The Warrior's Tale Part 17

My women and even some of the sailors, who I thought would've seen everything, lined the railings. A curious seal broke water ahead of our prow, then dove and swam past underwater - so close to the surface we could see the muscles rippling beneath her smooth brown hide.

'It might not be bad,' Corais said dreamily, 'if the fools who believe in rebirth happened to be right. I wouldn't mind returning as a seal.'

I thought of saying something sarcastic, such as it'd be best to be reborn in waters that seal hunters hadn't found yet, but thought better. Corais seldom relaxed as much as she had on this day.

For the first time since his blinding, Gamelan also looked content. I chanced ruining the moment and asked if he could sense anything that might portend danger from the approaching land. He smiled and just shook his head, no.

The island looked like a curled hand, with fingered headlands enclosing the bay, and in the centre the land rose to a plateau. I guessed the island to be about ten miles long by six wide. Everything was green, so green it hurt the eyes. I thought I spied a bit of white atop the plateau, but when I searched again, I decided my eyes had deceived.

The water shallowed as we entered the bay and the ocean became a crystal blue like the finest diamond. One Guardswoman pointed, and I saw first a dolphin, then its mate, below our keel. They were swimming about thirty feet apart, and it looked as if they had something clenched in their jaws. I thought I saw glints from their foreheads, a reflection such as that which would come from a prince's diadem. Ahead of them I saw the flash of a school of silvery fish trying to escape their fate as the dolphins' midday meal. Then our s.h.i.+p pa.s.sed over them and our wake obscured the scene.

I heard a shout from across the waters. It was Cholla Yi, calling for the fleet to a.s.semble on him. Oddly, he gave his orders without an obscenity or a curse. The day must've worked its charms on him as well. Within minutes, our ramshackle s.h.i.+ps gathered, sails lowered, each rocking gently in the low waves. I could see long strands of weed and barnacles along the waterline and below. Shrouds were frayed and the s.h.i.+ps' sides stained; the planking battered, splintering. I took a moment to pray this new island would fulfil its promise of peace. We desperately needed not only supplies and water, but to beach and careen our s.h.i.+ps for repair.

Cholla Yi's orders were brief - take arrow formation, half the s.h.i.+ps as the point of the arrow, the others in line to the rear. No s.h.i.+p was to anchor or land without orders from the flags.h.i.+p. Then something most unusual occurred - he called to me, asking if I had any comments or additions. Perhaps the mutiny and its aftermath had made even a man as stubborn as he was realize there was no room for conflict among ourselves. I had only one suggestion - perhaps one galley should remain outside the bay for a few hours, close to the headlands, to make sure no hostile s.h.i.+ps were lying in wait to bottle us in this beautiful trap. Cholla Yi grinned broadly and bellowed, 'A good idea. This one will be a sailor yet. Captain Meduduth ... you're the watchman. We'll try to save any wenches or wine we find for you.'

My section sergeants had already ordered the Guard into armour and the rowers outed oars and crept into the great lagoon. At first it appeared we were the first people to encounter this paradise - which was not improbable, considering how isolated it was in these uncharted seas.

Klisura told Stryker the bay would make a perfect base for a war fleet. Stryker's lips twisted into a grin and he said, 'Aye, but for the small problem that yer'd have to sail for two small forevers before yer came upon anythin' worth thievin'.'

A few minutes later one of the lookouts posted in the chains shouted and we hurried to the rails.4 'ears some admiral shared yer view,' Stryker said.

Across the centre of the bay were buoys, studded at measured intervals. Those buoys would have been meant for mooring in even rows, rather than to chance chaos and damage by haphazard anchoring. I counted ... ten, twenty, perhaps more. A fleet, indeed, could have harboured here. Our s.h.i.+p closed on them and there was no sound, except the whisper of the wind and the splas.h.i.+ng of the oar blades as they lifted and feathered. The buoys were large wooden barrels, each connected to a cable that ran down to a greater one laid across the ocean floor. The buoys had not been in place long - the cable anchoring them was spotted with rust, but not yet covered with sea growth. It was strange, though, to see gaps in the line where buoys had broken away or sunk, with no one making repairs. It looked as if whoever laid out this anchoring had sailed away just after completing the task.

We rounded a point and saw what we all knew had to be there. White stone buildings climbed up from the water on cobbled streets, to end at a high stone wall laid against a mountain face rearing up towards the plateau.

'Naval port,' Klisura said, and I asked how he could tell.

'Merchant s.h.i.+ps need docks, or a mole at any rate, to unload cargo. Wars.h.i.+ps lie out to harbour when they anchor. Makes 'em feel safer and they can get underway faster. But if it weren't for those buoys, I'd call this port a fis.h.i.+ng village.' I knew what he meant. There was no sign of either defensive fortifications or war machines along the waterfront.

That feeling of content lessened as I realized I heard nothing coming across the water from the town. There were no cries of hawkers or children, no creaking of wagon wheels, no bawling noises from draught animals. All was still, all was silent. I saw no signs of life whatsoever. There was but one boat in the harbour, a small smack that lay half-submerged along the single dock.

'Captain Stryker,' I ordered. 'Signal the other s.h.i.+ps to heave to where they lie. The admiral will remain in command. We'll send an armed landing party ash.o.r.e first.'

After our earlier experiences, Stryker didn't argue. I ordered Polillo to a.s.semble a landing party - two boats, fifteen women.

I wasn't surprised, soldiers being what they are, fearing boredom far more than the most grisly death, to see all my best milling in an excited knot; and there were twice as many Guardswomen as I needed, including Polillo, Corais, Ismet and Aspirant Dica, who I suspected was going to become a fire breather like the worst of us. They- and the others - were looking at me like so many puppies, eyes pleading not to be left aboard.

I muttered a curse at always having to be the villain, but also found an inward smile - command may be a lonely task, but at least the commander has some sway in being able to choose who leads an expedition. I left both Polillo and Corais and put Sergeant Ismet as my second, taking Dica with me.

We clambered into the boats, enc.u.mbered with battle gear and the sailors rowed towards the beach. No one came to greet us, no one came to warn us off. One of the oarsmen muttered, 'It's like some wizard whisked 'em up into the skies. A phantom village.' Sergeant Ismet glowered him to silence.

The sound of the boats' keels sc.r.a.ping on the sand was loud. We jumped overside hastily, not intending to present any lush target if there was an ambush. The thigh-deep water was warm and inviting, as was the sand stretching up to a cobbled esplanade that ran along the front of the village. There were fis.h.i.+ng-nets hung from racks, but they'd been hanging for some time, I noted. The beach sand was blown smooth and showed no footsteps, its only markings those of birds and where water animals had beached themselves to sun.

I sent Sergeant Ismet and seven women to scout the eastern stretch of the waterfront and I patrolled down the western section. Again we heard nothing but the cry of gulls and saw nothing except the occasional rat scuttling across the cobbles. There was a scattering of roof tiles in the streets, blown off by storms. Winter Winter storms, I wondered? We were now in spring, so the village might have been abandoned some time ago. storms, I wondered? We were now in spring, so the village might have been abandoned some time ago.

The village appeared unremarkable, except for its inhabitants' disappearance. I chanced entering one small shop, sword ready. It was just what one would expect in a fis.h.i.+ng village, a bit of a chandlery, a bit of a grocery. There was a faint, disagreeable smell I traced to some long-spoiled bait in a wooden bucket. There were still items on the shelves, but not many. I guessed the shop would have been barely making money for its owner, who probably had another job, either farming somewhere behind the village or working the fis.h.i.+ng boats. That made me wonder where the boats themselves had gone to. Had all the inhabitants sailed off, fearing some doom that never came?

I went into the back of the shop, where the owner had his living quarters - and the peacefulness was gone. There'd been a great struggle here. Blood, dried to black, spattered the bed, its blankets, the floor and walls. Someone had died here, fighting desperately before they did. I looked out the back door, which hung ajar, but saw nothing. I s.h.i.+vered, then retraced my steps through the shop to where my patrol waited. This was more than strange. But what made it eerie, was that I didn't feel any sense of danger. Although I was seeing that all this was most unusual, there didn't seem to be any special reason to keep my sword ready, my eyes darting from side to side. I forced wariness on myself - looking here and there for any threat. But nothing happened and we continued on.

We checked the rest of the waterfront without learning anything more. We trotted back to the boats, where Sergeant Ismet waited. Her end of the village was equally desolate and she, too, had found evidence of a fight. Yet there were no bodies, no bones. Whoever had attacked this village had either taken the corpses with them, or, singularly neat butchers, had performed funeral services after the ma.s.sacre. I thought it might be seaborne slavers - but slavers never destroy a village utterly. Rather, they take the young, the comely, and the talented and leave the rest to breed another generation to harvest. But what did I know about customs in these far lands?

I sent Sergeant Ismet out to the s.h.i.+p to report and to give my orders to Captain Stryker and to Cholla Yi. There appeared to be no immediate danger, so the s.h.i.+ps could be brought in to anchor, although a fighting watch should be kept until I ordered differently. As an added precaution, I wanted another galley to join Captain Meduduth, out beyond the headland. I ordered the Guard to land in full strength. We would explore and secure the island. I told Sergeant Ismet I also thought it'd be safe for the s.h.i.+ps to send watering parties ash.o.r.e - there was a small creek with sweet water just at the west end of the village - although the parties should not skylark about, and be accompanied by armed men.

Within the hour, my Guard was ash.o.r.e. Cholla Yi's marines could provide safety along the waterfront and we did not plan to venture far inland, for fear of an ambush from the sea. The village was no more than a few blocks deep. For the moment we would ignore whatever lay on the plateau and the rest of the island. If we found no reason for alarm, Cholla Yi could send work parties inland to cut and shape trees for keel blocks and warp his s.h.i.+ps, two at a time, close insh.o.r.e and wait for the tide to strand them. Then work could begin on cleaning, caulking and retarring the bottoms, while my Guardswomen, with great relief, could become hunters to resupply our victuals.

Then Gamelan, who'd come ash.o.r.e without my noticing, came up with his two Guardswomen to ask if he could come with us. I thought several things, but said none of them.

'Perhaps,' he explained, 'I might still have a small bit of my power left and could at least offer a warning of any magical danger.'

I couldn't see any reason to deny him. We had no intention of racing through the village and if we were attacked ... well, Gamelan had said enough times that he hated the idea of being thought an anchor to the expedition.

We moved into the village, weapons ready. I was in the front and once again I kept Dica beside me. Corais was just behind me and Polillo and Flag Sergeant Ismet commanded the rear. We pa.s.sed shops, homes, all the things that made up a prosperous village. I entered several homes, trying to figure out how much warning the people would've had. Contrary to what I knew our barracks' tales would say later, when and if we returned to Orissa, there were no meals left unfinished on tables or tasks abandoned in mid-stroke.

There was one exception - the main taproom of a large tavern was the remnants of chaos itself. There were wineskins ripped asunder, bottles and casks shattered, goblets scattered across the floor and tables overturned. Here also were several large bloodstains. I estimated that at least six, perhaps ten, drinkers had been surprised and slain in their cups. Remembering the shambles of the bedroom I'd been in earlier, I thought death came in the night, without warning. We moved on, ready for anything. But again, there was no sense of danger. It was as if we were exploring ruins of a civilization that died in our mothers' mothers' time.

One of the flankers doubled back to report a large building ahead, just on the outskirts against the mountain face. She thought it might be a barracks, the first sign of a military presence beyond the anchorage. We moved towards it.

It almost certainly was a barracks - a long two-storey structure, with regular buildings and, outside, a guardshack. For the first time I felt a whisper of danger, or of something untoward. 'Sergeant Ismet up!'

In a moment she was beside me. I wanted her at my side and chose six others, all exceptional swordswomen, to accompany us inside. I sent Polillo with the rear element around the side. I put archers out as a screen, with orders to guard in all directions.

We entered the building and found a charnel h.e.l.l. It had been a barracks, sheltering at least two hundred soldiers. I knew because the building was filled with their bodies. Even my hardened soldiery was taken aback -I heard one or two gasps of horror and muttered curses. heard one or two gasps of horror and muttered curses.

The ghastly scene reminded me of something, and before I could close my mind, the memory came: once, when very young, I'd been in one of my father's barns, playing with three half-grown kittens. They'd found a nest of field mice that had moved into what they thought was a sanctuary of unbaled hay. The kittens, so friendly and lovable a moment before, hewed true to their duties and with a great yowling and shrieking, slaughtered the entire nest before any of the mice could flee. Not content with killing them, they played with the dead and dying. Some they devoured, some they merely mutilated. Just as someone ... or something ... had done to these soldiers. Some had been asleep, some awake and on duty. It didn't matter. I saw shattered javelins, broken swords, fine plate armour that lay burst like potsherds.

Time had pa.s.sed since that murderous night, but the horror was not lessened. Some of the bodies had rotted to skeletons, but others had dried and mummified, brown lips pulled back over yellowed teeth in horrid mirth. Not one body, though, was whole. Perhaps scavengers or rodents had fed, or carried the bones away for their own usage. Perhaps.

It was just then I heard the music. Flute music. It came from outside. Without orders, we ran out of the barracks, towards the sound.

It came from beyond the barracks, where a large semi-circular wall reared. I started to rush towards it, then caught myself. I motioned and my Guardswomen spread into a hedgehog semi-circle, and advanced. We rounded the end of the wall, and stopped in our tracks. The wall became a high stone bal.u.s.trade. A matching wall curved towards us on the other side. In the centre, stone steps had been carved, a colossal staircase up the side of the plateau. On either side of the stairs luxuriant vines grew down, their flowers rich with a rainbow of colours.

The music came from the base of those stairs. It came, indeed, from a flute. The flute was being played by a strange creature. He was certainly not a man, for not even the barbarians of the icy south are that hairy, or so I've been told. Nor was he an ape, at least not from any species I've ever seen in the wild or a menagerie. Its face was neither ape- nor man-like. The best I could compare it to was that of a lion, with great fangs, but without whiskers. Around his neck he wore a ribbon with a small jewel on it.

The creature looked at us with calm interest, showing no fear whatsoever and its flute-playing never stopped, a melody that sang of birds over a stormy sea, birds wheeling in search of a home the winds had driven them from, a home they could never hope to find again.

I caught my breath, realizing what the flute had been made from. It was a human femur that had been lovingly pierced and polished. I saw a blur from the corner of my eye. It was Gerasa, my best archer, bringing her bow up, right hand drawing smoothly until the broadhead just touched the arrow rest.

'Stop,' I snapped, and such was the discipline I'd worked into my women that the shaft never flew. But neither was the bow lowered. 'We aren't starting a war here. We don't know who those soldiers were, nor why they were killed. Let alone whether our friend was the killer.'

Gerasa's eyes flicked to the side at me, and I could tell her thoughts: No trooper should be slaughtered in such a manner, nor his or her memory mocked by an ape. But she lowered her bow.

Gamelan was beside me, his two guides just behind. Since the musician showed no sign of tiring, I briefly told him what we were looking at - and what I'd seen in the barracks not far away. Gamelan was silent for a long moment. His head turned back and forth, sweeping the wide base of the staircase as if he were sighted or, better yet, a hunting hound keen on the scent. A smile came and went on his lips.

'I do not know how to describe this. My powers are not returning,' he said, and I could see he was forcing calmness. 'There is something something here. It is ... it is like when you have had your eyes shut in absolute dark for a long time and then your thoughts claim you are seeing something. I can sense sorcery all about us ... Good or ill, I do not know. But it is something we must meet and face.' here. It is ... it is like when you have had your eyes shut in absolute dark for a long time and then your thoughts claim you are seeing something. I can sense sorcery all about us ... Good or ill, I do not know. But it is something we must meet and face.'

The creature's fluting broke off as if it were waiting for those words. It sprang to the railing of the stairs, took hold of a vine, swarmed up and was gone.

I listened within myself, to see if I sensed anything. There was was something here, I realized - just as Gamelan had said. It was stirring, I felt as if I were a minnow near the surface of a pond and a great pike was moving below me in the mud and the reeds. Yet still, I felt no menace, no threat. something here, I realized - just as Gamelan had said. It was stirring, I felt as if I were a minnow near the surface of a pond and a great pike was moving below me in the mud and the reeds. Yet still, I felt no menace, no threat.

'We climb those stairs,' I decided. I sent a runner and escort back to the beach to inform Cholla Yi of our intent. We started up, keeping six steps between us so if archers or spearmen lay in wait, they could find no target more inviting than a single woman. The steps were carved perfectly out of the rock, as if masons by the mult.i.tude had all eternity for their task. We reached a landing and turned - the steps becoming a tunnel into the cliff itself, windows cleverly carved to appear like faultlines to anyone below. The stone walls were also carved with bas-reliefs. They told a story, a story of b.l.o.o.d.y battles and strange cities on even stranger islands. I tried to follow the story, just as one studies a tapestry, but could make no sense of it. The carvings grew more elaborate, and stranger and more violent - and I took my eyes away.

We reached a second landing and now the stairs were in the open once more, going straight into the rock wall's face. There was blue sky overhead and the rock stretched high above us on either side.

I stopped and looked back to check the progress of my Guard. The climb was winding some of us and I swore under my breath, realizing again how much a voyage saps one's strength, no matter how many callisthenics you do, or how many times you're chased around a deck by a leather-lunged training sergeant. Gamelan pa.s.sed me. His escorts were panting a little, but the old Evocator was tapping along with the speed of a man a third his age. I hurried back to the head of the column and we continued up.

'I think I liked it better,' Polillo said, from where she climbed not far behind me, 'when we were in that d.a.m.n tunnel with some overhead cover. That clifftop would sure be suggesting things to somebody who doesn't think I'd make a boon drinking companion... and who had a rock or six handy.'

I fell in beside her and we climbed on in silence, trying not to count the steps and then we were at the top and in the open.

The plateau was one great meadow. Low rolling hillocks carried the eye from side to side. There were groves of trees set here and there among them and I could see the blue of ponds and creeks. But this wasn't any natural paradise - in the middle of this plateau sat a great villa, with outbuildings scattered around. It was marble, and must have been that flash of white I saw while yet outside the island's bay. The building itself was multiple-storeyed. There were two polyhedron domes at the building's centre, connected by an enclosed archway. This was an estate as grand as the finest Antero horse farm-and more.

I saw movement coming from the house. My Guardswomen deployed out into a vee-formation at the head, of the stairs, archers on the flanks, spearwomen guarding them, and swordswomen in the centre.

The movement became a horse with rider. But the sight became more fabulous the closer it got. The horse was no common domestic, but a black-and-white-striped zebra, such I had seen but once when a s.h.i.+p laden with exotic animals bound for a king's court had docked in Orissa. Riding bareback on it was yet another of the beast-men. This one was even more grotesque than the musician, because it wore red knee breeches and a green jacket. The zebra stopped without command and its rider slid off.

The creature looked around curiously, then came directly to me. Then I saw it, too, wore a jewel hung around its neck. The beast-man bowed, took an ivory tablet from inside its jacket and handed it to me. There was but one word on the tablet: Welcome.

I jolted when I saw the greeting was written in Orissan.

The beast-man did not wait for a response, but vaulted back onto the zebra. Again without command, the animal galloped away, but not towards the great villa, but to a large barn I saw in the distance.

I told Gamelan what the tablet contained and asked if his feelings had grown any stronger.

'No,' he said. 'All I know is that we must go on.'

And so we did. I put my soldiery out in extended formation, with strong skirmishers on the flanks and we marched towards the villa. It was even larger than I'd thought and not nearly as close. In fact, it was almost two miles away. As we came close, I could make out gardens, a maze to one side, fishponds and other lavish outworks. But I saw not one of the vast company of gardeners that'd be necessary to keep these grounds so perfect.

There was a curving drive, wide enough for half a dozen formal carriages, paved with broken white oyster sh.e.l.l. Our boots crunched as we walked towards the villa's entrance - double doors thirty feet high and set in the centre of a colonnaded terrace.

I brought my troops to a halt and without any orders, they automatically formed up in column, as if awaiting inspection by a great prince, never fearing an attack.

After a moment, the doors opened and a man walked out.

'I greet you, and welcome you to Tristan,' he said in Orissan, and his voice sang like a great gong, as welcoming as spiced cider on a winter's night. 'I am The Sarzana and I have waited long for your coming.'

A day has pa.s.sed since I dismissed the Scribe, telling him I wasn't angered, but needed time to reflect on what words I would choose before continuing my story. I needed the time not because I was afraid to say what happened. We all err and the only sin is committing the same stupidity twice.

It was rather that when you first meet someone great, someone who rocks the earth in his pa.s.sage, memory has been known to shake a false ivory. Certainly The Sarzana must be considered great, for that word describes both good and evil. I do not want my knowledge of what came later to colour what I saw and felt there on that island, seeing this man for the first time. But now my words are ready.

The Sarzana might have been taken for a merchant prince. He was richly dressed in a wide-sleeved tunic that came close about his neck. He wore pantaloons whose legs flared as fully as his sleeves. Both garments were purple and he appeared born to that imperial colour. I guessed them to be made of heavy silk. He wore a belt of twisted thongs, turquoise in shade. I saw the glossy toes of ebony boots peeping from under his pantaloons.

The Sarzana was a bit under medium height and was full-bodied. It didn't appear as if he'd missed many meals, but neither did he appear to be a piggish feeder like Cholla Yi. He was clean-shaven and his cheeks were powdered. His pomaded hair hung in waves to just above his shoulders and looked to have had the attention of an artist with the curling iron minutes before he stepped out to greet us. His face was roundish, marked by very dark eyebrows and a straight moustache. If you pa.s.sed him on an Orissan street, you might have thought him a visiting magnate, no more. A man of dignity and wealth.

At that moment I looked into his eyes. I swear this is not my jade of a memory adding something I didn't notice at the time. His eyes were a deep well of expression. They were dark - I can't say whether they were the deepest of greens, blues or blacks now - and they shone with the memory of power. The best I can compare them to is those of a caged eagle, who sits in the mews remembering how his talons ripped all that came before him; or perhaps the glow that comes to my goshawk's yellow eyes when she's unhooded and sees the woodc.o.c.k in the field.

No. Even on a busy street, in a rich district, The Sarzana would not be casually dismissed - not once you saw those eyes.

The Sarzana stopped when he came off the last step and bowed.

'You are safe,' he said, and I knew knew absolutely that he spoke the truth. 'You may summon the s.h.i.+ps you have on guard beyond the headlands to enter the harbour and anchor, and may allow as many as you wish of your sailors to come ash.o.r.e. There is no harm here. I do not expect you to take me at my word. I sense there are two among you who have the Talent. One has been badly hurt, I can feel... 'and I could sense Gamelan stirring from where he stood just behind me, '... the other is young, still feeling her way to power.' absolutely that he spoke the truth. 'You may summon the s.h.i.+ps you have on guard beyond the headlands to enter the harbour and anchor, and may allow as many as you wish of your sailors to come ash.o.r.e. There is no harm here. I do not expect you to take me at my word. I sense there are two among you who have the Talent. One has been badly hurt, I can feel... 'and I could sense Gamelan stirring from where he stood just behind me, '... the other is young, still feeling her way to power.'

I removed my helmet and bowed. 'I greet you in the name of Orissa,' I said, but made no response to his statement about sorcerers. 'I see you have the powers of magic and are what we call an Evocator. Can you sense aught of our history?'

'Some,' he said. 'And what I cannot, I am sure you will tell me. But we need not go into that now. I know you are not long from a great voyage and a greater battle, and since your victory, which nearly brought you down, you have been harried and sore-struck. But now you are safe. You may remain here as long as you wish and refit. What tools and equipment you find, you are welcome to use as you wish. You may find housing below in the village, or up here, on the plateau. There are more than enough barracks to accommodate regiments far greater than your own.

'The fresh water, the grains that grow wild, the fruits of the trees are yours for the taking. You may hunt, you may fish where you will. I ask only that you hunt no creatures who walk upright. Nor should you take any creatures who wear my sign, a jewel set in their forehead or on a band around their neck. They are my servants and my friends and I have sworn to let them come to no harm. This I must insist on, and anyone who breaks that law will be punished and the manner of his punishment shall be most dire.' Now all of us could see that sheen of authority in his eyes.

I broke the hold he had on us. 'We come in peace, and none of us are fools or children. We hold to the laws of the country we visit,' and I allowed a bit of steel into my voice, lso long as we are honoured as guests. lso long as we are honoured as guests. If that agreement is broken...' I did not finish my sentence, nor need to. If that agreement is broken...' I did not finish my sentence, nor need to.

'Good,' The Sarzana said. 'I have already sent one of my ... servants down to welcome the rest of your party, and to invite the officers of the s.h.i.+ps, particularly the one you call Cholla Yi, to my villa. Captain Antero, you may, if you choose, allow your soldiers to break ranks and relax. There will be an opportunity to refresh yourselves before we dine.'

I thought a moment. It would have been absurd to have listened to his honeyed words, but once more I felt nothing but calm and welcome. I looked at Gamelan, and he wore a slight smile, lifted his face as if to the warm afternoon sun.

'Thank you, Sarzana,' I said. 'We thank you deeply for welcoming us to your kingdom.'

The Sarzana's expression changed, darkened. 'Kingdom?' he said, and his voice, too, altered. It was as if a sudden storm cloud had rolled across the clear sky. 'I who once ruled lands that stretched so wide no man could see them all in a lifetime? This This is not my kingdom. is not my kingdom.

'This is my doom, Captain. This is my exile. This is where I was sent to die!'

By mid-afternoon all of our s.h.i.+ps were moored in the harbour and most of the men ash.o.r.e. The Sarzana said he'd have his minions clean out the death barracks in the village and our people could quarter there. Those of us who heard the offer shuddered collectively at spending even one night in that morgue. The Sarzana saw our response and said we were more than welcome to sleep up here on the plateau if we wished - his enemies had built more than enough rooms when they exiled him to this island.

Corais boldly chanced a question, and asked what had happened below.

The Sarzana smiled and his smile wasn't humorous. He said we'd learn in time, but that was near the end of his tale, and he preferred to tell it later. Unless, he added, the legate was worried that somehow what happened to those scoundrels bore on her fate? Even though his words were a taste harsh, no one took offence. Corais shrugged and said it was his island. All of us were still feeling that odd contentment, as if our troubles had come to an end.

The Sarzana's offer was generous, but neither Cholla Yi nor I wanted to be that far from our s.h.i.+ps. Also, it would've taken too long for the working parties to go up and down that staircase and as long as our s.h.i.+ps were near-derelicts, we felt naked, unprotected.

We decided a small party of my Guardswomen, headed by Corais, would be quartered on the plateau, more to keep an eye on The Sarzana than anything else. The rest of us would use the abandoned houses along the waterfront and cleaning them would be our first task. Two taprooms would be used for Cholla Yi's and my headquarters. The tavern I'd chosen also had good-sized rooms above-stairs, so these became quarters for Polillo, Aspirant Dica and myself. I'd determined to make her a legate if she survived our next battle and to blazes with the official policy of not making promotions without a higher officer - which meant a man - approving. The long voyage had given me time to think about many things I'd taken for granted in Orissa and there would be changes when we got back.

The Sarzana informed us he'd planned a feast to celebrate our arrival. We accepted, but told him some of my Guardswomen and a small watch aboard each s.h.i.+p would be unable to attend. They would mess off s.h.i.+p's rations. Tomorrow, if none of us fell ill from the food we'd eaten, they could have their own feast. This was common practice when dealing with foreign lords for whom poison might be an ordinary tool of state.

The Sarzana frowned when I told him we wouldn't all be able to take advantage of his hospitality and I said, perhaps a little sharply, that we, too, had our customs. He smiled, not taking offence and I felt whatever bit of suspicion I might have felt melt m his warmth. He said custom was a most good thing and that one of his own personal beliefs was the commoner was as deserving of a banquet for his or her deeds as any lord. It had been his way, he said, from the very beginning, that n.o.bility and peasants should sit intermingled.

'If nothing else,' he said, his smile becoming jovial, but never touching his eyes, 'I've found the man or woman of the soil or sea has far more interesting things to say than the latest court prattlings.'

I was most impressed, as were my women. This was the way we ate and lived in battle, but in barracks even the Maranon Guard had separate messes for sergeants, officers and privates. I made a note to think about this way of The Sarzana's. Perhaps when we returned home, this would be another idea worth introducing to the cob-webbed customs of the army, at least for the Guard. Only Cholla Yi and some of his officers appeared to resent the planned seating arrangement, but none of them said anything within my hearing.

We toileted in s.h.i.+fts and did our best to smarten up to our best full dress. But it was pretty pathetic. Our dress tunics were salt-spotted and our armour had discoloured, in spite of constant polis.h.i.+ng. Our bra.s.s had a beautiful greenish tint that took much cursing and many ashes to remove. We whitened our leather as best we could, although it needed more than oiling and blanco -1 hoped we could find time to cut and tan new hides before we sailed on. Our beautiful plumed helms had not taken the pa.s.sage well and looked like seabirds who'd been tumbled about in a winter's gale. Only our weapons gleamed with never a stain. hoped we could find time to cut and tan new hides before we sailed on. Our beautiful plumed helms had not taken the pa.s.sage well and looked like seabirds who'd been tumbled about in a winter's gale. Only our weapons gleamed with never a stain.

We ourselves were so many harridans. Polillo took one look in a pier-gla.s.s set between the two windows that looked out onto the harbour, and moaned. 'This isn't hair, this is a dustmop,' she said, waving a handful of her brown locks at me.

I tried to be polite, but she was right. We'd combed and washed and, when we could, oiled. But the sea and salt air had laughed at our efforts. Somehow, it hadn't seemed important aboard s.h.i.+p, when we all looked equally good or bad and who gave a d.a.m.n what any sailor thought. But now, with the promise of this banquet, even though there was no one to impress but The Sarzana and his half-men, we felt shamed.

But we did what we could with the time and materials we had. And from this came another tale my women would be telling as long as I led them and beyond.

The villagers of Tristan had evidently been cleanly sorts, because there were more than enough tubs, wooden or metal, for bathing. Two of Cholla Yi's sailors decided to amuse themselves by peeping on our pastime. One earned himself a broken arm courtesy of a hurled stave by Polillo, the other bruised or broken ribs from a blunt-headed arrow fired by Gerasa.

Those of us who preferred our limbs hairless stropped our razors or smallknives and shaved. I wondered, as I cut myself and swore, why no Evocator had ever provided a depilatory spell, until I realized men set great store by their own bodily hair and of course paid little heed to a woman's desires. I did remember having heard tales that some of Orissa's finer courtesans had their bodies completely ridden of hair below the neck and realized perhaps such a spell did exist and I'd never considered magic as being intended for daily use, until Gamelan began tutoring me.