The Usurper

6

In the cold light of the moon, amidst the black shadows of leafless branches on the snow, the two tracks of the Herul sled were fresh, deep, and sharp, and black on the side shielded from the light, and the edges of the craters left behind by the paws of what we, for want of a better word, will call horses, had not yet crumbled.

“Might the Heruls not return by the same route?” asked Tuvo Ausonius.

“I think not,” said Julian, of the Aureliani, putting his shoulder to the harness of the small sled. “Heruls are clever. Tracks may be seen, and a return by the same route might facilitate an ambush. Little love is lost between Heruls and Otungs.”

“Otungs range outside the forest,” said Tuvo.

“Undoubtedly,” said Julian, “and, I suspect, though less often, Heruls enter it.”

The explanation for this seems to be that the Heruls are a horse people, so to speak, and ill at ease afoot, and certainly amongst the darknesses of the forest, where archers might lurk undetected in the shadows. Heruls would prefer expanses, such as the plains of Barrionuevo, or, as they will have it, the flats of Tung, venues congenial to the sudden appearances, the rapid movements, the feints, the charges and withdrawals, the encirclings, of light cavalry, seldom choosing to close with a set, prepared enemy.

“The trees grow more frequent,” said Tuvo. “Surely the forest is near.”

“It may be hours away,” said Julian.

One gathers that little has prepared denizens of sparser, more open worlds, denuded worlds, so to speak, those unfamiliar with original, natural worlds, to anticipate the nature, the breadth and density, of the forests commonly found in the northern latitudes of Tangara. Indeed, the Otungs, the Wolfungs, and such, as earlier noted, were all tribes of the Vandalii, the etymology of which term is apparently related to “van land,” or “forest land.” The Vandalii, then, despite the more recent semantic accretions, perhaps unfortunate, of the word, and related words, are perhaps best understood as the “forest people,” or “people of the forest,” such things.

The unwillingness of Heruls to penetrate the forest in large numbers, to transgress it in force, so to speak, aside from its preclusion of their common tactics, is understandable. The empire had lost divisions in such locales.

“When the tracks turn,” said Julian, “the Heruls will have discharged their mysterious passenger. At that point, the forest, or an Otung enclave, at least, will be near.”

“There will then be danger,” said Tuvo.

“There is danger now,” said Julian.

“Our most pressing need,” said Tuvo Ausonius, “is not to encounter an Otung enclave, which might prove our misfortune, but to make contact with the expedition sent to support Captain Ottonius.”

“It is the intent of the expedition to make contact with Otungs,” said Julian. “Thus, one hopes the two matters will coincide.”

“There may be many Otung camps, or halls, or villages,” said Tuvo.

“True,” said Julian, grimly.

“Presumably the imperial camp will now be in place,” said Tuvo.

“Almost certainly,” said Julian. “And it need not search out Otungs. Otungs will recognize its presence, and, doubtless, make the first contact.”

“A bloody one?” said Tuvo Ausonius.

“Perhaps,” said Julian.

“The expedition, in place, camped,” said Tuvo, “will be relatively impervious. It has armored vehicles, and hoverers. It will have a defensive perimeter. The area will be guarded, and flooded with light.”

“One expects so,” said Julian.

“At the camp we will be safe,” said Tuvo.

“We do not know that,” said Julian. “The danger there may be greater than here, in the forest.”

“We are not assured,” said Tuvo, “that we will find the camp.”

“No,” said Julian.

“The expedition may not have followed the course set in Venitzia.”

“Possibly,” said Julian.

“Perhaps we will not find it,” said Tuvo.

“Perhaps, not,” said Julian, leaning forward, straining against the harness.

“It might have been attacked, and overrun,” said Tuvo.

“Pull,” said Julian. “Pull.”

The two men continued to press forward, in the still-fresh tracks of the Herul sled.

“Masters,” said a woman’s voice, behind them.

“She is awake,” said Tuvo.

“Masters draw the sled,” said the voice.

Nika, bundled in her fur, and in her boots, slipped from the sled. She struggled to match the pace of the men.

The shallow, brittle snow continued to crackle beneath the boots of Julian and Tuvo.

“I remember nothing,” she said.

“You slept,” said Julian.

“I am awake,” she said. “Harness me.”

For much of their journey, Nika had drawn the sled. This was appropriate, for she was a slave.

“Remain on the sled,” said Julian.

“Masters?” she asked.

“Or you will be left behind,” said Julian.

“Yes, Master,” she said, taking her place on the sled.

Julian and Tuvo continued to follow the tracks of the Herul sled.

“Masters!” said Nika.

“We hear them,” snapped Julian.

In the cold, frosty air, the baying, even far away, was clear. It was most dangerous when the baying stopped, for then they were close, and approaching silently.

“They may alert others,” said Tuvo Ausonius. “They will arouse suspicion. They will mark our position.”

“We will proceed,” said Julian.

“Otungs, or Heruls,” said Tuvo Ausonius.

“Or imperial troops,” said Julian, “anticipating our presence, and intent to intercept us.”

“To bring us safely to the camp,” said Tuvo.

“Or guarantee,” said Julian, “that we will never reach it.”

“The baying is louder now, closer,” said Tuvo.

“Continue on, pull,” said Julian.