Horseclans - Horseclans's Odyssey Part 8

The duke shook his head. "Not just to me, my boy, but to you and to Alex and to every man, woman and child in both duchies, these two threatened duchies.

"But, you were speaking of investments and sieges; well, ,there is no longer a siege. My men are packing their gear and breaking camp at this very minute. There never should've been a siege to begin with, Martuhn, I can see that now, though I couldn't then, of course. "You are my chosen son, the best of the best, my heir presumptive, the strong right arm of an old and very tired man, and I should've remembered that before I tried to bend you to my will against your own. What matters it what some alien merchant wants or does not want, really, eh? / am the real law, not that doddering, maundering old fool Lapkin.

"And I say that the boys are yours, Martuhn, now and forever. I beg you, my son, please forget or at least forgive my harsh words and harsher actions against you and them. Ill not reinstate you in your rankand lands and t.i.tle, for to my mind, you never were disenfranchised, all right?" And what, your grace, am I expected to do in return for all the largess of My Lord Sir Tcharlz, Duke of the East Bank?" asked Martuhn in tones of mock humility.

"Why, simply resume your rank of senior captain of all my infantry, Martuhn, my dear boy. Leave only enough of them here to maintain civil order and ferry the bulk of them over to Traderstown, then a.s.sume command of the town and all the troops therein."

Martuhn strove not to show his surprise and total bafflement at the request. "And what h Duke Alex going to think when one of your officers takes over his capital? Or has your grace managed to cozen him out of his duchy?" The duke chuckled. "Not quite that much, Martuhn... not yet, anyway, though that too may well come in time. No, Alex is in complete accord that you-a man, I might add,. whom he deeply respects, despite and likely because of the drubbing you gave him last fall-take command of the city and hold it against the Horseclans nomads while he and I with our cavalry try to get those Satan-sp.a.w.n into a real battle on open ground, whereon our heavy horse can fight to best advantage.

"As soon as heavy barges can be brought across and loaded, Count Bart is taking over all my lancers and dragoons. I'll be following with the heavy horse as soon as I've handled some of the more pressing affairs at Pirates' Folly. I'll be at my castle ten days, at most; that should give you time to marshal the footmen hereabouts, a.s.sign temporary duties within this duchy to ones you consider least effective for combat, and ready the rest to embark immediately my horse is landed over yonder.

"But, Martuhn, I cannot allow you to take those boys over the river. Now, hold, hold! I have a very good reason for it, and please believe me, my son, there are no hidden reasons, only the one, open one.

"Martuhn, those boys are nomads', Horseclan nomads, and those people hang together more firmly than ticks on a hound. You know the boys and love them and respect them and trust them. I do not trust them and I'll not have them placed in a position from which they might do our arms considerable damage, were they to find themselves torn between old loyalties and new. "Leave them here, Martuhn, in this fortress, and if you're still worried that I may be acting in bad faith, leave Wolf or Nahseer to guard them.

I'm no mean swordsman myself, but I'd think twice before I drew steel to go against either of those two."

Arrived back at Pirates' Folly, Tcharlz threw himself into a whirl of activities. Ensconced in his private office, he kept messengers scurrying in and out, while five or six scribes hunched over their portable tables, trying hard to keep up with his staccato dictations of messages, and the chief scribe sat at another table with a goodly supply of melted sealing wax, ribbons and the weighty ducal seal.

n.o.blemen, gentry officers and their retainers only just sent home upon Duke Alex's precipitate cessation of hostilities and withdrawal to his own, now hotly embattled lands needs must be recalled with haste; supplies and transport must be arranged for; small, speedy s.h.i.+ps must be dispatched up both rivers to try to seek out unemployed mercenaries (if, with a civil war in Mehmfiz and another war building up between the traditional rivals, Ehvinzburk and Tehrawt, there were any to be found, at any price).

He knew that he also must find time to arrange a meeting with the council of merchants and the council of s.h.i.+powners. For to pay whatever mercenaries his agents might sc.r.a.pe up, he would have to float a loan on next year's taxes, and he well knew that those two packs of skinflints were the only ones who could quickly raise the sum he had in mind. But he did not relish the thought of asking the rich, supercilious commoner-b.a.s.t.a.r.ds and arrogant foreigners for anything; he had avoided doing so in the campaigns against Mehmfiz and Traderstown, but this new calamity found a treasury virtually drained of fluid resources. Such was Tcharlz's dislike of what he knew he must do that he briefly flirted with the idea-actually, it was his prerogative to do so, if in his opinion (and who else's?) the good of the duchy required so radical a step being taken-of marching into Pahdookahport with all the armed men he could quickly gather and seizing the members of the two councils. Then he could either squeeze the monies out of them with threats of torture, mutilation and death, or hold them for ransom to be sc.r.a.ped up by their peers.

But that would be killing the goose, he reflected; the last river lord who had tried that stratagem had gotten every ounce of gold that he needed for that particular project, but while he was otherwise engaged, the merchants and s.h.i.+powners had loaded their families and portable possessions onto their s.h.i.+ps and set sail for healthier ports. Some of his Pahdookahport s.h.i.+ppers and merchants were, in fact, a portion of that very exodus. If he could only lay hands to as little as a hundred pounds of gold... But the duchy was bled white, legally, and this distasteful business seemed the only way.

The merchants' council was the first group to come to the castle, and, although their rates were as steep as he had known that they would be, they Seemed to know just how far they could push him and did not venture beyond that point; and, save one, all were in favor of extending the duke the sizable loan. The one dissenter was Urbahnos, the self-styled "Lord," though the man held no t.i.tle that any ruler along the Ohyoh River would recognize and honor. The duke wondered if it was his imagination working upon the open secret of the Ehleen's terrible mutilation that made him think to hear a higher tone to the unfortunate man's voice.

"Your grace is quick to come to us when he needs a.s.sistance-and very expensive a.s.sistance at that-but when is he willing to a.s.sist us, eh?" Old Gaib Fai, senior of the council in age, wealth and standing, spoke in his usual whining voice, constantly rubbing together hands that looked as fleshless as the feet of a bird. "Urbahnos, yer outa place to tawk to the duke lak thet. Duke Tcharlz, he's allus bin a good'un, not oncet has he evun thawt "bout doing suthin' to his honest, law-*biding merchants and factors and s.h.i.+ppers, lak a puling pocket-king I kin recawl done to me and sum others, oncet."

Urbahnos' lips twisted in a mirthless smile. 'I'd lay long odds, old man, that Duke Tcharlz has, indeed, thought about doing that very thing... and more than once; but he knows better than to commit Such a folly.

"No, the only nomads who interest me are my two dear little adopted sons, illegally held for many long months by the infamous Count Martuhn at the citadel in Twocityport Baron Lapkin himself pled my case before your grace many weeks past, and your grace at that time did promise the return of my two sweet sons-although your grace refused to force this ducal officer to pay blood price for my two valued and loyal retainers slain by this officer's troops; nor would your grace even make the effort to bring to justice my escaped slave, Nahseer-a ruthless, s.a.d.i.s.tic and highly dangerous man, who injured and robbed me before escaping.

"As for those nomads across the river, I have no fear of them for I am leaving Pahdookahport immediately your grace makes good his sworn word and returns to my loving arms my two small sons, Bahb and Djoh. My house is sold, and my animals, slaves and bulkier effects, but I refuse to be a party to this loan, not to a single bent copper of it. Do you all hear? This trouble is not my affair and I'll not be involved in it" Tcharlz inwardly squirmed for a few moments, then the perfect solution to the problem occurred to him. "Master Ur-bahnos, I have expended time and resources in attempting to obtain those boys for you, as I promised you I would; I still would be so engaged, had not this nomad threat arisen, so do not try to throw the lie in my teeth, Ehleen.

"Count Martuhn is a very stubborn man-every bit as stubborn as am I-and it is his desire to adopt those boys himself, nor does he trust you. He thinks that your plan is to get the boys out of my sphere ofinfluence and then sell them as slaves. Do you have this intent, Master Urbahnos?" Dark blood suffused the Ehleen's features and his black eyes blazed with what appeared to be anger. "Of course not, your grace! The concept is outrageous, ridiculous. I... I..." "If you'll hold your temper and your tongue for a few moments, Master Urbahnos," Tcharlz admonished, "I'll tell you and these other men-in strictest confidence, understand; if one word of it comes back to me from whatever source, my operatives will surely trace it back and excise the loose, flapping tongue-of how you may lay hands on the nomad boys.

"In all legal matters, masters, possession is now and has always been nine-tenths of the law, which is why I had to resort to using diplomacy against Count Martuhn. But if you, Master Urbahnos, were in possession of the boys and a-s.h.i.+p for points east... d"you get my drift?"

"I should just ride a coach into that citadel, I suppose, big as bra.s.s, and say, 'Lord count, I have come for my sons.' Is that it, your grace? f.a.gh, the man would let that savage, Nahseer, kill me... if he did not do it himself!" Urbahnos answered hotly.

Tcharlz shook his head patiently. "Within ten days-less than that, I hope-both I and Count Martuhn will be on the other side of the river and neither of us will be able to return quickly; the boys will be alone in the citadel with a bare handful of guards, if that. Hire you some tough men, ride to Twocityport and retake what is legally yours, man. That's what I'd do, in your boots." The next day, as he was on his way to his conference with the council of s.h.i.+powners, a few of whom were also on the council of merchants, he was approached by one of his host of b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, Sir Huhmfree Gawlin, and three other gentlemen.

"Huhmfree, lad!" Grinning, he clasped the young man's hand in his own big paw and clapped him on the back affeo-tionately. "Have you, then, raised your lances so soon? Now, here's an obedient subject for you, gentlemen-never one to dawdle when his duty calls."

"Your grace," said Huhmfree, "my force and I shall be in the appointed place at the appointed hour.

However, these gentlemen and I, we have a matter most urgent which we must discuss with your grace... in private, if it be your pleasure." The duke frowned, then shook his head vehemently. "However important or urgent, Huhmfree, it will just have to wait until I've driven off those d.a.m.ned Horseclanners, over the river yonder. At this very moment, in fact, I'm due to grovel before a pack of commoner swine for a few pounds of gold to buy me troops and horses and supplies."

"Your grace... Tcharlee?" The eldest of the group of gentlemen, a venerable, white-haired and -bearded figure with the still-erect bearing, the movements and the stance of an old soldier, stepped from the knot and extended a veined and bony hand to touch the duke's arm.

His every feature radiating true and unabashed pleasure, the duke half turned to embrace the ancient warmly. "My steel, but it's good to clap my eyes on you again, Uncle Peetu. You frequent my court far too seldom, in recent years, and I find myself often yearning for the sight of you, for the sound of your voice." "You know why I am so infrequently in public, Tchariee... ah, your grace," answered the old man softly, his faded-blue eyes misting slightly. Tcharlz nodded once, stiffly; his lips became a thin line.

"And you know that I, that we all, grieve with you, uncle, though perhaps not so broodingly as you.

Were you ever able to determine just what happened, what was the exact fate of your granddaughter?"

The aged man nodded his grim-faced head, his eyes hard and frosty as arctic ice. "I but recently learned, thanks to Sir Huhmfree's invaluable a.s.sistance, who bore sweet Mahrtha away, to where and at what powerful man's order, and I learned how and by whose hand she was murdered. I come to you seeking justice, Tchariee, although were I a younger man or were my sons still living, I'd handle the matter myself." The duke pursed his lips. "Is this the matter of great urgency of which Huhmfree spoke, uncle?"

"A part of it, Tchariee," replied the old man.

"Well, then, I'll just have to make the time," stated the duke baldly. Turning to his chamberlain, he ordered, "Sir Rahdjuh, have a keg of the dark beer and a few decanters of brandy-my private stock, mind you, man-taken to the s.h.i.+powners and make your apology that I keep them waiting. Don't go into any details with them... affairs of state, et cetera; you know it all, man, you've alibied me often enough."

"But, your grace..." the chamberlain began, until a curt gesture of the duke's hand cut him off.

"Not a word. Sir Rahdjuh! I feel the press of time as keenly as do you, but here's a man I cannot deny.

Before you were born, was Sir Peetuh Bohwlz risking his life and truly beggaring himself to help me consolidate lands and power. His five brave sons died while fighting under my banfler, and his daughter's husband suffered such grievous wounds that he has not walked again in thirty years. "But never has Sir Peetuh been willing to accept a single acre or one ounce of silver from me in return for all his and his house's sacrifices. Now he comes asking an hour or so of my time. How can I refuse him, Sir Rahdjuh?"

"But, your grace..."

"I said, not one word. Sir Rahdjuh. I have given you a task to perform elsewhere. Do your duty, sirrah!"

The chamberlain knew better than to argue with his master when his voice acquired such a tone.

As soon as most of the foot soldiers had been called up and a.s.sembled in and around Twocityport, Martuhn sc.r.a.ped together enough mounts, of a sort, to place almost a hundred of his own mercenary infantry in saddles and sent them into the countryside by squads, each in command of a veteran officer or sergeant or, at least, a corporal. Their task to flush out any sound, st.u.r.dy beggars or vagabonds and bring them back for impressment into the ranks, to recruit among the uncommitted farmers and villagers and to chivvy along supplies due but not yet delivered to the marshaling point Because the heavy horse was to embark first, Martuhn kept his infantry units camped at a short distance from the city, leaving the closer campgrounds vacant for the imminent arrival of the cavalry, the only exceptions being his own company, the garrison archers and crossbowmen and the citadel engineers, whom he suffered to remain in the citadel.

Tirelessly, he threw himself and his staff into the tasks of organizing the minutiae of the call-up and movement of above ten thousand warm bodies; inspecting weapons and equipment and repairing or replacing, where necessary; sending home any who chanced to be seriously ill or diseased, especially if their ills were of a contagious nature; ruling upon the pleas for exemption, and these were many for many of these men were but bare weeks returned home from the last campaign when summoned again; receiving and inspecting supply s.h.i.+pments, then apportioning them, marking them for the various units and for their s.h.i.+pping times.

Whenever he was not in the citadel courtyard, which was now become a supply dump, or in one or another of the far-flung camps, he could be found on the cable docks, attending to the embarkment of supplies, remounts and replacements for the lancers and dragoons of Duke Tcharlz's force already engaged against the nomads... and suffering as badly as had the men of Duke Alex, if the steady stream of casualties said anything. Nor was this intelligence unknown or unnoticed by the marshaled troops; desertions or attempted desertions rose afresh with each arrival of a bargeload of maimed, mutilated and demoralized lancers and dragoons from the fierce fighting on the west bank. All that Martuhn could do was to order larger and stronger camp-security details posted on a twenty-four-hour basis and to supplement them with roving patrols of mule-mounted men from his own company of professionals. That, and hope that Duke Tcharlz and his heavy horse arrived on time or, best of all, ahead of schedule, that he might the quicker embark his foot The "hour" was now approaching three hours, since Tcharlz had closeted himself with Sir Peetuh, Sir Huhmfree and the other gentlemen of their entourage. He had pored over the entire "testimony" of the madam, Yohahna, twice and then reread portions' a third time. The chamberlain had intruded three times; he was ordered out twice, and the third time Tcharlz had thrown his belt dagger at him. Finally, he slumped back in his chair. "Uncle, Huhmfree, gentlemen, had you or anyone else lodged such charges against some of these men, unsupported, I'd have adjudged you madmen. But how to discount such lengthy and detailed testimony... ?" "I am only sorry that there is no way I can be around to see these malefactors' dragged here to Pirates' Folly and fitted with fetters and lodged on the lower levels to contemplate until they can be brought to trial. The witness, this female monster, she still lives?"

Sir Huhmfree answered, "Oh, yes, your grace, we... I... have taken exceeding care in her regard.

Those nursing and guarding her are all my good and unceasingly faithful folk."

"Beware she doesn't bribe them, boy," growled Tcharlz. "After all in which she and these other scoundrels have been involved over the years--and not one single cent of taxes paid to me out of their nefarious enterprises, I'll wager you!-she must be richer than Duke Alex, over yonder."

Sir Huhmfree smiled like a cat with a mouse between his paws. "She already tried that, your grace, and the folk she would've bribed came directly to me. I bade them behave with her as if she'd bought them, but to demand at least a part of the bribe in advance. They did my bidding, and thus I was able to get my hands' on her hidden store of gold... all of it. And that, your grace, is how I have, this day, delivered to Sir Shawn Bailee, your treasurer, two hundred and six pounds of pure gold, about half in the form of various coin, the rest in two-, three- or five-pound sandmold bars." At this, Duke Tchariz beamed beatifically on his b.a.s.t.a.r.d, Sir Peetuh and the others. "Sir Rahdjuht" he roared. "/ know d.a.m.ned well you're out there. To me, immediately!"

When the chamberlain had edged warily into the room (he knew that the duke did not have another dagger, but all five of these knights had at least one), Tchariz, appearing to be in a rare good humor, told him, "Chase those parsimonious, beer- and brandy-swilling swine of s.h.i.+powners out of the castle. We no longer need them or their lousy monies.

"Wait, before you do that, send me my chief scribe; tell him to bring two more scribes, wax, ribbons and the seal. I'll be issuing some arrest warrants' for immediate service, so have Baron Hahrvee Sheeld stand by, and alert Master Kahks, down belowstairs, that we'll need a good dozen of his lowest, dankest, slimiest cells, plus that many sets of the heaviest fetters to be fitted and riveted."

The chamberlain nodded, rapidly making notes as the orders were given. Then he looked up and asked, "Your grace, if you will be issuing warrants, perhaps Baron Lapkin might be of an a.s.sistance? He has just ridden up from Pahdook-ahport and now waits in the anteroom of your audience chamber." At his words, the chamberlain was deeply shocked to hear a Snarled string of foul curses and epithets issue from the aged lips of Sir Peetuh Bohwlz, from whom he never could recall having heard a single harsh or off-color word. Softly, but firmly, Tchariz said, "Hold your place, and your temper, just a bit longer, Uncle Peetuh. You'll have every last gram of your vengeance soon enough. But this is a duchy of law and things must be done legally. "Sir Rahdjuh, courteously request that the learned and most honorable Baron Lapkin join us... oh, and I'll have six of my foot guards outside the door to this chamber, at once." Baron Sir Yzik Lapkin, ducal deputy for, and high judg* of, the city and environs of Pahdookahport, strode solemnly into the small chamber. When he removed his flat cap of plum velvet and cloth-of-gold, his bald scalp reflected the light of the lamps as fully as did his exposed teeth and dark eyes. Bobbing the shortest bow permissible, he nodded, "Your grace." Then his smile, which at no time went beyond his mouth, was turned toward the others. "Ah, young Sir Huhmfree and... why, my word, is it truly you then.

Sir Peetuh? Why, I've not seen you in... How long is it? Years, anyway. We two old ones should get together more often, you know.

"Sir Benedikt Railz, what in the world brings you from your lovely hall? Oh, of course, the duke's muster. And that would, of course, account for your presence, too, Sir Leeoh. But, Sir Clai, have you then recovered enough of that smashed kneecap to once more ride to war?"

Before any of them could even start to frame answers, the duke said, "Lapkin, we're about to issue up some arrest warrants for certain malefactors. Sit you down there at the end of the table. I'd have you read a copy of the testimony before the scribes arrive, that all may be in proper order." "Of course, your grace," said the baron, adding, in a condescending tone addressed to the knights, "you see, wise as is our lord, he is ever ready to seek out expert and loyal counsel."

But he had read no more than two pages when all of the blood drained from his face, the hands that began to rip and tear at the statement were seen to tremble and the voice that he finally found had developed a quaver. "Your... your grace must not, cannot believe a... a single word of... of thisl The...

the woman has obviously gone mad and... and besides, look at what she is. Harlots and madams, they... they're all liars, everyone knows that! Does my dear lord suppose that I... that for one moment I... no, my lord, mayhap these others named are truly guilty of... but not me, my lord, not meV "No, Lapkin," said Tcharlz, a hint of sadness in his voice, "I am inclined to think you guilty of all those charges, of them, and probably of much, much more which the woman, Yohahna, was unaware of or did not mention."

The baron slid out of his chair onto his knees and crawled abjectly to the duke's side. Raising his tremulous1 hands beseechingly, he stuttered, "N... no, my 1... lord, no!"

Tcharlz looked sternly down at the groveling man. "Yes, Lapkin, yes! It stand to reason, man. There is no way that b.i.t.c.h and her minions could have engaged in all but open smuggling, kidnapping and extortion and all the sorry rest without protection of them and their activities by a very powerful man. And who more powerful than a man who was, at once, my deputy and the high judge?" "My... my lord has already convicted me!" wailed the baron. "Perjured test... testimony... a trial... right to face my..." The duke's voice was become warm honey flowing over steel. "Oh, yes, Lapkin, you'll get a trial, an open trial, just as soon as I get back from Traderstownport. Meanwhile, because I suspect that you and your criminal cohorts just might take it upon yourselves to take a voyage for reasons of health, you will be availing yourself of the hospitality of Pirates' Folly. My good Master Kahks is already preparing a private room for your occupancy-a cool, dark, quiet one, wherein you may have the peace to reflect upon your treachery to me and my folk."

Tcharlz raised his voice a few notches. "Guard!"

Chapter Fifteen.

"Wolf, you will be in overall command of the citadel," Martuhn stated at a last conference in his towertop home on the eve of his departure for Traderstown. "I'm leaving you a score of pikemen along with Corporal Hailee, a couple of cooks, plus Quartermaster Sergeant Lestuh and his men. His mission is to ferry over supplies in the proper order, as we come in need of them, as well as to receive and stowand record any late-arriving consignments for the garrison of Traderstown.

"Neither he nor you will be troubled with remounts or supplies for the various contingents of horse. All those are to be handled by and through the big cavalry camp just north of the upper city; Chief Quartermaster Sergeant Renuhlz bean that onerous responsibility. I believe you two are acquainted, of old." "Aye," Wolf mindspoke to save rime, "it's many a quart I've downed with him. He be a good man, for all he's a d.a.m.ned lazy horse soldier." Martuhn continued, 'The citadel will also be host to a dozen ducal messengers and a selection of mounts for them, as well as hostlers to care for them and a farrier and his boy to keep them properly shod; princ.i.p.ally because he can both read and write, and also because I trust him in all ways, Sir Djaimz will be in charge of the messenger service."

The senior captain turned next to the hulking Zahrtohgahn. "Nahseer, your responsibility-and your only one until my return-will be the boys, Bahb and Djoh. For all that this Urbahnos has been declared 'outlaw' by his grace and is being hunted the length and breadth of the duchy, I still fear for their safety from him. Don't ever stray far from them. And both you and Wolf be d.a.m.ned careful of who is let into the citadel and of how many they number."

To Bahb and Djoh, he beamed, "Obey Nahseer and Wolf, lads, they'll have your best interests in mind."

Then, back to Nahseer, "I think it would be best if the three of you lodge up here in my chambers, for there are certain built-in safeguards, as well as a long climb, for any interlopers who might come seeking you. I'll demonstrate them all to you before I'm done. There're foods and various potables up here, and this chamber and Wolfs offer the only routes of access to the roof and its cistern."

A week earlier, Baron Hahrvee Sheeld had ridden into Pahdookahport, his belt pouch bulging with ducal warrants, and ordered the commander of the city guard to bar all gates immediately, no man or woman to enter or exit until he gave leave that they do so. Next, he had visited the office of the harbormaster and served notice that until further orders were forthcoming, no s.h.i.+p, barge or boat of any size or description was to leave wharf or dock or mooring. All with whom he spoke knew his status, and none offered arguments. When his two troops of household guards were inside the city and the last of the lumbering, ox-drawn prison wagons had rumbled through the north gate, he set about his mission.

The tough, tactiurn horseguards went through Pahdookahport in a manner akin to the proverbial dose of salts. Most of those men arrested were long-resident aliens, but not all.

The high bishop of the Most Ancient and Most Holy Church of Remembered Glory (who was also the brother-in-law of Baron Lapkin) was dragged from his palatial residence screaming at the top of his lungs, "Never would I attend or frequent such a sinkhole of inequity, I a.s.sure you. The stock that I hold was simply a good investment for church monies!" His protestations gained him nothing, however; the guards tossed him most ungently into one of the wheeled cages... after an iron "scolds' bridle" had been locked securely around his head and under his jaws to prevent him conversing with his fellow prisoners.

Right soon was he joined in the wagon by four of the other "investors." Ten, in all, of the eleven warrants were executed that day; five of the malefactors were lodged in each of two of the wagons, while the third was the repository of every ounce of gold and silver, every piece of coinage or of jewelry that the troopers could uncover in meticulous searches of the homes and/or businesses of the prisoners. These seizures, too, were performed by authority of ducal warrants, Tcharlz holding that such specie or gems or ingots would effect partial payments of the years of taxes of which he had been cheated, since no one of the men had ever reported this large hidden income. BaronHahrvee saw to it that all buildings in which the prisoners had holdings were closed, locked and sealed, the families and employees of those men he had seized being driven, w.i.l.l.y-nilly, into the streets. Port guards were posted on the s.h.i.+ps owned by the prisoners, and the grim baron ordered the steering gear chained into immobility, the crews cast out, the holds sealed. Lastly, although he bore no warrants to that effect, the baron seized every sound horse and mule occupying the mews of the soon-to-be defendants, as he knew that the duke would soon have need of every mount and pack animal upon which he could lay hands.

He and his men did not quit the now roiling city until well after dark, sweeping it from top to bottom and from end to end in an unfruitful search for the subject of the eleventh warrant; but they could find no trace of the person of Ur-bahnos of Karaleenos, hunt as they might Captain Martuhn, Count of Twocityport, felt an uncomfortable sense of gathering doom from the moment he set eyes upon the city of Traderstown at close range. The ancient walls had apparently never been higher than twelve or fifteen feet, with towers hopelessly small and placed too far apart to give each other any meaningful support in an a.s.sault.

Moreover, it appeared to have been at least a century since those walls had been afforded any repairs to speak of, and in places, mostly along the now critical western face, half the previously existing height had tumbled inward or outward, while elsewhere the stones were so loose as to rock underfoot In a conference with the two dukes shortly after the last contingents of eastern troops had been set ash.o.r.e from the barges, he said as much, in his usual, blunt speech.

"Your graces, we can only hope that the cavalry wins a crus.h.i.+ng victory against the nomads, for the city of Traders-town will prove indefensible against determined or prolonged -a.s.sault."

He went on to detail the many faults-the walls, the towers, the dearth of effective emplacements for modern engines and of convenient rallying points for the defenders.

Then he asked, "My Lord Alex, whatever possessed you to fill in that fine, broad moat? The city might have had a fair chance, properly manned of course, did the moat remain, along with a few outer defenses."

Alex sighed and shrugged. "I allowed myself to be swayed by the thrice-d.a.m.ned merchants and factors, who wanted land under the walls whereon the returning caravans could camp; they hoped that thus the caravaners would tend to stay longer and spend more money in the city and possibly have to Sell more of their goods in Traderstown, rather than barging them across to the east bank. It was greed, pure and simple, Captain Martuhn, theirs... and mine, too." "Then, too, Martuhn," put in Duke Tcharlz, "you must understand that Traderstown has not been attacked on the landward side for-what, Alex, a century or more?-well, at least for a considerable period of time." "As for those nomads," the other duke added, "they never have gathered in such stupendous numbers' before; nor has anyone ever heard of any nomad or group of nomads penetrating this far east other than in peaceful ways." "Then why do you think they're here now, My Lord Alex?" inquired Martuhn. "Well, my good captain," Duke Alex answered, "the tales of wounded and captured nomads lead me to believe that this invasion in such force is the doing of a new element, a sort of 'chief of chiefs.* He is said to be a big, tall, black-haired man from the south-which could make him a renegade Ehleen from their Southern Kingdom, but I don't think so. His name is not Ehleen, for one thing; he is called Maylo Morre' and is most probably one of those troublemaking, warmongering Mehkskuhns."

"And, be this supposition of Alex's true," added Duke Tcharlz, "we have us the answer to where these Horseclan-ners learn how to maneuver and fight so cannily. The accursed Emperador would not have sent just anyone north to disrupt our trade; no, this Morr is most likely a trained and veteran n.o.ble officer, and we're going to have to start opposing his savage horde differently, are we to win. Poor Alex here and his hors.e.m.e.n did not dream that they were come face-to-face with a professional, to begin, andthey sustained very heavy losses as a result "But now we both know. Therefore, we must utilize the textbook tactics, with an overriding strategy of getting the howling little b.a.s.t.a.r.ds into a position in which our heavy horse can get a good crack at them-a goodly stretch of flat, level ground, firm and free of brush or trees. Then well give them a fatal taste of civilized steel, I trow."

During the ensuing weeks, while the two dukes and their hors.e.m.e.n maneuvered over and through the farmlands and woodlands of the Duchy of Traderstown, parrying the thrust of nomad raids, even as they sought a means of persuading the foe to commit the bulk of his force at one time and place, Martuhn drove his men fiendishly and himself much harder in a vain attempt to ready the city to withstand the prairie horde, just in case.

For all his exalted t.i.tle, he quickly found that his real authority held only over his own infantry and that of Duke Alex. The city merchants and s.h.i.+ppers and factors refused repeatedly to tender him and his hard-working forces aid of any nature; further, they right often impeded the nonstop work by complaining formally of the incessant noise or of the occasional drunken soldier, by refusing to allow the use of needed docking facilities to galleys and sailers when the slaves manning the row-barges had been formed into chain gangs by Martuhn to work on the walls, and they kept their warehouses solidly locked, forcing all supplies for their defenders to either be s.h.i.+pped over from the east bank or to be purchased-sometimes sight unseen-for scandalous prices. Martuhn finally decided that he thoroughly despised the entire pack of venal skinflints after his first meeting with Hatee Gairee, a merchant-banker whose family owned several of the large warehouses near the docks. There were no men to spare to care for the wounded men who kept trickling in from the skirmis.h.i.+ng cavalry, and with the available medicines obtainable in Traderstown only at outrageously inflated prices, Martuhn had continued to send any injured or wounded across to the east bank, where the palace complex and several of the larger Upper Town buildings had been converted into hospitals. The river sailers and Duke Tcharlz's and Duke Alex's war galleys-which brought supplies on the western leg and took back the pitiful debris of conflict-were nowhere as capacious as the cable barges had been, and so a wounded man might lie moaning on a wharf, ill tended, robbed by city sc.u.m or nibbled at by rats, until a bottom was available to bear him to the eastern sh.o.r.e. One short visit to one of those docks, become in his mind a slice of veriest h.e.l.l, was enough to convince Martuhn that he must find a place near the docks wherein all wounded could await the s.h.i.+ps and galleys in safety if not comfort with at least enough attendants to drive off the rats and the human scavengers. He thought that one of the warehouses near the wharves would be ideal, but when he had the men whose goods therein resided approached, it was to discover that they only leased the buildings from various members of the Gairee family, commoners but extremely wealthy.

The family was, he found out, headed by a fiftyish woman, who made all decisions affecting income or outlay of any size. And she arrived at his headquarters in the style of a high n.o.blewoman-a large, ornate and luxuriously furnished coach, uniformed coachmen, postilions and outriders astride finely bred, sleek, well-groomed horses, and two little slave girls to attend her. She was a tall, very slender woman, with a wealth of gray hair, streaked here and there with strands of the dark-brown color it once had been. Her every finger bore at least one ring of gold; from her small ears depended weights of gold and gems that Martuhn was certain must be uncomfortable. The additions of the golden neck chain and pendant, gold bracelets and armlets and brooches, as well as a headpiece of golden wire set with a profusion of tiny pearls and other gems, caused the captain to reflect that the woman was no doubt wise to have armed her male attendants and riders.

Her clothing was in keeping with her ostentatious display of gold and gems, being all silks and satins and tooled, dyed leathers and-regardless of the enervating combination of thick humidity and blistering heat-fur-trimmed velvets. And she was soaked with some heavy, h.e.l.lishly expensive scent.

But despite all the rich jewelry and clothing, at close range her perfumery failed to cover the stench of ahuman body long unwashed. The few teeth remaining behind the carmine-painted lips were stinking and rotted brown, and under the dazzling brilliance of the cut stones, her clawlike hands were dirt-streaked and grubby.

Her manner, when Martuhn had outlined his needs, was blunt to the point of discourtesy. "Cap'n, this here ain't my affair nor my fancy's. Wouldn't be no fighting atall, if our pigheaded duke had done what the commoners' council had tol' him to do first off. He should oughta pay off them nomads, alia them savages don' want nothin but loot and hwiskee and a few good-lookin slave girls to screw."

Martuhn had not heard earlier of this conference. "You mean that you and the rest of the citizens were willing to pay a ransom to the nomads to prevent hostilities?"

The old woman drew a goodly breath into her bony, near-breastless chest and exploded, "h.e.l.l no, cap'n! That young fool of a duke is richer than anybody elst in this whole f.u.c.king duchy. Let him pay the frigging ransom, him and his hoity-toity n.o.bles.

"We all tolt him we'd give him good prices awn the stuff the nomads was gonna want, but aw, naw, he hadda start a-buying up hosses and mules and hired fighters and all."

Hatee suddenly thrust the four fingers of her right hand between two b.u.t.tons securing the front of her silken dress and scratched vigorously, the huge ruby of her thumb ring flas.h.i.+ng the light from its surfaces.

The stone itself was obviously hundreds of years old and had probably been scavenged from a dead city of the Ancients, for no one today was capable of cutting and finis.h.i.+ng stones in that fas.h.i.+on.

After examining the fresh layers of dirt now under her fingernails, she went on, "Cap'n, I know you means well and all, but ain' n.o.body here in Traderstown gonna empty no warehouses and get the flo's all dirtied up with blood and p.i.s.s and s.h.i.+t and puke and I don' know whatall, like them docks is right now.

You gotchew any idear what it cos' to buy and feed and put clo's awn good, strowng slaves, these days? And I reckon it'd turn out to be our slaves had to s.h.i.+ft all the stock and then clean up, after Duke Alex either comes to his senses or gits hisself kilt out yonder.

"But ni tell you what I will do for you, cap'n. I'll lease you some tarps and poles I got me, cheap. And, 'sides' that, I'll let you use some of my older slaves inta the bargain- they ain't none of 'em got what it takes to work awn no wawls, no mo', but they could all shuffle 'round enough to fetch water and chase 'way rats and all."

"And what, pray tell," replied Martuhn dryly, carefully holding himself back from the violence he longed to wreak upon the stinking flesh of this vile, vulgar, parsimonious and self-centered b.i.t.c.h, "would be the cost of your generosity?"

She steepled her stained fingers and eyed him over their apex, "Well, them tarps is almos' new and soma the poles is new, but sincet you'll be a-feeding the slaves while they's a-working for you, let's us just say a round one ounce of gol' the day, eh? Now ain' that a good pricet, cap'n?" Martuhn heaved himself out of his chair, his face gone white as fresh curds; he kept his hands tightly clenched and a vein was throbbing in his temple. "Mistress Gairee, I have been a soldier for the most of my life, living in camps and garrisons. But not even among the wh.o.r.es who follow the armies have I ever met a woman as filthy, foul-mouthed, deceitful, callous of suffering and coldly mercenary as are you."

"Well, I just love you to pieces, too, you foreigner c.o.c.k-sucker!" snapped Hatee, her brown eyes blazing. "You just as dumb as our a.s.shole duke and them s.h.i.+theaded gents of his'n, think you kin git anythin' you wawntst for free. Well, well learn you f.u.c.kheads diffrunt yet!" "Enough, woman!" Martuhn slammed the callused palm of his hand down on the desktop so hard that several items were bounced off onto the floor. His other hand came down less violently, and he leaned across the desk to meet her hot glare with a murderous look that set her innards to quaking. "Had His Grace Duke Alex empowered me to arrest citizens of my own warrant and for my own reasons, you and your overpretentious finery would presently be immured in the deepest, darkest, dankest cell I could find for you, but my powers here are limited, alas, so I must release you. However, you have well earned and you fully deserve punishment, and I think I know of one that will hurt such a stinking b.i.t.c.h as are you more than fetters and whips and hot irons. "I am fully empowered to commandeer to the duchy all riding or draft horses and mules, as well as all wheeled conveyances which might be of use to the army.

Therefore, as of this moment, your coach-and-six and the mounts of your outriders are become the property of His Grace Duke Alex of Traderstown. Upon the victory of our arms or a cessation of hostilities, your property will be returned to you, if then living or intact. Dead or destroyed beasts or items will be replaced either in kind or in Specie."

Leaping to her feet, the skinny old woman clenched both bony fists, raised her arms above her head and shrieked at the top of her lungs. But neither her screams nor her protests nor the incredibly obscene names she called him nor the tears to which she finally resorted altered Martuhn's decision. And, in the end, all of it was for nothing. The superhuman labors on the crumbling walls, the constant feuding with the merchants and the bankers, the s.h.i.+powners, the artisans, the factors and the landlords; all were for nought in the final a.n.a.lysis.

Their numbers reduced in the steady attrition of indecisive skirmishes with the innumerable bands' of raiders, in ones and twos to hidden bowmen and in larger numbers to wily am-bushers, the two dukes at long last got the "advantage" toward which they had been manuevering.

Martuhn saw it all, from start to sanguinary finish, under the ancient, inadequate walls of Traderstown itself. At the very end, when both ducal banners had gone down and the few pitiful survivors of the two duchies* cavalry were fighting desperately, their backs to the city walls, against the waves of screaming, blood-mad nomads on their ugly little horses, Martuhn used his few engines and his ma.s.sed archers and crossbowmen to drive back the foe long enough to allow a regiment of pikemen to march out, form to repel cavalry and slowly withdraw, still in formation, when the last of the battered and bleeding cavalrymen were through the gates.

Several of the surviving hors.e.m.e.n had seen Duke Alex and his bodyguards go down under a wave of nomads, while others told almost identical tales of how Duke Tcharlz, beset on all sides, had finally rallied a couple of hundred still-mounted men and personally led a charge deep into a huge knot of the ma.s.sed Horseclanners... never to be seen again. All of which tended to leave the reins of power in both duchies clearly within the grasp of only one man, Captain Count Martuhn.

As he had been certain they would, the nomads attacked a stretch of low, incomplete wall shortly after dawn on the day after the defeat of die cavalry; Martuhn's spirited defense threw them back, all four waves of them. But he also took casualties, more than he would have liked, and mostly the direct result of the inadequate defensive works. And that night he made his decision. When the last of the wounded and ill men were across the river, when all supplies and extra weapons had been landed on the east bank and when the last of the families and personal effects of the original garrison of Traderstown had been evacuated, Martuhn commenced the taking off of his troops, beginning with the now nearly-useless remnants of cavalry and their few remaining mounts.

After them he sent his service troops, then the pikemen and dartmen, saving his archers and crossbowmen until last. Early on, in the military exodus, his orders had seen all Sailing s.h.i.+ps and galleys not already in his hands seized at glittering swordpoint, and those few unusable-for whatever reason-had been scuttled or set afire and adrift to deny their use to the nomads who would certainly come swarming over the soon-to-be-undefended walls.