Madman's Army

Chapter III

Captain-of-squadron Vahrohnos Bralos of Yohyültönpolis, the officer chosen to lead the twenty-four lances sent east to meet and guide on to Mehseepolis the High Lord and his contingent, soon had proven himself to be a man after Thoheeks Sitheeros’ heart. He was accompanied by a young lieutenant, one Pülos of Aptahpolis, when he made his call upon the Thoheeks of Iron Mountain. When all three gentlemen were seated and served and the slaves had departed the room, when all of the ritual courtesies had been observed, the captain got down to business.

“My lord Thoheeks, Sub-strahteegos Thoheeks Tomos Gonsalos has seen fit to afford me the impressive honor of leading two dozen of my lances to meet and escort the High Lord Milos Morai of Kehnooryos Ehlahs, of Karaleenos, of the Pirate Isles and of some barbarian principalities the names of which I cannot seem to get my tongue around. It is my understanding that the Lord of Iron Mountain is to accompany my unit with a number of his servants and bodyguards. I must know just how many men and beasts will be in his party that I may make arrangements for providing proper provender for all and may organize my order of march. It also would help me to know the numbers and sizes of wheeled transport my lord presumes to take along.”

Sitheeros shrugged. “It was my understanding, Captain, that this was to be a fast-moving column on the eastern leg, at least; therefore, I meant to keep my baggage to a minimum—no carts or wagons at all, only a dozen pack-mules and most of them merely to bear grain for them and the horses. I’m an old campaigner, Captain, I’ve probably spent more years in a saddle on the march than your lieutenant has years of life. Including the two muleskinners, I’ll have nine servants and eight of my armed retainers, Tenzee barbarians. My remuda will run about twenty head of horses and a few extra mules.”

The captain exchanged a glance with his subordinate and sighed, then said in a less formal tone, “My lord has just made my day. Over the course of the last couple of years, my troops have been right often called upon to give escort to not a few of my lord’s peers of Council, some of whom have proven … ahh, difficult to properly escort, owning precious little knowledge of or respect for the military aspects of such a mission. But I now can see that travel with my lord will be not only a signal honor but a pleasure, as well.”

With an added note of warmth in his voice, Sitheeros admonished, “You two lads drink your wine, it’s a good vintage from one of my own vineyards—a mountain vineyard, mind you, none of this water-weak and all but tasteless lowland stuff. Drink that down and I’ll have a real treat fetched up here.”

To the servant who answered his pull on a bellrope, he said, “Go tell Tailos that I said to tap the third cask on the left, the one with the elephant burnt into the wood above the bunghole, then you bring me a large decanter and clean goblets. Have a tray of sweetmeats and fried nuts and crisp breads brought, as well.”

“If it please my lord,” said the captain, hurriedly, before the serving-man had left the chamber, “the lieutenant and I cannot stay for long, I have duties in the camp …”

Sitheeros grinned and nodded. “Which, judging by my own warring-years with armies, can be done just as well in your absence by your sergeants, Captain Vahrohnos Bralos. So keep your place and drink your wine, my boy.

“Tell me, aren’t you the officer who fell into possession of enough loot to buy both a squadron-command and your presently held land and title, then managed to get himself almost hanged by order of our late lamented Grand Strahteegos Thoheeks Pahvlos?”

The captain nodded. “I am that man, my lord.”

“I would love to hear just how you were able to acquire such a treasure, my boy, in a land that had been so thoroughly plundered as had this one over the years. You need not tell me unless you want to, you understand. Yes, I’m curious about it, but I’m not ordering the tale out of you,” said Sitheeros.

“But, of course, my lord,” the captain replied. “First, though, does my lord recall aught concerning one Thoheeks-designate Hahkmukos, some years back?”

Sitheeros wrinkled his brows for a moment, then snapped his fingers with a sharp crack. “Why, certainly, the sly bastard who was Zastros’ quartermaster on that debacle up in Karaleenos. Yes, I do remember him. But he never was confirmed to that title, was he? I seem to recall that he ended being declared outlaw.”

“Just so, my lord,” said Captain Bralos. “On-the-spot investigation by Thoheeks Grahvos and the other senior officers disclosed that not only had this Hahkmukos greatly exaggerated his relationship to the direct line of descent of the former thoheeks, but he had entirely neglected to mention that he had left the thoheekseeahn of his birth under a cloud of suspicion of parricide.

“I then was a lieutenant of the staff guards—third son of a komees, with no patrimony save a decent sword, some armor and clothing and gear, a couple of good horses and damn-all else, the bulk of my fluid capital having gone toward the purchase of a lieutenancy of foot-guards. On the day of the truce and conference, my section had been assigned by the guards captain to serve as security for the pavilion of Thoheeks Grahvos. When now-Thoheeks Klaios and his gentlemen were brought to the pavilion and had had their say, Thoheeks Grahvos sent me to summon Thoheeks-designate Hahkmukos to face his accuser and give answer to the grave charges leveled against him.

“But this Hahkmukos, who was within his tent, pleasuring himself with a slave-boy catamite, refused the summons, would not even see or speak with me himself. This report naturally angered the senior officers and I was sent back with a squad and orders to shed blood if that was the only way I could bring the thoheeks-designate back to the pavilion with me.

“So we went back with leveled spears and bared steel and I had to kill the captain of Hahkmukos’ mercenary guards at the onset of it all, but with him coughing up his life’s blood in the mire, his men just melted away from the environs of that tent and I entered with a bloody sword and ‘persuaded’ Hahkmukos to dismiss his young slave and don enough clothing to return with me to the pavilion.

“Once there, this Hahkmukos was so rash as to seize a sword and attempt to violate a sacred truce by fleshing it in the other claimant, now-Thoheeks Klaios. It was at that juncture that the senior officers there present decided that the choice should be left to the Lord God, that, while Lord Klaios’ panoply was being fetched to him from the city, I should take Hahkmukos back to his tent and assist him in arming for a deathmatch to decide who would be confirmed thoheeks.

“In the drizzling, misty rain, we tramped back to Hahkmukos’ encampment, and while he used his pot, I went looking for a brace of his mercenaries to be his arming-men and seconds for the fight, but not a one was there to be found, other than the dead captain, whose corpse had been stripped of everything of value. The troop tents had been struck and the picket lines were empty. Therefore, while I was assisting Hahkmukos to accouter himself for battle, I sent two of my spearmen off to borrow a brace of saddled horses.

“My lord, that man’s armor was undoubtedly the finest that it ever has been my privilege to handle—all Pitzburk, prince-grade and king-grade, nothing less, and decorated and inletted beyond all dreams. His sword, dirk and daggers were a matched set—splendid! But as soon as he had hung his axe from the pommel of one of the horses, both of which beasts were mine—they being the easiest for the spearmen to quickly get at—he begged me give him a leg up, citing the length of time it had been since he essayed mounting in armor.

“However, no sooner was he in the saddle than he kicked me full in the face and reined about and left the camp, headed northwest. One of my men threw a spear at him but it fell a bit short, worse luck.

Then they both thought it best to see to me, to get my face out of the mud before I smothered, swooning as I was, just then.

“When I had recovered enough of my senses to walk with assistance, I reported back to the pavilion, feeling like a fool and a failure, but Thoheeks Grahvos seemed actually pleased by Hahkmukos’ demonstrated cowardice, though he did send a squad of Horseclanners out later to track him and, hopefully, apprehend him. Magnanimously, he awarded me—in recompense, he said, for my suffering and the loss of one of my horses— Hahkmukos’ fine tent and all that the decamping mercenaries and servants had left of his camp effects.”

Sitheeros grinned and nodded. “And just how much did Grahvos’ largesse amount to, Captain?”

Bralos shrugged. “Not all that much at once, my lord. Two new, sturdy wagons; I kept the best and traded the other one for the mules to draw the one I kept. Sub-chief Captain Vawn took but one look at the flashy, overdecorated saddle and horse-gear that Hahkmukos had left behind and offered me the price of a decent horse for it, and I took him up on it. I considered selling the spare helmet and such bits and pieces of armor as were left, but I ended by adding them to my own sparse panoply; the sword I left with your bodyguards was, in fact, his everyday sword—it’s Pitzburk-made, too, but only a duke-grade.

“Although he had begun to run somewhat to fat, Hahkmukos had been about of a size with me, so I just had his chests all repacked and placed in the wagon, intending to have a tailor at the base camp do such alterations as were necessary. Then I had the tent struck and reerected in the guards camp and contributed most of the victuals and wines to the guard officers’ mess. And that was that until the army was returned to the base-camp, down below-walls, save that Thoheeks Klaios made me the offer of a vahrohnoseeahn for a most attractive price … could I but raise that much money; I rendered him the thanks I knew due him, but realized that, barring some miracle, I would never even see that much silver or gold at one time did I live a century.

“We had been back for a month or so and then, of a night when I chanced to not have duties, I opened Hahkmukos’ chests and began to sort out the clothing, linens, blankets and boots. The largest of those chests was a massive thing, more than a load for four strong men when fully packed, banded and cornered and edged and reinforced with strips and studs of iron and brass, full of inner drawers and compartments. I had already found several small purses of silver in one of the drawers and so was exploring them all in hopes of finding a bit more … and I did, my lord, I did.

“The chest was sitting on one end, gaped open, and I had gone into all save one of the drawers. That one opened a fraction of a finger-breadth on only one side, then seemed to jam solidly, and I was unable to either close it back or open it, so I searched about for a blade of a sufficient degree of thinness to get into the opening and try to pry it open. Finally locating a slender dagger, I worked its blade into the opening and began to gingerly twist it. At last, the troublesome drawer came out … empty of all save three folded scarves of silk.

“But then I noted something odd, my lord. That drawer was exactly alike to the others save in a single respect: it was only about half as long. Exploration with fingers and dagger-point revealed that the recess from which the drawer had just come was no whit different from the other recesses above it—all of them being lined with high-quality cedarwood—save only that it was not so deep as were they.

“It was then that I recalled, my lord, certain details of the flight of the wretched Hahkmukos, of how when I entered his tent to help him to arm, a drawer had stood open and empty from the outer side of one of the smaller chests and of how when once that drawer had been shut, I had never again figured out how to reopen it or even fathomed just where it was located.

“Thinking again on this arcane matter, I went around to the other side, the outer side of the chest, moving the lamp so as to give me better light. There was no visible handle or mechanism, of course, but I squatted there and began to push and pull at each and every stud and band on that lid. At great length, when I was become frustrated to the point of murder and madness, a brass stud sank in smoothly under a fingertip and I heard a faint click from someplace within the lid. Keeping that stud depressed, I pushed again at every one of its mates I could reach, and when an iron one sank inward, a drawer opened slightly out of the lid’s outer face.

“I knew from the moment that I lifted the first soft velvet purselet out of the hideaway drawer that it was far too light to hold either silver or gold. When I opened the drawstrings and shook the contents out into my palm, I thought that surely my heart would cease its beating at the beauty of the large purple amethysts that rolled out.”

Sitheeros hissed softly between his teeth. “They all were bags of amethysts, then, Captain?”

The officer shook his head. “No, my lord, there was one more of the amethysts, two of sapphires, and one each of blue-white diamonds, yellow diamonds, rubies, emeralds, topazes, aquamarines, garnets, opals, and a larger bag containing an assortment of fine pearls.”

Before the captain could say more, the servants arrived with the wine and edibles, and the gentlemen kept silent until the servers were departed.

After the wine had been savored and extensively praised, Sitheeros asked, “So, Captain, there you sat with handfuls of precious gems; so what did you do then?”

The officer smiled. “After thinking it through, I went to Sub-strahteegos Thoheeks Tomos Gonsalos—I don’t think that he ever sleeps, my lord, so late can he be found at work in his headquarters on almost any night—and spread the bags of gems before him and told him the tale, then asked what I should do.

“He heard me out, examined the contents of the bags, then told me to pour us both a stoup of Karaleenos brandy.”

“Lieutenant Bralos,” Tomos said, “in addition to being a brave man and a conscientious man, you have just proven yourself to be an exceptionally honest man. Let me tell you, not many men would’ve brought this king’s ransom in gems and asked me the honorable disposition of it, not one bit of it. But you did, miracle of miracles, you did. You are henceforth proven in my eyes, you are just the sort of officer that this army needs, hell, you’re the sort of man of which no land ever has enough.”

Gonsalos took a lens from a box on his desk and used it to peer closely at one of the blue-white diamonds. “Look at this, young man. This particular stone and not a few of the others are old, very old, old beyond reckoning, for no stonesmith has ever again learned of just how the ancients cut their stones and made so many tiny smooth places upon them.”

Seated stiffly upon the edge of a camp stool, Lieutenant Bralos said hesitantly, “My lord, I had thought … Hahkmukos was, after all, the chief quartermaster for High King Zastros in Karaleenos; perhaps these stones were looted from out that land … ?”

Gonsalos just shook his head. “Oh, no, the land through which Zastros and his doomed army passed had been emptied and cleared out long before the army’s first mounted scout waded his horse across the Ahrbahkootchee River. No, these beauties did not come from out my homeland.

“So, what do you mean to do with your new wealth, my boy, keep them or sell them? There is an assortment of lands and titles just now up for sale to men of good breeding and proven character, you know, most of the parcels coming complete with hereditary titles, more or less battered holds and more or less occupied towns or even walled cities.”

“But who … where can I sell such a treasure and be certain that I’m not being cheated, that I’m getting a fair price, my lord Sub-strahteegos?” Bralos asked helplessly, adding, “My lord must see, my late sire was a komees, yes, but far from wealthy in aught save lands and children, so my knowledge of gems and gem-sellers is very scant.”

“Hmmm,” mused Gonsalos. “Let me think of it for a moment, my good Bralos.” Seemingly absently, he went back through the contents of the twelve smaller bags, lifting out a stone here and another there. When what looked to be a pool of fire lay winking in the lamp-fire upon his desktop, he replaced the bulk of the stones in their purselets and asked,

“Bralos, you mentioned that you had found silver in one of those drawers. Coin? Of what approximate value?”

“A hundred and sixty thrahkmehee, my lord, mostly of King Hyamos, though appearing new-minted still,” replied the lieutenant.

Gonsalos grinned. “Nearly a full year’s pay for a lieutenant of foot-guards, eh? But still and all, it’s a less than inconsequential piffle compared to these gems and their value. Even so, it should be enough to hold you for a few months.” His grin widened. “With careful budgeting, of course.

“Now, as you may know, my first cousin is Zenos XII, once king and now prince of Karaleenos. I’m going to send this sample lot of the gems to him. He has always had a fondness for stones of the cut of the ancients and he still owns an impressive collection of them, despite all the turbulence of the past years. I am certain that he will buy some of these samples, and I intend to ask that he obtain the best possible prices for the remainder … carefully hinting that there are more where these came from.

“As for the rest of them, I can think of no safer place for them, just now, than within that secret drawer wherein you found them. Do not breathe a single word of any of this to even your lovers or your dearest friends; if talk you have to, talk to your horse and in strictest privacy.

“Now, polish off that brandy and hie you back to your bed. The drums will roll at the usual time and you’ll be expected to perform your usual duties.”

“So, my lord Thoheeks Sitheeros,” continued Captain Bralos, “I was sought out at drill some months later, ordered to wash and change to dress uniform, then to present myself to the adjutant at the headquarters of Sub-strahteegos Thoheeks Tomos Gonsalos. When I did so, the sub-strahteegos had me ushered into his office, opened a small boiled-leather chest and counted out to me ten and a half pounds-weight of gold Zenos.”

Sitheeros whistled and shook his head silently. Each undipped Zenos of Karaleenos contained a full ounce-weight of pure gold, and the rate of exchange at the time of which they were conversing would have represented a sum of between three and four hundred thousand thrahkmehee of purchasing power in the then-depressed economy of the war-scarred, impoverished land, wherein gold had commanded vastly enhanced values.

Gonsalos had said, “My cousin, Prince Zenos, would like to see and examine another selection of similar size. Even should he not decide to buy all of these as he bought all of the first lot, he will see that you receive the top prices for them from whomever—if any man living has unlimited access to well-heeled dealers, it’s my cousin, and none of them is so witless as to try to cheat him.

“Have you decided in which thoheekseeahn you want to buy land and title, young Bralos?”

Upon being told of the offer from Thoheeks Klaios, Gonsalos had sat for a few moments, pulling at his chinbeard. Then he had nodded once and said, “You should not buy land you’ve never seen and at least walked over from a man you know but briefly. I’m going to have an order drafted temporarily detaching you from the foot-guards and assigning you to my headquarters; you’ll be taking it back to your captain from here. Bring all of those gems back with you—I’ll make the selections and lodge the rest in my strongbox.

“On the morrow, you’ll be leading out a score of my horse-guards. Your destination will be the Thoheekseeahn of Ahndropolis. If, after you’ve seen and examined the land, talked over the inherent rights and obligations of the holder and, most important, decided whether or not you can live under or even really like your prospective overlord, you still want to buy what he has to sell, you can give him the two pounds-weight of gold you’ll have carried down there and promise him the rest—in gold—when you have been properly invested. How much did he say he wanted, anyway?”

Lieutenant Bralos had replied, “One hundred and twenty thousand thrahkmehee, my lord Sub-strahteegos.”

“Hmmm, sounds reasonable, about what your average vahrohnoseeahn seems to be going for down here these days, but even so, see if you can haggle him down to a hundred thousand, my boy. Remember, rank also hath its definite responsibilities, and the folk and erections on that land will be yours, once you’re invested their lord,” said Gonsalos, adding, “And you’re probably going to have to carry those folk for as long as it takes to get the land into production again, not to mention rebuilding town walls, habitations and, probably, even your hold. Then you’ll have to furnish your hold and town residence, hire on a certain number of garrison troops and other functionaries to mind the place in your absence … unless you intend to sell your lieutenancy and retire. Do you so intend, Bralos?”

“No, my lord Sub-strahteegos,” Lieutenant Bralos had answered. “I like the army and I had actually intended to buy a captaincy-of-cavalry, could I afford it after buying land and title.”

Gonsalos had smiled broadly and warmly. “Good, good, that’s what I’d hoped you’d say, Bralos. You’re a fine young man, a good officer, and you’ll be an equally fine squadron captain, I’m sure. When you’re ready to purchase that captaincy, let me know.”

Thoheeks Klaios and his sparkling, vivacious young wife had treated Lieutenant Bralos less like a favored guest than like a loved member of the family from the very beginning of his stay with them. He could see that although ravaged, overgrown and showing the evidence of neglect, the land was basically good and, with hard work, could be put right and productive again. The walls of the town were in need of extensive repairs and the hold looked as if nothing short of total rebuilding would suffice to make it livable and defensible again; however, the thoheeks was quick to tell him of the granite quarry in his thoheekseeahn and of a few skilled stonemasons locally available; he also made mention of his agreements with neighboring thoheeksee to trade dressed stone for baked roofing-tiles and building-brick.

In the end, Bralos had been able to haggle the price of his lands and title down to one hundred and twelve thousand thrahkmehee in gold. Thoheeks Klaios not only freely gave Bralos a very favorable tax-structure for ten years into the future, but offered to have his own seneschal oversee the governance of whomever Bralos hired on to rule in his absence.

Bralos had ridden back to the camp below Mehseepolis thinking that matters had worked out very well for his aspirations to date. All now needed was his investiture, the payment of the rest of the gold to his new civil overlord, then purchase of a squadron captaincy, which last he would have scant difficulty selling to another nobleman should he ever find himself in need of the money or should he decide to retire to his lands and start the breeding of sons to inherit them and his new title.

However, thanks primarily to the press of military duties, that investiture was long in coming. By the time that he was invested, Grand Strahteegos Pahvlos the Warlike had taken over the army and begun to tailor it to his personal tastes, readying it for the march west to Kahlkopolis. He and his troop fought well at Kahlkopolis, capturing an enemy banner and receiving the personal notice and public thanks for Captain Portos himself.

But then, during the return march, Bralos, part of his troop, a young ensign of foot and some pikemen were seconded to serve as garrison for the city of Ippohspolis, loaned by the Grand Strahteegos until the new city lord could hire on troops of his own. As said new lord, knowing a good thing when he saw it, dragged his feet incessantly, Bralos and the rest vegetated for almost a year before someone back at Mehseepolis finally remembered and recalled them.

No sooner, however, were the sometime Ippohspolis garrison back in the camp below Mehseepolis than Bralos and his troopers needs must ride out with their squadron on a foray against a far-southern opokomees whose armed band had taken to raiding his neighbors round about and who had forwarded the pickled head of the herald Council had sent down to try to reason with him. Ambushed before they had even reached the border of the opokomeeseeah, the squadron had sustained heavy losses and, with Bralos and his troop covering it, had executed a retrograde movement … tails between legs.

Before he had suicided of pure shame, the captain of the squadron had effusively praised the bravery and sagacity of Lieutenant Bralos to the Grand Strahteegos, Tomos Gonsalos and Council. The humiliated officer had strongly recommended Bralos for squadron command, but by the time the squadron and the remainder of the expeditionary force had returned once more to Mehseepolis with the head of the rebel opokomees and a long file of chain-laden bandits to be gelded and put into slavery on the roads, it was to find that the Grand Strahteegos had sold command of the squadron to “a more mature man,” an officer of the onetime royal army almost as old as Pahvlos himself.

Naturally, Bralos could not request leave to journey down and be invested until the new captain had gotten to know the officers and troopers of the squadron, and by the time things had shaken down and the vacancies in the ranks had been filled, they and half the squadron of the Horseclansmen were sent off into the northwestern foothills after a reorganized band of bandit marauders which had taken to harrying certain of the border thoheekseeahnee and even raiding across the border, taking the chance of agitating the now-peaceful barbarians.

Early on in the campaign, the new captain had made complaint at the evening meal of dull pains in both arms and, sulphurously cursing the cold, damp air, had retired to his tent and bed rather early; just before dawn his servant had found him cold and dead in his bed. This had left Captain Chief Pawl of Vawn as senior officer of the expeditionary force.

The Horseclans chief had ridden up to where a gaggle of light cavalry officers stood grouped near to the dead captain’s tent while servants prepared the body for the pyre.

From his saddle, he had demanded, “Who’s the senior lieutenant of the squadron, gentlemen?”

Acting Squadron Captain Bralos and Captain Chief Pawl had found that they worked well together, a something that could not have been said for the Horseclansman chief’s short, stormy relationship with the now-deceased man who had originally been appointed senior officer of the combined force by Grand Strahteegos Pahvlos.

There followed a succession of short, vicious, bloody skirmishes with portions of the bandit band, none of the small fights accomplishing anything worthwhile, due to the fact that the bandits, when stung, retreated across the border which the Council troops had been expressly forbidden to do, for whatever reason.

At last, of a wet, blustery night, while Bralos sat in the tent he had inherited along with squadron command, poring over sketch-maps of the hills while an eeahtros changed the bandage protecting a fairly fresh sword-cut on the young officer’s bridle-arm, the guards had admitted the cloaked Chief Pawl.

After shedding the sodden, dripping cloak and hanging it in such fashion that water from it would not pond on the tent’s flooring, the slender, wiry man sat down and poured himself a measure of watered wine from the jar, swallowed appreciatively, then asked, “How’s the arm, Bralos? Healing well?”

“It hurts less and itches more, so I suppose it’s healing,” was Bralos’ reply, “but for an expert’s comments, you’ll have to ask Master Geros, here. Well, Geros, old friend?”

The eeahtros smiled fleetingly. “My lord Captain, it is progressing as well as can be expected, since the lord lieutenant insists upon using it as if it were sound, day after day.”

Sipping at the cup of wine, the Horseclansman then sat and chatted of inconsequential topics until the eeahtros had completed his tasks and departed into the rainy night. Then Vawn drew his stool closer to Bralos and spoke in hushed tones.

“Look you, Bralos, we could carry on like this until next year this time and not do anything of value up here. The few hunters that the thoheeksee have loaned us may know wild game, but they know damn-all about military operations. Winter is approaching fast and I do not want to be up here to meet it, nor do I look forward to going back to Mehseepolis with nothing but casualties and used-up supplies to show for our efforts.

“When you go after rats, you first put a brace of terriers at the bolthole before you let the ferret down the burrow. The border, up there, is these rats’ bolthole, and we’ll never scotch more than two or three at any one time until we get that bolthole covered properly, don’t you see.”

Bralos shook his head. “But what can we do, Captain? We were warned in no uncertain terms not to cross over into the barbarian lands. If only we could be certain of a time when and a place where barbarian warriors would be along their side of the border … but I can see no way for us to do that.”

The Horseclansman’s thin lips parted as he grinned. “Oh, but there is a way to do just so, Bralos. With the dawn, I’m going to be riding up there with two of my men and a local type who says he not only knows how to reach the village of the chief, but knows that worthy of old. I’m going to be leaving you in overall command, but I want you to do nothing save patrol the perimeter and not fight unless attached. The men and the horses can all use a few days of rest … and so too can you and your arm.”

“Captain, I beg you not to go,” pled Bralos. “If you do, it will be in direct contradiction to the personal orders of the Grand Strahteegos.”

Grinning even more widely, Vawn drew out an oilskin documents pouch, unwound it and fumbled through papers until he found the one he wanted, then proffered it to the younger officer, saying, “If you read it, Bralos, it states that under no circumstances is any officer of the force to lead his command across the border, even if in hot pursuit of bandits.

“Well, I am not going to be leading my command anywhere, they’re going to be hunkering down here in camp along with you and yours. I’m simply riding up there with a couple of my relatives to pay a friendly call on a fellow-barbarian chief and chew the fat with him.”

Bralos shook his head. “Captain, you are not a barbarian, not in any way such; those people up there are, and they all hate Ehleenohee. Most likely, if ride you insist, you’ll be riding to your death in those hills.”

“Oh, but I am a barbarian,” Vawn assured him. “I and my kindred are no whit different from the folk of those mountain tribes, Bralos. Yes, they ate most Ehleenee … but with good and sufficient reasons: not only did your ancestors drive theirs from the rich lands that you now hold, but your race and theirs have been more or less at war over lands ever since. It is precisely because those tribes and I are both racially and linguistically akin that I think I can talk them around to helping us eradicate a common menace: those damned bandit raiders.

“I will be taking along two prairiecats to scout and act as both hidden guards and messengers. Should both of them come back without me or any of my party, then you may be certain that none of us will ever come back and that whatever else is done about these bandits up here will be fully in your hands; Lieutenant Sub-chief Bili Vawn, my half brother, has orders to completely subordinate himself and his force to you and abide by your decisions.”

“Is there nothing that I can do or say to dissuade you from this suicidal folly?” asked Bralos despairingly.

“Did I think it certain suicide, I’d not be doing it,” Vawn assured him. “Let’s just call it a calculated risk, a quality with which warfare is riddled. But I’ve dealt with mountain tribes quite often, up north, in Kehnooryos Ehlahs, learned to speak their dialects and respect their cultures. I know and you know full well that some new something must be introduced to end this seemingly endless little war of attrition against the bandits, and I think that with a bit of help from my far-distant cousins, that new strategy can be speedily accomplished.”

“But … to so risk your very life … ?” Bralos began.

Vawn laughed. “Friend Bralos, I and you and every other officer and trooper and clansman of this or any other force risks life each time a horse is forked or an attack is ordered or shining steel is drawn or arrows fly.

“Now, I must bid you a good night and seek my blankets.” He stood up and reached for his cloak. “Dawn always comes early, it seems.”

Captain Chief Pawl Vawn of Vawn had succeeded in his aims, returned from his mountain mission with presents and a dozen warrior-guides out of the Maginiz Tribe. Then, for over a week, the force had carefully herded the chary bandits, avoiding combat as much as possible, but heading the foe in a chosen direction until, at last, the earlier-chosen time and place was reached. Then Bralos and Vawn threw every effective against the concentrated band: Bralos’ Ehleen squadron, Vawn’s Horseclansmen, some twoscore armed retainers and hunters on loan from the local thoheeksee and the dozen Maginiz fighters.

It was of course a running, mounted fight from its inception, both sides being horsemen, and as usual when the bandits had had enough, they began to stream over the nearby border. But presently, frantic, desperate men began to spur-rake frothing horses back over that selfsame border, many of them hotly pursued by grim, well-armed mountain tribesmen, both ahorse and afoot and all with certain blood-soaked scores to be settled.

Not many of the largish band survived, and of those who did, the ones who were marched south in chains considered themselves extremely blessed with good fortune, for even the gelding and branding and life of slavery toward which they were being driven was far preferable to the sure fates of those survivors who had been claimed by the tribes of the mountains.

The force and their captives happened to return to the camp below Mehseepolis at a time while the Grand Strahteegos and most of the rest of the army were away somewhere in the east persuading a thoheeks to be reasonable and seek confirmation of his inherited title from Council rather than trying to proclaim himself King and successor to Zastros. Pahvlos’ absence had left Sub-strahteegos Tomos Gonsalos in full command of the camp and such forces as remained therein.