassurance that Chalmes and the others don’t react badly.’

‘Oh, they’ll react badly enough when they see what your father and Prince Erland have cooked up,’ said Nakor with a small laugh, ‘but I’ll make sure no one gets hurt.’

‘Good. I’ll leave next week, after I’ve seen to a few more necessary details.’

‘You need to return to Krondor?’ asked Nakor.

Arutha nodded. ‘I know my father.’

Nakor sighed. ‘I understand.’

Arutha said, ‘You have the same rooms as before, so rest and I’ll see you at dinner.’

Sensing they were being dismissed, Sho Pi rose and opened the door for Nakor.

After they had left the Earl’s office, Sho Pi said, ‘Master, what did you mean by asking Lord Arutha if he needed to return?’

‘His father ordered him to Rillanon, on a thin pretext of carrying messages to the King,’ said Nakor as they turned a corner leading to the suite of rooms set aside for them. Climbing a flight of stairs, Nakor continued, ‘Arutha knows his father is unlikely to leave Krondor when the fighting starts. He wants to see that his sons don’t stay with their grandfather.’

‘I know war is risky,’ said the former soldier, ‘but why should the Duke’s grandsons be at any greater risk than anyone else?’

‘Because it is unlikely that anyone who is in Krondor when the Queen’s fleet arrives will survive,’ Nakor answered flatly.

Sho Pi remained silent as they reached their quarters.

Erik signaled and the riders stopped. One of his scouts was riding back toward him. He had spent the better part of two months raiding the Border Barons for their best men, and now almost six hundred men rode in three columns spread out over twenty miles and a half behind him. It had been an exhausting ride, and Erik was cursing Calis with almost every mile of it, but he had his men.

Each Border Baron he had visited had read the King’s Warrant with a mix of disbelief and outrage. Each Baron was unique in that he was a vassal of the Crown, answerable to no Earl or Duke. To have a mere sergeant major of the Prince’s garrison walk in with orders to let him handpick men to be taken away, while promises of replacements were vague at best, was more than they could withstand.

Baron Northwarden had even considered attempting to hold Erik for confirmation of the order, but by then Erik had an armed company of nearly two hundred men with him and the Baron thought better of it.

At Highcastle, the Baron merely looked as if another weight had been added to his already abundant burden, and complied with a minimum of complaint. Erik suspected the company of four hundred men wearing the livery of Northwarden and Ironpass also convinced him.

They had ridden through the vast grasslands of the High Wold, home to nomadic tribesmen, herding their sheep and trading with the Barons and those small villages that survived this close to the Northlands. Several times they had found camps recently abandoned, as if the approach of so many armed men had caused bandits to flee into the hills.

After the third such camp had been encountered, Erik had ordered two of the men from Ironpass to ride advance scout. Erik found it slightly discomforting to think of any problems this far within the border of the Kingdom, but of all the lands between the Far Coast and the Kingdom Sea, those lands between the Teeth of the World – the great northern mountain range – and the boundary of the Dimwood were among the most hostile. Raiding parties of goblins and dark elves were known to have traveled as far south as Sethanon in the years before the Riftwar, and no matter the frequency of Kingdom patrols through these areas, they still remained wild and inhospitable.

They were presently riding through light woodlands, leading toward the far denser Dimwood, and now Erik had lost count of the ideal places for ambush he had ridden past.

The first scout reined in and said, ‘An armed camp, Sergeant Major. At least a hundred men.’

‘What?’ said Erik. ‘Did anyone see you?’

‘No, they post no scouts and seemed unconcerned about it; I believe they think themselves alone here.’

‘Could you mark them?’

‘No banner flew and they wore neither uniform nor tabard. They look like brigands.’

Erik dismissed the scout and turned to the man he had named acting Corporal, a sergeant from Ironpass named Garret. ‘I want a skirmish line behind us by fifty yards – half the men. At the first sound of trouble, I want them to sweep in from either side. The rest should ready themselves to hit hard up the middle if needed, by column of two. Get four of your best and ride with me.’

At least a decade Erik’s senior, the man showed no hesitation in taking orders from the younger man. Erik liked his attitude and his discipline and planned on making him a sergeant as soon as possible, because in Garret he sensed someone who’d keep his men alive.

That was the one thing about Calis’s plan Erik grudgingly approved of: the men he had been sent to fetch had been hardened by years of fighting goblins, dark elves, and bandits. Most of them were mountain fighters by experience, and it would take little to meld them into the force Erik already had under his command.

Like the trained soldiers they were, the first twenty men spread out behind Erik. He told Garret, ‘Get ready for trouble.’

Orders were passed, and Erik, Garret, and the four men he had chosen rode forward.

They slowly picked their way through the trees and came within sight of campfires. Close to eighty men lay about or stood talking in a clearing in the woods. A few dozen tents of various size were erected in haphazard fashion, and some men tended cooking fires and saw to provisions near the middle of the clearing. Erik saw baggage wagons and horses staked out near the far edge. To Garret he said, ‘This is no band of outlaws.’

The older soldier nodded silent agreement. ‘We better hit them hard.’ There was no question in his mind; they were heading for a fight. Erik wondered. While it was not quite midday, many of the men were sleeping. Erik held up his hand and spoke softly. ‘They’re waiting for someone.’

‘How do you know, Sergeant Major?’ asked Garret.

‘They’re bored and they’ve been here for at least a week.’ He pointed to a slit trench over to their right.

Garret said, ‘I can smell it. You’re right. They’ve been here for a while.’

‘And unless I’m mistaken, there’s nothing here worth waiting for, so they’re waiting for someone else to show up.’

‘Who?’

‘That’s what I intend to find out.’

He motioned the men forward and they walked their horses to within sight of the camp.

A bored soldier sat polishing his sword and he glanced up as Erik and the others hove into view. His eyes widened and he shouted.

As soon as Erik heard the man’s voice, the hair on the back of his neck stood up and he shouted to the rear, ‘Attack!’

Swords were in hands without thought and the sound of the riders coming hard filled the afternoon air. In the camp, men ran to bedrolls and pulled on armor as they could, or grabbed shields and swords, bows and arrows, and the fight began.

As Erik had planned, the column of twos rode into the center of the camp behind him just as the sweeping skirmish line encircled the camp. Men screamed as arrows filled the air and steel rang upon steel as the riders swept into the clearing. Many of the men who rode with Erik were mounted bowmen and quickly picked off targets as men struggled to don armor.

Erik rode down two men as he headed for the center of the camp. Whoever led these men was certain to be there, and he intended to find the leader before some overly eager Kingdom archer skewered him with a bowshaft.

Erik saw the leader.

The man was an oasis of calm as those around him ran in every direction. He shouted orders and attempted to bend his men by force of will into an effective fighting force. Erik put heels to his horse and charged him.

The leader sensed more than saw Erik approach, so intent was he on directing his men. He turned to see the horse and rider almost on top of him and dove to one side, avoiding Erik’s charge.

Erik turned his mount and found the man now armed with sword and shield, quickly retrieved from the ground. Erik knew he faced a tough opponent, for the man had dived in the direction of his weapons. He would not rattle.

Erik knew better than to charge him again, for to do so was to risk having the man duck under his attack and hamstring his horse. He was probably calm and confident enough to attempt that dangerous move.

His men were taking a terrible toll on those in camp, and Erik circled his opposite number, waiting. The man eyed him warily, ready for the charge that didn’t come, and Erik shouted, ‘Keep as many of them alive as possible.’

When it became clear that the men in the camp were hopelessly outclassed by those on horseback, soldiers began throwing down their weapons and crying for quarter.

Quickly the matter resolved itself in Erik’s favor, and when at last there was no doubt, the leader threw down his weapon. Erik knew that in Novindus, it was the accepted sign of surrender by mercenaries.

Erik glanced around and saw a banner lying on the ground. The emblem was familiar to him. Erik rode his horse toward the man. Garret and the other soldiers looked perplexed as the Prince’s Sergeant Major spoke in a strange tongue.

To the man, Erik said, ‘Duga and his War Dogs, if I’m not mistaken.’

The man nodded. ‘Who are you?’

‘I rode with Calis’s Crimson Eagles.’

Captain Duga, mercenary leader of one hundred swords, sighed. ‘You were to be killed on sight, and that was on the other side of the world.’

‘You’ve come a long way,’ observed Erik.

‘That’s the truth.’ He glanced around and saw his men being disarmed by Erik’s. ‘What now?’

‘That depends. If you cooperate, you’ll get a chance to stay alive. If you don’t …’

‘I won’t break oath,’ Duga said.

Erik studied the man. He had been almost a classic mercenary captain in Novindus. Clever, if not intelligent, but smart enough to keep his men alive, a requirement of any captain. He’d be tough enough to keep a surly band of cutthroats in line, and he’d be honest enough to keep contracts, else no one would hire him.

‘No oath need be broken. You’re our prisoner, but we can hardly give you parole to return home.’

Bitterly the man said, ‘I don’t even know where home is.’

Erik pointed to the southwest. ‘That way – on the other side of the world, as you said.’

‘Care to loan us a boat?’ Duga asked with bitter irony.

‘Perhaps. If you share some information with us, you might find yourselves with some opportunity to return home.’ Erik didn’t comment on how slim the chance of that occurring might be.

‘Talk,’ said Duga.

‘Start with, how did you get here?’

‘Through one of those magic gates the snake men make.’ He shrugged. ‘They offered a bonus for any captain who led his men through.’ He glanced around. ‘Though where I’ll spend it, the gods only know.’

Erik said, ‘How long have you been here?’

‘Three weeks.’

‘Who are you waiting for?’

‘I don’t know,’ said the Captain of mercenaries from Novindus. ‘All I know is the orders from General Fadawah were simple. Go through this rift thing and find a place to camp nearby. Then wait.’

‘For what?’

‘I don’t know. I just know we were told to wait.’

Erik felt a stab of uncertainty. Until the next element of his column arrived, he had almost as many prisoners as he had men to guard them, and at any moment new enemies might appear. Thinking quickly, he said, ‘Limited parole. You’ll not be harmed, but we won’t let you ride away. We’ll negotiate better terms when we get to our camp.’

The mercenary considered it for a moment, then said, ‘Done.’ With obvious relief, he shouted to his men, ‘No more fighting. Now, let’s eat!’

Erik once more was amazed at the attitude of mercenaries from Novindus, who treated conflict and fighting as jobs, who faced men across the line one day who might have been allies the year before, and might be again someday, and who carried little or no ill will as a result.

Erik motioned to Garret and said, ‘After things settle down, make camp and let the men eat.’

The Sergeant from Ironpass saluted, and started giving orders.

Erik stretched in the saddle and felt as if every bone were jangled out of its joint. His backside was sore and he couldn’t remember ever having been this tired. With a silent groan he dismounted and, smelling the food on the fires, realized he was hungry.

Before beginning the questioning of the prisoners, he paused once more to curse his Captain. He started to tend his horse and again paused a moment to curse Calis.