King Of Zunga

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

There had been a light rain the night before, so the Rulami army raised no dust clouds to mark its advance. But King Afuno had thrown out a swarm of scouts well to the north of his own army. These formed a broad arc across the Rulami line of advance. He would not be taken by surprise. The Rulami army had hardly broken camp and begun to file out of the forest when the messengers began coming back with their reports from the scouting line.

King Afuno sat on a hide spread on the ground in the shade of a small tree, listening to the reports as they came in. Beside him stood Blade and Nayung. Both now carried new-style spears adorned with the double tuft of blue feathers that marked Great D'bors.

«I can think of no two men in all the army of Zunga who deserve the rank more,» Afuno had said the night before as he handed them the spears. «In fact, if there was time to call a meeting of the War Council, I would raise Blade to On'ror in place of that traitor we have now sent to his fate. But there is no time for that. We will be giving battle tomorrow morning at the latest.»

And now it was tomorrow morning, and it was obvious that they would indeed be giving battle before the sun rose much higher. Afuno nibbled on a piece of bread and swept the crumbs from his lap onto the ground as he listened to the latest report.

«That makes at least fifteen thousand men facing us,» he said to Blade. «Are there likely to be many more from Rulam?»

Blade shook his head. «Not impossible, but not likely either, Your Majesty. They have to leave a large force at home to prevent rebellion among their conquered cities and their slaves. And both King Kleptor and Queen Roxala have probably left their best men in Rulam, each to watch the other.»

«Probably,» said Afuno, sourly. «I hope you are right, Blade. With fifteen thousand men of Rulam, we will be facing twenty thousand or more when the army of Kanda joins them. And we are less than eighteen thousand now. There will be no more coming in before the battle. And we have little or nothing left at home to defend our towns if we lose. We are playing for high stakes in this battle, Blade-will Zunga survive or not? I hope your plan works. More depends on it than whether you become king of Zunga or not. Much more.»

«I know, Your Majesty,» said Blade. «But it should work. I've seen what good fighters with the new spears can do to even the best Rulami soldiers. So have you. And I know what will happen if we behead the enemy's armies. We will loose intrigue and treachery among them like a plague. They will be too busy fighting civil wars and each other to worry about us in Zunga for many years to come. Consider what would happen to Zunga if you were killed, Your Majesty. Then consider that among our enemies things will be ten times worse.»

Afuno grunted. Blade wasn't sure whether the king agreed with him or was simply trying to shut him up. Nayung shook his head. «All this is well and good, provided that the Kandans actually unite their army with that of Rulam, so that we get a chance at both leaders.»

«Indeed,» said Blade. «But I do not think they will have any choice. The only man in Rulam who can speak to the Kandans and be listened to is King Kleptor. And similarly, the only man in Kanda who can be taken seriously and obeyed by the Rulami is the High Priest himself. They will not dare to fight separate battles, for fear of being defeated separately.»

«Or of being betrayed by their ally,» said Nayung.

«Or betrayed,» said Blade with a nod.

Afuno rose. «Enough of this gabble about what may be or must be. Let us go forward and see what is. That is what we must face, and that is what can kill us.» He picked up his two war spears and motioned to his eight guards. They fell in on either side of him. Blade and Nayung brought up the rear, and the whole little group turned north, toward the Zungan battle line.

That line formed an arc more than a mile from end to end. It was divided into three divisions, each of about five thousand men under a Great D'bor. Of the men in each division, four thousand stood in the main battle formation, nine ranks deep. The rest stood in reserve in the rear of the division, and this thousand included a proportion of men armed and trained with the new spears, about five hundred to a division. Each division formed an independent unit, that could advance or retreat as circumstances demanded. The right-flank division was drawn back a little, since the Kandan army was expected to appear from that direction.

Except for the presence of the men with the new spears, there was nothing about the arrangement of the three divisions that had not been standard Zungan tactics for many generations. The three divisions included all but about three thousand of the army's men.

Behind the main line lay the reserve, all three thousand warriors in it armed and at least somewhat trained with the new spears. That was the army's secret weapon, its shock troops-and Blade's. It was the beheading sword he intended to swing at the armies of Rulam and Kanda. With Kleptor and the High Priest dead or possibly captured, there would be chaos in both enemy cities, their alliance would fall apart, and there would be no need to risk the lives of Zungan soldiers killing the Rulami and the Kandans one by one.

That was the chief reason for Blade's plan. If there had been no more reason for it than to make him famous among the Zungans, he would never have proposed it. But it also promised a swift, decisive, and long-lasting victory over Zunga's enemies, perhaps without as long bloody battle that would waste the Zungans as much as their enemies. To defeat their enemies' armies in the field would be no victory for Zunga if their own ranks were demolished in the process.

So the Zungan army stood in its battle formation under the rising glare and heat of the sun. Blade noticed many of the warriors looking upward toward the clear blue sky. It was a good omen, to be fighting under a clear sky. The Sky Father could look down upon his people, watch their fighting, see and approve their courage. The good weather was lending the Zungans extra confidence. Blade was glad of that. He himself was a great deal more on edge than he cared to admit, even to Afuno or Nayung.

The thud of drums and the off-key wailings of flutes off to the right heralded the arrival of the Kandan army. It was more numerous than Blade had expected-the mass of men looked nearly seven thousand strong. Red shields among the black and white ones showed where a fair number of Rulami soldiers had been included in the Kandan ranks, to stiffen them. But still, the Kandans must have stripped their walls almost bare of fighting men to make up their army to such a size. If the Kandan field army died in today's battle, the city would be a plum ripe for plucking. Blade told himself not to count his victories before they were won, and stared north, watching and waiting for the army of Rulam to appear.

He did not have to wait long. Within a few minutes he saw the Zungan scouts coming back, sprinting for the safety of their own lines. Then the sun glared on acres of polished armor moving down from the north, and the army of Rulam flowed into view. They were as well trained and disciplined as the Zungans, far more so than the Kandans, and made a fine show. They were also taking formation in three divisions of five thousand soldiers each. But their divisions stood one behind the other. High above the second division rose Kleptor's own red banner. One of the Zungans' principal enemies was in the field. Where was the High Priest?

Then the Kanda flutes broke out again, their discordant wailing setting Blade's teeth on edge as they broke the silence of the waiting armies. To the left of the Kandan army a small cluster of figures appeared, bearing above them a black banner with the white tower badge of the Priests of the Ivory Tower. The red banner of Rulam started to move, moved toward the Ivory Tower banner. A body of Rulami soldiers broke out of their second division, escorting a litter. Even from where he was standing in front of the Zungan lines, Blade could make out the obese figure of King Kleptor in the litter. The two big fish were swimming into the same pond.

But not now. Blade had no intention of leading his shock troops straight into the jaws of the enemy's armies, particularly when those jaws could close so easily. Let the enemy make the opening move, come to the Zungans, and be immobilized. Then would be the time to strike. But would the Rulami attack?

The Rulami did not attack, but orders must have gone to the Kandan army. In a few minutes it began sidling slowly around toward the Zungan right, with a great uproar of drums and flutes and shrill war cries. Its commander was moving it as a single mass, not trying to divide it for greater flexibility. Considering the quality of Kandan soldiers, that was probably wise-dividing the army might have caused chaos rather than improved flexibility. But it made a formidable body of men slipping toward the Zungan flank.

Afuno barked an order, and messengers dashed off. The Great D'bor of the right-wing Zungan division in his turn snapped orders, and the division began to wheel toward the right, facing the Kandans. if they had planned a flank attack, they abandoned it when they saw the wheeling movement. Once again the three armies stood in their places under the hot sun. The silence was broken only by occasional shouted orders and the murmur of voices among the less-disciplined Kandans.

Afuno came shouldering his way through the Zungan line and moved up to stand beside Blade. His guards followed him and took formation around him. They were plainly unhappy about having the king standing out here in plain sight of more than twenty thousand enemies. Blade felt much the same way.

«Your Majesty, don't you think you should get to the rear?»

«Why? Those bastards over there look like they're going to stand and look at us until the carrion birds think they're dead and come down to nibble on their ears and noses.»

«Maybe. But I think they will attack soon.»

«Perhaps you are right. Do you want to take command of your force now?»

«With Your Majesty's permission.»

«You have it.»

Blade turned and dashed back through the Zungan lines, to where the three thousand shock troops waited. They would not be committed to the head-on collision of the two battle lines that Blade expected. Rulami tactics would probably take them straight to the Zungan center, planning to break through there and then wheel to the left and the right with the following divisions. In such a mob scene the Zungans' discipline would make their traditional fighting style effective enough for a while, as long as they held formation. And the enemy's massed ranks would in any case be less vulnerable to the new Zungan techniques. But once either side broke its formations open…

Blade ran up to Nayung. «The king has said we can move.»

«Good. Where do you want us to go?» By royal command Blade had absolute control over the shock troops and could move them at will.

«The king and the High Priest are on their left.»

«So is the whole Kandan army, Blade.»

«I know.»

Nayung looked sharply at him. «Blade, are you sure you are not too concerned with vengeance on the High Priest? Vengeance for a girl you knew for barely an hour?»

«Nayung, I am not such a fool. The High Priest is the weak spot of all Kanda. I would be aiming for him if his life was as blameless as a maid's.»

Nayung shrugged. Whether or not he was convinced, he was obviously prepared to obey. «Then-«

Before Nayung could get his suggestion out of his mouth, the trumpets and drums of the Rulami sounded in a hideous, thundering brazen chorus. Following hard on their heels came a series of harshly bellowed orders. Then the sunlight flashed again as the lead division of the Rulami began to move forward.

They came down against the Zungans at a walk that soon became a run. Their swords struck fire into Blade's eyes as they flashed in the air, and the repeated blasts of their trumpets drowned out even the thunder of ten thousand marching feet. They struck the Zungan center with a hideous metallic crash and a chorus of screams as spears and swords took their first victims. Blade saw the Zungan center reel bodily backward several yards, then steady itself as its D'bors hurled threats, curses, and encouragements at their men. A forest of waving spears sprouted above it as all of the first three ranks went into action.

Blade turned to Nayung. «They've committed themselves to the attack on the center. At least for now. We'll never get a better chance.» He did not mention his fears that King Afuno had been unwilling to retreat behind his warriors before the Rulami charge hit the Zungan line. The whole plan depended on cutting off the heads of the enemy's force-it would be sheer folly to lose the Zungan's own leader.

But it was a folly that Blade could do nothing about now. He gave his orders and a thousand of the shock-troop spearmen wheeled about and broke into a run, heading for the extreme right flank of their own army. To take the whole force would be foolish-and hopefully unnecessary. The men of the right-hand Zungan division waved and cheered as Blade's men pounded past. Then the thousand were out in the open, curving around toward the north again, toward the Kandan army.

They had better than half a mile to cover, but it was level ground, open and hard, and the Zungans were running as Blade had never seen them run before. How they found breath to shout was a mystery to him, but they screamed threats and curses at the Kandans as they ran. Blade saw the Kandan army clumping itself to meet the charge. He grinned. The fools were expecting a frontal attack, and not extending their flank to their left at all. Time for the end run.

Blade found the breath to shout an order, heard it relayed by Nayung, and saw the entire mass of running men swerve hard to the right. They passed along the front of the Kandan army so close that Blade could see the pale, drawn faces of the enemy soldiers. They were clutching their swords like drowning men clutching branches, and there was fear in their eyes as they listened to the curses and war yells of the Zungans.

Before the slow-moving Kandans could block their path, the Zungans were clear around the flank of the Kandan army. Looking along the enemy's rear, Blade saw the little cluster of figures around the two banners less than another five hundred yards away. He took deeper breaths and lengthened his stride.

He did not expect the enemy to simply sit and wait while a thousand Zungans charged their commanders. He knew that his thousand might get in without help, but they could never get out without it. But he was certain that surprise and speed and their own fighting skill would give the Zungans the edge over any defense the enemy could improvise for his generals. Enough of an edge to bring down those generals, Blade hoped. Again he lengthened his stride.

The Kandan army seemed paralyzed by the spectacle of the Zungans tearing down along their rear. Not so the Rulami. Blade heard the trumpet calls rise, and saw soldiers pouring out of the second Rulami division to form a circle around the two banners. He saw them begin to move back, and if he could have lengthened his stride still more, he would have. But his strength and his wind had reached their limits, and he could move no faster. But neither did he slow down. He was still moving at full speed as he led his thousand men into the ranks of the Rulami soldiers. Again there was a terrible noise of metal and screaming men as the two formations clashed. The Rulami had thrown a circle six ranks deep around their king, but the Zungans nearly broke straight through it by sheer impact. A section manned by more than a hundred men was hurled violently backward by the Zungan charge. The two outer ranks simply vanished, stamped out of existence under the Zungans' feet or smashed down by whirling spears. Rulami and Zungan bodies piled up in a hideous bloodstained shrieking tangle. With Nayung beside him, Blade charged the inner ranks of the Rulami.

He was a terrifying spectacle as he lunged and thrust and swung with his spear, eyes blazing, mouth open to shout savage war yells, splattered with the blood from the smashed skulls and the crushed chests of his victims. A Rulami officer ran at Blade, thrusting with his sword. Blade leaped aside, swinging the weighted butt of his spear down across the man's lunging arm. Bone cracked and the sword fell. Blade's spear butt flashed up and took the man under the jaw, again smashing bone. The officer's mouth spewed blood and fragments of teeth and he fell back, opening a gap in the third rank. Blade plunged into it.

He parried a downcut from the left and thrust the soldier in the throat, jerking the spear free in time to ram the butt into another's armored chest. This blow did not kill, but it stunned and slowed. The spearhead came over and did the killing as it drove into the man's open mouth. Another rank penetrated.

Now it was Nayung's turn to move into the lead, and he cleared two more men out of the way with swift strokes. Not as quickly as Blade, for the two men were better opponents. But they both went down. The gap they made let Blade through into the last rank of the circle, spear whirling like a machine, the head and butt both dripping red by now.

A windmill slash outreached a soldier's sword and laid his face open, cheeks and nose gaping red above his screaming mouth. The swinging spearhead smashed into the side of another man's helmet, not doing any direct harm but knocking him off balance. Nayung took advantage of that to smash the man's thigh, then stamp on his face as he went down into the welter of bodies on the ground.

By now Blade and Nayung were only the tip of a wedge. It was a wedge of darting Zungan spears wielded by shrieking Zungan warriors. The pressure of a thousand fierce men was driving the wedge into the protective circle. The circle was beginning to sag, crumble, and collapse. Over a third of its men were down now, and the Zungans were killing the Rulami faster than they could reinforce their circle. And then Blade and Nayung burst through the last of the six ranks and into the center, where Kleptor and the High Priest stood.

If either of the two men had vanished into the Rulami ranks before Blade charged in, they would certainly have escaped. But Blade entered the center before they realized the nearness of their danger, with Nayung hard on his heels. Both dashed for the far side of the circle, to get behind the two enemy leaders. The two attackers reached the far side, then turned on Kleptor and the High Priest.

The two leaders stood for a moment, frozen by surprise. Between them and their only line of retreat stood Blade and Nayung, even bloodier, even more terrifying than before. On all other sides the circle was steadily crumpling under the Zungan attack, and nothing but certain death awaited them. Even as they stared, three soldiers of the inner rank gave way before a dozen Zungans. The Zungans poured through the gap and hurled themselves on the handful of guards and attendants that stood close around the two fat men and their standards.

Then Blade and Nayung attacked. For the moment they did not worry about guarding their backs, though an entire division of Rulami soldiers stood behind them. Their entire world was the two men in magnificent robes, standing like carved images as the battle swirled around them.

Blade and Nayung thrust together at the first soldier to charge them, smashing his sword out of his hand. Brave or mad, he charged Blade barehanded, got under his spear, grappled with him. But Blade did not have to drop his spear. Nayung's spear butt flashed in an arc and smashed the back of the soldier's neck. Blade shoved the sagging body away from him savagely and moved on. He had to block a downcut so strong that it took both hands to hold the spear. Then he slammed the spear shaft forward across the swordsman's throat, splintering the larynx. He felt a man behind him, aimed a backward thrust by sound alone, and was rewarded by a thud and a gasp.

But the Rulami were breaking out of their division's ranks and moving up behind Blade. Nayung did not wait to be asked. He spun about and leaped across until he was behind Blade, facing the main body of the Rulami, guarding Blade's back as the Englishman plunged on into the ranks of the bodyguards. The two men he was after still did not move. Were they paralyzed with fear? Or did they still hope their guards could beat off both Blade and the Zungans?

Blade didn't know and he didn't care. As he broke through the bodyguards at last, he saw the High Priest turn pale. The man turned to flee, then raised his hands to heaven when he realized there was no place to flee to. But Kleptor was made of braver material, for all his grossness. He drew a sword five feet long and came at Blade, swinging it in both hands.

The first swing of that sword smashed into Blade's spear and all but smashed it out of his hands. Blade wanted to jump back, for here was a weapon against which he might not be able to defend himself. But there was no room. He and Kleptor were like the proverbial two scorpions in a bottle. So he moved forward as fast as he could, driving in under the sword, risking everything on his speed. If that speed could take him in under the sword before it came down…

His spear rose high, held crossways in both hands. The sword came down, again jarring Blade to the marrow of his bones as it struck the spear shaft. But he held onto the spear, and slammed the tough wood of the shaft down across Kleptor's forehead. The king wore no helmet. The sledgehammer blow made him reel. The sword rose again, but it was wavering now. Blade swung up his spear butt, knocking the sword away, then thrust down. There was a thick layer of fat over Kleptor's ribs, but the downstabbing spear point got through the fat, between the ribs, and into the king's heart. The wide-set eyes rolled up in the fleshy face, the pudgy hands came up and clawed at the beard. The mouth opened and blood spurted out all over the beard, over Blade. Then the king fell.

Blade turned to the High Priest, spear flashing up again. The High Priest still stood. But as Blade's sweat-dimmed eyes focused on the man, he saw that the High Priest still stood only because he was supported by half a dozen Zungan spears thrust into his body. A seventh Zungan warrior strode over to the High Priest's banner and shoved it over. It fell down with a silent-thud, lost in the roar of the battle all around. Blade did the same with Kleptor's banner.

Whether that alone was what brought victory, no one could tell later. In the exact moment that the banners fell, the Great D'bor commanding the Zungan right ordered his whole division forward at the charge. The commander of the remaining two thousand shock troops followed. Blade could not see the seven thousand Zungans hurling themselves at the Kandan army, but he heard it when they struck. And he saw the results. The entire Kandan army lurched backward, nearly trampling Blade's force to death by sheer numbers. But the Kandans' morale had gone, and they were only interested in reaching safety by the shortest route.

By chance and the skill of the Zungan charge, that route lay through the ranks of the Rulami. The panic-stricken Kandans smashed into the ranks of their allies, breaking them apart, dying on Rulami swords, communicating their own panic to the Rulami. As word of Kleptor's fall spread through the Rulami, their second division began to waver and leak stragglers. Then it broke, and before Blade's eyes the entire center of the Rulami army dissolved into a mob of scattering fugitives.

Blade neither joined in the pursuit that Nayung led, nor held his men back from following Nayung. He watched the warriors he had led to victory go tearing out across the plain after the fleeing Rulami, and then turned toward the Zungan center. He had seen and heard nothing of what might be happening there, since he had led his warriors out for their charge. He badly wanted to fund out what had happened to Afuno.

He had to wait a while longer, because the stouthearted soldiers of the Rulami first division did not break and flee. The Great D'bor of the Zungan left had to finally lead his division around and encircle the Rulami. Even then the sound of clashing weapons and dying men rose into the air for the better part of half an hour. When it faded, another third of the army of Rulam lay dead. The Zungans took no prisoners.

Blade was finally able to rise and walk toward where he had last seen Afuno. If he had wanted to, he could have walked every foot of the way without touching the ground. The bodies lay that densely, both Rulami and Zungan.

He was approaching a circle of Zungan warriors standing in the middle of a particularly thick patch of bodies when two things happened. A blinding pain stabbed through his head, making everything go black in front of him for a second. The computer had lunged like a spear at him across the dimensions. It had missed this time, but the next time would come soon. He would be on his way back to Home Dimension soon. But there was still more that he had to do here, damn it!

He was still shaking his head, trying to clear the spots from in front of his eyes, when the Great D'bor who had commanded the center division came up to him. The Zungan's left arm dangled limply, slashed open for much of its length and roughly bound up in blood-caked cloth. But his voice was steady and urgent as he spoke.

«Blade, King Afuno has been wounded.»

Blade swallowed. «Badly?»

The Great D'bor nodded. «The Sky Father has laid his hand on him and will take him soon. He wants to speak with you before then.»

Blade nodded and followed the Zungan. The circle of warriors opened to make a path for them, then closed behind them as Blade knelt beside the king. The Sky Father's hand was indeed on Afuno. His mahogany face had paled, and the piercing black eyes had softened. Looking down at him, Blade could see why. Any one of the gashes that crisscrossed Afuno's belly and thighs would have been sufficient to kill. That he was still alive now was a miracle. And that he was able to speak was a still greater one.

But he did speak.

«Blade, will you obey me?»

«You know that I will, Your Majesty.»

«Good. Soon-soon you will not have to obey anyone at all-anyone except Aumara,» The king managed a faint smile. «Even kings must bow to their wives at times. But you-will be king in Zunga.» He beckoned the Great D'bor to him. «Swear by the Sky Father.»

«I swear.»

«You are-witness. Witness according to the-laws of the Sky Father.» Afuno's voice gained strength, and for the last time it came out as the voice of a king as he said the ritual words. «I, Afuno, King of Zunga, find Richard Blade of the English, Great D'bor of Zunga, most worthy as consort and king with Princess Aumara. Say you yea or nay?»

«I say yea, oh, King,» said the Great D'bor.

«Good.» Afuno's voice faded. «The Sky Father keep you, Blade.» The last effort had exhausted him. Presently his eyes closed, then his breathing stopped. The Great D'bor knelt beside him and spread a cloth over his face, then remained kneeling, tears running openly down his cheeks.

Blade was not far from doing the same himself. But, he knew there remained still more to do before he could accept calmly the computer's snatching him home. He turned to a warrior. «Go quickly, and summon the Great D'bor Nayung and the Princess Aumara. I must speak to them.» The tension must have showed in his voice, because the warrior stared at him.

«Is the hand of the Sky Father on you, King Blade?»

Blade started at being addressed as king. «Not yet, but it may be soon. The Sky Father deals in strange ways with those of the English. Go quickly!»

«There is no need to summon me,» said a familiar voice from behind him, and he whirled to see Aumara standing there. She held out her hands. «Zunga is ours, Blade. Or rather, it is yours. You have broken all our enemies and offered them up to the Sky Father. This is the greatest victory in all the history of our people. And my father-did he. ?»

«He lived long enough to see it, Aumara. And he found me most worthy to be king after him. Will you have me?»

She came into his arms. «When I bear your child within me? How could it be otherwise, even if I wanted it?» Tears began to trickle down her face, cutting paths in the dust that caked it. Blade lifted her face to his and kissed her on the lips. They stood for a time in each other's arms. Then Blade stepped back to arm's length and spoke quickly.

«Aumara, I must tell you this now. The hand of the Sky Father may be upon me also. If it is, I want you to choose the Great D'bor Nayung as your next consort. He is a wise man and a good one. He will do well for Zunga, and justly for our child.»

Aumara nodded, reluctantly. «He is what you say. But the Sky Father will not lay his hand on you, Blade. Not you and my father both. He has no thought for Zunga if he does so!»

Blade shook his head-then stiffened as another tentative pain struck through it. «No, Aumara, I am the Sky Father's creature. I have come from him, and I must go to him when he calls. He is calling me now, Aumara.» He reached out his hands and took Aumara's, clutching them hard as another stronger pain hit him.

Then Aumara screamed, and the scream seemed to echo endlessly and terribly in a great hollow chamber. Blade saw Aumara blur and waver as if he was seeing her through a sheet of water. Her face was turned toward him. Her staring eyes were gleaming as they had done that first night on the plain. They kept on gleaming as the rest of her faded away into a blur, kept on gleaming as the field and the strewn bodies were swallowed up, kept on gleaming-gleaming. Then they winked out like fading skyrockets, and darkness slammed down over Blade.