Trumpets of War

II

Captain of Elephants Gil Djohnz did not care much or think much of the title that Tomos and the rest had hung upon him, but with no arguments affecting them, he had had to just learn to live with it. He routinely and deliberately ignored officers’ calls, and when a runner was sent to summon him, he would brusquely snap that taking proper care of elephants was a full-time job and that, in consequence, he lacked the time or the inclination to sit around a table, guzzle wine or brandy, gossip and listen to some blowhard announce the latest set of asinine pronouncements dreamed up in the feather-stuffed heads of soft-headed captains of desks, up in the citadel of Mehseepolis.

Of a day, he was summoned to Sub-strahteegos Tomos Gonsalos’ new office inthe but recently completed headquarters building. Once he was there, in working clothes devoid of any indication of rank and powerfully redolent of the elephant lines, Tomos greeted him warmly, seated him and, with his own hands, poured him a large mug of fresh, frothy milk—still warm from the cow and yellowish with rich butterfat—then went back to his own chair and goblet of spiced, watered wine.

Gil tasted then drained off the mug gratefully, wiped off his lips with a soiled, sweaty sleeve, refilled the mug from the pitcher, cut himself a hefty chunk of cheese from the small wheel on the officer’s desk, then settled back into the chair, smiling.

“Tomos, you should’ve been Kindred. You don’t look like a damned Ehleenee and most times you don’t think like one, either. No real Ehleenee would’ve ever thought of calling me over here for fresh milk and sharp cheese, not ever, for no reason.”

He chuckled. “Not that I don’t know damned good and well you’ve got you a damned good reason for doing it; it’s that sly, devious Ehleenee part of you coming to the surface.

“So, my sharp-eared friend, what’s the reason?”

Tomos squirmed in his chair, then said, “All of you Horseclansmen exercise a disconcerting bluntness that is often difficult for us more effete, civilized Ehleenoee to bear. We’ll get to my reasons in a bit, but first, how is our fourth elephant coming along?”

Gil smiled. “Growing like a weed; he’s already near to my waist at his withers. And he keeps young Bert Vawn hopping trying to keep up with him, too.”

“Has he decided on a name he likes yet? We need one for army records,” said Tomos.

The captain just shook his head. “The little scut changes his mind every other day, it seems. Over on the lines, we just call him Tulip’s Son . . . when we aren’t calling him Bert’s Brat or some less complimentary things. He needs to learn discipline, that one.”

Tomos looked down into his goblet for a moment then, swirling the purplish liquid about. When he looked up, he said, “Gil, my friend, armies need and must have discipline, too, in order to function, to even exist. Soldiers are not required to like the orders and routines of army life, but they are required to live their lives by those very routines and to never fail in following those orders; to not follow orders, to break routines, these are crimes in any army, crimes known under the general heading of insubordination, and they are and must be dealt with most harshly, lest discipline break down completely and an ordered army become only a mob. Rulers establish armies so as to have a force upon which they can depend to maintain peace and order within their realms, and a trained, tightly disciplined army can always be depended upon by those who raised it and maintain it. A mob, on the other hand, cannot be depended upon to do anything or to be anything other than an ever-constant danger.

“Now, in order for a stringent discipline to work properly and smoothly, it is important that the lower-ranking members of an army be constantly made aware that all those of higher rankings are also bound by the strictures of army discipline and routines and orders. Any soldier, of whatever rank, who makes it clear by his attitudes or actions that he considers himself to be above playing the old army game by the ancient rules immediately becomes a weak, rusting link in the chain that binds the army together; moreover, that rust is very contagious to other links, so it cannot and will not be allowed to remain and spread, it must be eradicated, no matter what the cost.”

Pausing for a moment, the overall commander of the Confederation force lifted his goblet and took a draught of the spiced wine before looking Gil dead in the eye and saying, “You, friend Gil, are such a weak link in my army, and thereinlies a problem that seems almost insoluble. Were I to send you away, back to Kehnooryos Ehlahs, as I have been advised to do by members of my staff, then I most probably would be well advised to send the elephant Sunshine with you, for I seriously doubt that she would be good for anything here without you.

“On the other hand, however, Gil, I—and we, the army, the staff, the command structure and the Council of Thoheeksee—cannot any longer afford to abide your flagrant insubordination, for although loss of you and thereby Sunshine would weaken our army, loss of discipline would weaken it far worse.”

Now become aware of what Tomos was getting at, of why he had sent for the captain of elephants this day, Gil was on the verge of making a reply, but the commander held up a hand, palm outward. “No, I know exactly what you mean to say, Gil. You did not and do not want to be made an officer. Why, Gil, I never could’ve imagined that a man of the pure water that I know you to be could be guilty of such a form of stubborn and arrogant selfishness.”

Gil spluttered, his face darkening with anger, his hand unconsciously seeking the hilt of the dirk he was not just then wearing.

Tomos ignored the appearance and movements of his subordinate and spoke on. “Gil, I hold a county near as large as a duchy, two cities, seven towns and a fine hall. I’ve not seen my lands or my family save for all too brief snatches in six years, yet when my overlord’s new overlord—High Lord Milo Morai—placed the weight of this command upon me and ordered me to march it down here for who knows how long, I did so with as good grace as I could muster and with a smiling face, for it would’ve been most insubordinate to have behaved otherwise to one of my superiors in both civil and military rank, don’t you see.

“I desired this awesome and onerous responsibility, this protracted absence from my personal responsibilities and my family, every bit as much as you desired to become our army’s captain of elephants, but I accepted because of loyalty to my overlords, and even if I should never again see my ancestral lands, my home hall or my family, I would do the same again.

“Gil, your three war-elephants are no less an important unit of this army of ours than are Chief Pawl’s horse-archers, Komees Portos’ lancers, Guhsz Hehluh’s heavy foot, Lord Bizahros’ light foot or Komees Mahrtios’ pioneers and artificers. Because we knew you to be a steady, reliable sort, you were selected to become the officer in command of the war-elephants. Reflect on the facts if you will, Gil. Your own High Lord it was who ordered you to bring Sunshine down

hereand serve with her in our army. Not so? He placed you and all the rest under my command; therefore, when you disobey me and my staff, when you openly flaunt your disobedience to my orders, you are actually disobeying the orders of your own High Lord. Understand? I would imagine that High Lord Milo will be most wroth if I do find it necessary to send you and Sunshine back to him, as I must do you not mend your ways immediately and begin to act and comport yourself in the manner of a unit commander.

“Were there an experienced war-eleplant officer about, I would be more than happy to give him the command post and responsibility and let you go back to being what you were, just anotherfeelahks, but we have thus far not discovered any elephant officers who survived that debacle in Karaleenos and no one of our messengers has as yet come back from the source of most war-elephants, the triple duchy of Meelohnhohra. You have my word of honor, Gil: the moment that a trained and experienced elephant officer enters this camp and this army, you will cease to be captain of elephants, but until then, please do me and your High Lord the great favor of cooperating with us and helping to win over this vast, rich land for our Confederation.

“Will you do that for us, my friend?”

Newgrass, the Iron Mountain elephant, unlike the other two cows, Sunshine and Tulip, had a pair of thick, eighteen-inch tusks. She was as much larger than Tulip as Tulip was larger than Sunshine, yet she unquestion-ingly accepted Sunshine as leader of the small herd. There were enough differences between Newgrass and the others to make Gil certain that they were of two different strains of elephant.

The most readily obvious distinctions were that where Sunshine, Tulip and Tulip’s Son customarily carried their heads low so that the arch of their backs was the highest part of them, Newgrass’ back was almost

concavefrom withers to rump and her head was therefore the highest part of her. Nor were the ears the same as those of the other elephants, being significantly larger and rounder; her head did not bulge out into domes at the temples, as did the others, either. And there were other, less readily apparent points of difference, such as Newgrass’ total lack of the protective flap of skin over the anal opening.

But the bigger cow’s mindspeak was just as good as that of the smaller cows and she seemed to be every bit as intelligent. Her new Horseclansman feelahks, Sami Skaht of Vawn, had never had any trouble or disagreements with her since the first day that Gil had made the introductions between them.

Newgrass had been fully war-trained at Iron Mountain, which state used both bulls and larger cows for such, and watching her perform her maneuvers told Gil what he needed to know about the training of Sunshine and Tulip, whose primary function had always been that of mere draught animals.

When the bright, willing animals had learned all that Newgrass had to show for her training, Gil asked Tomos Gonsalos to seek for him an appointment to speak with Thoheeks Sitheeros of Iron Mountain .

To Gil, who like all his Kindred had been virtually born in the saddle, it seemed distinctly strange to be riding a horse after so long of riding only his elephant. At fifteen-two, the gelding was sleek and powerful, yet he seemed tiny and very delicate to his rider.

Gil’s officer’s garb passed him easily and quickly through the gates of Mehseepolis, and the small folded square of vellum with its impressive gold-wax seal saw him duly admitted to the outer courtyard of the ducal palace, where a liveried groom was quick to hold the head of his horse while he dismounted, then lead the beast away. At the entrance to the citadel, a courteous but firm junior officer of the Council Guards relieved Gil of saber, dirk and both daggers, hung the weapons carefully on a wall hook among a host of other edge weapons, then waved him on to a functionary who unfolded and read the pass.

“The Thoheeks Sitheeros’ office is adjacent to his suite, Captain. His grace’s suite is in the palace proper, but you would likely be wandering half the day before you found it. Wait a few minutes and I’ll send a man who knows his way with you.”

This much said, the functionary did nothing, said no more, just stood, a slight smile on his lips. Gil had been told in advance by Tomos what to expect, so though it went against his Horseclans grain, he dug a silverthrahkmeh from under his belt and placed it in the soft palm of the outstretched hand, only to see all trace of a smile disappear and become an incipient frown. He dug out another silver coin to place beside the first, and the frown became a bit more nebulous. But it was not until fourthrahkmeh-pieces were upon that palm that the trace of a smile returned to the dark, slightly greasy face of the functionary.

The boy who arrived shortly to lead him to Thoheeks Sitheeros’ office, though looking to Gil just about old enough to begin warring, had he been a Horseclansman, already bore visible scars that could only have been made by sharp steel and moved as if he had spent much time under arms; moreover, there was an honest, no-nonsense air about him that was far more mature than his body.

Gil made to dig out a couple of silver pieces, but seeing this, the boy shook his head vigorously. “My lord Captain, I am not like unto these larcenous, bureaucratic swine, always rooting for silver. No, it is my great honor to serve my most puissant lord, Thoheeks Grahvos, who provides all my needs and more. Come, I will take you to Thoheeks Sitheeros, captain.”

When the lad had knocked, introduced Gil by name and rank to a pair of armed guards, then handed the letter to one of them, he bade Gil a courteous goodbye and went back down the hall at a brisk walk.

Gil rendered the gray-haired thoheeks a military salute in the classic Ehleen fashion. He liked the look of the middle-aged nobleman—firm jaw and chin with a spiky, gray-streaked chinbeard, the scars of a warrior on his face and hairy arms, expressive black eyes and lips whose corners showed the clear traces of frequent smiles; the thoheeks’ body was thick and powerful-looking, all big, round muscles, loaded shoulders, hips almost as wide as his shoulders, but with the legs of a horseman, for all.

The thoheeks’ garb was very like that of a Horseclansman—short boots of tooled leather, tight leather breeches, an embroidered shirt of heavy silk, broad tooled belt with a massive silver buckle. He wore large rings on one thumb and threefingers, and up close the flat gold chain held onto his shoulders by brooches and hanging down onto his broad breast could be seen to be fashioned of little golden elephants, all joined one to the other at trunk and tail.

Although two braziers were glowing with coals, the marble-walled chamber was decidedly chilly, and Gil was glad to accept the steaming spiced wine proffered by a servant.

As the manservant was padding out, the thoheeks ordered, “Hohfos, tell my man Drehkos to bring a hooded velvet robe for me and one for Captain Gil here, too.”

Then he waved Gil to a padded chair. “Sit you down, Captain. Our Hohfos will be back shortly with cheeses and other oddments. Not only am I ever glad to meet another admirer of elephants, your visit today gave me a rare chance to get away from the boring details of Council. I tell you, Captain, had I not pledged to stay here until planting time ...” The big man sighed gustily and shook his close-cropped head.

“But tell me, Captain, how do you people stay warm in winter in simple hide tents?”

“We don’t, Lord Thoheeks” Gil replied. “We don’t live in tents at all, except on hunting trips. Our homes are yurts, made of wood and hides and canvas and many layers of felt. So warm are they that even in the most bitter weather, a mere lamp will often render them so hot that vents must be opened to maintain comfort. Such winter warmth is unknown to you Ehleenoee, Lord Thoheeks . . . but then of course we barbarians have never attained to full many of the wonders of your sophisticated civilization.”

The thoheeks stared hard at Oil for a long moment, then his lips began to twitch, then they bent upward into a grin, and when the man knocked, then entered with a tray of foods, followed by another man bearing two long, thick robes, Sitheeros was laughing uproariously, his face red and tears squeezing from out his eyes.

With visible effort, he sobered in the presence of the servants, though the stray chuckle still escaped him now and then, while the smaller trays were laid out on the table, brandy and smaller goblets fetched from a cabinet, the two of them helped into the warm robes and their chairs moved to opposite sides of the table.

To the departing servants, he said, “Tell the guards that if the city should suddenly be attacked, they may disturb me; otherwise, I am not available to anyone for any reason.

“May I call you Gil? ‘Captain’ is so formal, and I truly like you.” At Gil’s nod, he went on. “Good, then call me Sitheeros, Gil . . . when we two are alone, of course; one must keep up appearances, otherwise. Yes, rank indeed hath its privileges, but its full weight of firm responsibilities far outweighs its few middling privileges, I’ve always felt.

“Although you gave me the first good laugh I’ve had since I came to Mehseepolis by your manner of cool, politely phrased insult, you were completely right, completely justified in saying just what you did say. We Ehleenoee have always boasted and bragged to everyone who would or could be compelled to listen of our civilized and progressive culture. At one time, there was assuredly a reason for such boasting, but most Ehleenoee of the recent past and of today have scant reason to boast of anything, although it pains me to say it, it’s true.

“We’re most of us a static culture, really less civilized in certain important ways than many of those peoples we slander with the name ‘barbarian.’ For too long, we have been of the firm mindset that our way must be better because it was the way of our ancestors who conquered these lands hundreds of years ago, and so we have been too proud to try to learn ways that might be new and better and easier and more efficient that the old ones.

“Take this ducal palace, for an example, Gil. This is your classic Ehleenoee palace, and a blind man could see that it was never designed for comfortable, year-round housing in a climate like this one. No one now alive knows whenever and wherever this design originated, but 1 will guarantee that it was not here, not in the onetime Kingdom of the Southern Ehleenoee, but in a clime that was far warmer.”

The thoheeks pointed a finger up at the plaster mouldings that decorated the ceiling and held the chains of the brazen lamps.

“Gil, there is no room in the living section of this palace that is lower than three full mehtrahee, and some are far higher, and this is fine and cool and breezy in hot weather, but in winter, there is no earthly way to adequately heat such rooms, especially when those rooms have cold stone walls and floors. Believe me or not, the rooms in the citadel yonder are far more comfortable in cold weather than are any in this palace. And the reason why is simple—they have lower ceilings, hardwood floors mostly, few and narrow windows, they’re generally smaller, and many contain hearths built into the walls which will burn logs as well as coal or charcoal—and I am moving into a suite over there immediately it is prepared and furnished to my taste.”

“Is that what you did back at Iron Mountain, Sitheeros?” asked Gil. “Did you move into your citadel of winters?”

The burly man shrugged. “I don’t know how they made out there back in the bad old days, just suffered through it, I’d guess, like the folk here do. But we of Iron Mountain have always been somewhat different from your average lowlander Ehleenoee, Gil. We’ve always been willing to try new things and see if they might work better than our traditional things and ways.

“When, during the Great Disaster of three hundred-odd years ago, our palace first shook down, then burned, my many-times-great-grandsire—for, you see, unlike the case with most of the lowlander Ehleenoee, the title and lands have never left my family since first we wrested Iron Mountain and the other lands from the folk who then held it—sought out certain ancient ruins he had recalled seeing in travels and on hunts, studied the principles of the smokehouses and the barns wherein tobacco is cured, then drew up plans and saw to it that his new palace was built just as he had envisioned it.

“Since then, Gil, the entire central wing of our palace has been heated by fires burned in huge iron kahmeenohsee in the cellars.”

Gil wrinkled his forehead and asked, “Your pardon, Sitheeros, but that is one Ehleen word I’ve never heard before. What is a kahmeenos?”

The thoheeks smiled good-naturedly. “Of course you haven’t heard the word; I don’t know of any other Ehleenoee who use anything like it. Look you: imagine if you will a mighty iron caldron, far higher than a man big enough around to fit six or eight standing men into; imagine a thick iron grill fitted into it as a platform on which to burn fuel—mostly earth-coals, of which our mines produce a plentitude—with an iron door just above it to feed in fresh fuel, then imagine an iron sheet some foot or so beneath to catch the ashes and cinders and another iron door at that level to allow them to be pulled or shoveled out. That is akahmeenos, Gil.”

Gil shook his head. “But I still don’t understand how this device can heat an entire palace.”

“That was the true genius of my ancestor, coupled of course with his willingness to try new things, think ideas no Ehleenoee had been willing to think before him,” replied the thoheeks. “Look you, Gil, when a fire is burning, the smoke usually rises. Do you know why?”

Gil looked puzzled. “Hmmm, I never really thought on it, it was just something that happened because it had always happened. Why?”

The thoheeks grinned maliciously. “Keep up that line of thinking, Gil, apply it to everything, and before long you will be the true equal of any sophisticated, civilized Ehleen. Heat alwaysrises, Gil, and smoke rises because of the heat it contains. My ancestor had hollow spaces built beneath the floors and inside the interior walls of the new palace he built. Inside those spaces he had installed wide tubes of thin copper and iron and brick clays all leading up from one or the other of the kahmeenohsee. The heat rises up from them into the tubings, you see, and the heat radiates upward and outward from them to heat the rooms and chambers, even the corridors. In the worst of the cold times, the stables of both horses and elephants are heated by more recently built kahmeenohsee, as too are the barracks of the Iron Mountain Guards.”

The thoheeks took a sip of his brandy, then said, “How I do carry on, Gil. But surely you did not seek a meeting with me to talk on such matters as these. What did you want of me?”

“Sitheeros,” began Gil, “the elephant you gave to the army, the cow who now calls herself Newgrass, has imparted to us all that she can remember being taught of elephant behavior in battle, but ...”

Looking and sounding excited, the thoheeks leaned forward. “So, it’s really true, then? You can actually mesh your mind with those of beasts? I had thought the tale but another of these things told by craftsmen to shroud certain of the tricks of their trades.

“Then please tell me why that cow refused to accommodate herself to a new feelahks when her original one died of fever. Why she stamped the new feelahks into blood pudding.”

“Yes, I asked her that, Sitheeros, and she told me. It was because the man who died did not die of fever, he was murdered by his wife and his brother, who was her lover. He was also the replacement feelahks, and Newgrass’ killing of him was understandable revenge. Her only regret now is that she was never able to get at that murderous widow.

“Newgrass has a feelahks now who is, like me, a mindspeaking Horseclansman, and she has never given him the slightest trouble.

“But back to my reason for asking you to see me today. Are our three elephants to be an effective addition to our army, they will have to be as completely trained as possible, and as matters now stand, I have no way to do that. You have done a great deal, given a great deal, already, but let me ask you to do a bit more, Sitheeros. Please loan us the skills of your elephant master from Iron Mountain . Newgrass has no memory of his name—elephants’ minds, like those of horses, just don’t work along those lines—but she says that he has fairer skin than most folk up there.”

The thoheeks shook his head in wonderment. “Now I truly believe, Gil, there is no way I now could disbelieve your talents. True, someone of my retinue just might have given you a description of Master Laskos, who trains the Iron Mountain elephants. But there is no one down here at Mehseepolis with me who could possibly know of the foul murder of Vat feelahks, months agone. It was quite by accident that the business came to light, and that very soon before I left Iron Mountain .

“The widow had been given a menial job at the palace, you see, after her husband’s demise, that she and the children might eat and be sheltered and clothed. She took a fall down the full length of a steep staircase and ended it, injured unto death, almost at my very feet.

To me she admitted her guilt in the death of her husband and swore that it was his ghost had pushed her from off the top step above. She lived only moments after that fall, and I alone heard that confession, you see. One of her children is quite bright and promising, so ere this I have told no one of the fact that his late mother was a confessed murderess.

“So, all right, I’ll send for Master Laskos. He can be easily spared at Iron Mountain just now, though he must return in the spring, with me. He was captain of elephants for the late King Hyamos, was in large part responsible for the famous defeat of Zastros’ first rebellion at the Battle of Ahrbahkootchee; King Fahrkos, who succeeded King Hyamos, declared Master Laskos outlaw and put a price on his head, and he fled to the northern mountains and, eventually, came to work for me. Fahrkos lacked either the will or the force of loyal, dependable troops to go to Iron Mountain and take him from me, and Zastros had no interest in him. Mayhap you can teach him how to mesh his mind with those of elephants, eh? That’s a knack I’d like to know myself, for that matter, Gil. Not only would it be a useful talent to have, just think of what the having of it would mean for a ruler such as me: people will often say things in front of what they call ‘dumb beasts’ that they never would mention around other people, so I could have an internal intelligence-gathering apparatus that would put those of my peers to shame . . . and all for the price of elephant feed, which I’d have had to provide anyway.”

However, long before the elephant expert could arrive from Iron Mountain, a trumpet of war was sounded. Summoned to the command center with the other captains, Gil and the rest were briefed by Sub-strahteegos Tomos Gonsalos and certain members of his staff.

“The Ahndros family was almost wiped out in the last two decades, gentlemen; only two of that blood remain extant now. One is a grandniece of the last thoheeks, the other is a son of his half brother. This man, one Hahkmukos, was recently confirmed Thoheeks of the Duchy of Ahndros by the Council, yet when he journeyed down there to take his place, they threw him out of the palace and city and chased him and his party clear out of the duchy; a number of his retainers were slain, and Hahkmukos himself was sliced up a bit here and there.”

“Hmmph,” growled Captain Ahzprinos, commander of a regiment of light pikemen. “I know that Hahkmukos of old. Too bad the bastards didn’t slice him a bit deeper . . . say, just under his pocky chin.”

Captain Bizahros, who commanded the other regiment of light pikes, nodded. “Yes, the Ahndros wine was always the best, but Hahkmukos is—to be most charitable—the stinking dregs of it, and I can’t say that I fault the folk of Ahndropolis; I wouldn’t want him for my overlord, either.” He turned to the tall, spare, saturnine man seated nearby and asked, “You had some trouble with the bugger, as I recall, didn’t you, Portos?”

Captain Thoheeks Portos’ dark face turned even darker, his strong, hard hands clenched at the memory, and he nodded. “Yes, that I did, and I voted against his confirmation, too. But such are matters within that duchy that my civil peers felt the pig to be the lesser of two bad lots, and he was more than willing to trade oaths to the Council and the Confederation for the titles and lands . . . though just how much sworn oaths mean to a creature like him is a matter that only time will tell.”

“If you three gentlemen are quite finished your gossiping and name-calling and death-wishing of 77zo/iee/cs-designate Hahkmukos,” said Tomos sarcastically, “I will say this: Your likes, dislikes and opinions do not, in this case, own the value of a bucket of horse piss. A brand-new government simply cannot afford to allow an instance of this sort to pass, nor do they want Hahkmukos to do it the old way—raise a private warband and try to take the duchy and city by raw, brute force—that is precisely the sort of personal warmaking that must quickly pass out of fashion is the rule of the Council to prevail.

“Therefore, Thoheeks Grahvos, speaking for the Council, has ordered this day that a powerful force be sent back into his new duchy with Thoheeks Hahkmukos, nor is the force to return to Mehseepolis until the new thoheeks sits installed in his new buildings and has gathered a modest number of armed retainers to insure his safety.

“Any of you who feel that you could not do a soldier’s job, could not follow orders and give support to this man who owns the support of Council, may say so to me, either now or in private, later, and I’ll brevet one of his subordinates to command his unit until it is once more back here. But, for now, please leave off the insulting comments and hear us out, for I have promised that the force will be on the march before the end of the week.”

Captain Komees Theodoros’ now-deceased overlord had held a duchy which had shared a long stretch of border with the duchy in question, and so he was familiar with the land and the people against whom they would soon march. He was a staff officer in Tomos Gonsalos’ headquarters.

Peering nearsightedly at a sheaf of notes he had brought to the briefing, the gangly, snubnosed man finally brushed his thinning hair back from off his forehead and said, “Gentlemen, the lands of the House of Ahndros provided well for centuries. The principal exports were maize, some wheat, tree fruits, cider and cider vinegar, swine, cheese, freshwater pearls and some cotton and cottonseed oil. As is to be expected, of course, the exports during the . . . ahh, disturbances of the last fifteen or twenty years have been negligible to nil, but the potential and the lands still remain.

“There is but one real city in the duchy, although there are, or rather used to be, quite a number of towns—some walled, some not—and villages, most of the latter abutting the holds of noblemen. The lands were marched over, overrun and sacked repeatedly during the bad times, there as everywhere else, naturally; I would assume that all the villages and unwalled towns fell and were burned, or were abandoned and later burned—that’s what happened elsewhere.

“At least one of the walled towns, which happened to be fortunately situated—defensively speaking—held out through it all, never falling to any assault. Ahndropolis, however, was not so lucky. Bare months before Zastros marched through, headed westward, showing his strength and garnering more, a ragtag collection of broken noblemen, sometime soldiers, gutter-scrapings, rural bandits and the like besieged the city, finally undermined part of a wall, then stormed and almost took it. They finally were driven out, but it was, I understand, a close and a very chancy thing, and the survivors were still skulking about the duchy when Zastros came marching through. He killed some and dragooned the others into his force, then marched on.

“It was during that affray that the then thoheeks and most of his near relations died, either of wounds or starvation or disease. After Zastros was gone, the city folk asked the husband of their late thoheeks’ grand-niece to come and be their city-lord, and he left his hold and walled town and did so. He has held it ever since, it and the duchy, too, though he has never come here to be confirmed in either his actual civil rank or that he has assumed.

“Now, the city of Ahndropolis is but slightly smaller than is this Mehseepolis; however, it is not so naturally defensible, being built on lower ground and protected by the river on only two sides. Those who have recently been there say that the undermined section of wall has been rebuilt—the foundations sunk clear down to bedrock, this time, so the townsfolk aver—and that the defenses have been made somewhat stronger in other small ways, too. Engines of several sorts are said to be evident upon the walls and defensive towers.

“This all could bode ill for an attacking army, save for one thing: The losses of people in the last twenty years have been stupendous, and unless soldiers are hired on and brought from beyond the lands here in question, that young would-be lordling simply will lack the armed men to defend so long a circuit of walls and other defenses. Therefore, it is my considered opinion that, seeing the force brought in against him, he will make to treat rather than simply slam his gates and fight.”