Demontech: Rally Point: 2 (Demontech Book 2) (36 page)

BOOK: Demontech: Rally Point: 2 (Demontech Book 2)
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“Probably looking for us in all the wrong places,” Haft observed.

Here and there the soldiers were drilling under the close supervision of their officers and sergeants.

The two watched for an hour, then moved and watched from the new location for a second hour. During that time the guard post was relieved. The new group of soldiers joked among themselves and with those they replaced, the ones being relieved sounded like they were complaining that their relief was late. Haft and Birdwhistle were about to leave when they saw new activity at the fenced area so they waited to see what it was.

Women and children were herded into the enclosure. Most of them went directly to the unidentified things on the ground, identifying them as bedding.

“The fiends make them sleep in the open!” Haft growled. His hands twisted as though they held his axe.

They weren’t close enough to hear, but they saw an officer lead a squad through the gate into the enclosure. The officer held something in his hand, it appeared to be a sheet of paper that he read from. A couple of the women reluctantly stood. The soldiers grabbed them and shoved them outside the entrance into the waiting arms of other soldiers. They then moved among the rest of the women and grabbed a few, forcing them out. Faint wails and cries came to Haft. The soldiers secured the gate and hustled the women they’d taken to the cluster of tents.

“What are they doing with them?” Haft growled. The question was rhetorical, he knew full well what the Jokapcul were doing with the women. “That’s more they have to answer for. Let’s go.”

Archer and Hunter were ready to go when they reached them; they reported they had seen men and older boys herded into the enclosure north of the town’s ruins. The Light Horsemen had made good use of the time they’d spent holding the horses—nine geese and a dozen ducks, all dressed, were hanging over the withers of the horses in front of the saddles. The sun had set by the time they got back to the valley.

 

CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO

A dozen or so additional people had made their way to the valley—or been found and led in—while Haft and the Zobrans were on their reconnaissance. There had been joyful reunions between husbands and wives, worried parents and terrified children who’d thought they lost loved ones forever. Most people were glad at the return of the patrol, and not merely because the men had made it back unharmed—the twenty-one fowl were enough to make stock for stew, though few actually got any meat in their evening’s meal.

As soon as they turned the bird carcasses over to the cooks, Haft and the Zobrans met with Spinner, Fletcher, and Silent. Doli sat so close behind Spinner that her shoulder leaned into him. She refused to budge even when he told her to leave because it was a confidential meeting.

“Where’s Alyline?” Haft asked. The Golden Girl was nowhere to be seen. Haft suspected she thought his plan was good, but decided against helping and was unwilling to tell him about it.
Curious, it’s uncharacteristic for her to be afraid to face someone—especially me.

Conditions in the valley were very primitive. They didn’t even have paper or parchment to draw a map on; Haft had to draw lines on the ground with his knife and use sticks and stones as landmarks. They sat on logs and studied Haft’s map by torchlight. The Zobrans added details that he missed, and Birdwhistle corrected a distance.

“My longbow has greater range than your crossbow,” the former poacher said. “I have greater need to judge distance accurately.”

Haft glowered at him, but his glower wasn’t serious.

Four sticks were the pen where the women were kept overnight south of the burnt-out town; four more showed the similar fenced cage for the men in its north. A fist-size pebble served for the odd new construction in the center of the clearing. Small pebbles represented a group of wagons, probably theirs, that were parked between that construction and the ashes of Eikby. A twig marked where horses were kept on tether lines between the construction and the tents on the east side, and another marked the tether lines below the cluster of tents to Eikby’s southeast. Hashmarks in the dirt showed the low tents that didn’t look like they could hold more than two or three men. In the center of each cluster of tent rows was a circle of tents high enough for a man to stand in, and inside that circle was an even bigger tent. None of the men on the reconnaissance had seen anything that might be a kitchen; they figured meals were cooked over the fires scattered throughout the tent areas.

Except for the east road, they hadn’t seen where sentries were placed.

“We don’t have to worry about night sentries,” Spinner said. “What we need to concern ourselves with is the time the Jokapcul take the prisoners out of the pens, and when they start sending out their patrols. This raid has to begin while all the Jokapcul are in camp and the prisoners are still locked up.

“Damn!”
He realized they didn’t have Haft’s diversion. “It can’t begin then. Without a diversion, we have to wait until the patrols are out. By then, the prisoners will be scattered and harder to rescue. And then, we may not be able to rescue all the people.”

“Why won’t there be a diversion?” Alyline’s voice cut in.

They all spun to the sound of her voice. Even Doli’s breath caught—at the edge of the glow cast by their torches, the Golden Girl stood in all her splendor.

From the top of her head to the soles of her feet, she was gold. Her hair was the color of flowing honey. Her eyes sparked amber. Her skin was burnished sunshine. The short vest that left her shoulders and arms bare and didn’t fully close between her breasts looked like cloth of gold, as did the narrow sash that girdled low on her hips. Her pantaloons were likewise gold and flowed so gently they appeared made of sheerest fabric, though they were opaque and blocked view of her legs. The diadem that circled her head was of sparkling gold chains interwoven with gold coins. Gold bands circled her upper arms, gold bangles dangled on her wrists, gold rings adorned her fingers, gold hoops were suspended from the lobes of her ears. Gold coins hung from the hem of her vest and spanned the girdle of her pantaloons. The golden hilt of her dagger protruded from the golden sheath that angled across her belly on its own golden belt.

Alyline stood with one hip cocked. She slowly, sinuously raised one hand above her head and brought its lesser fingers together. The tiny cymbals on those fingers came together in a tinkling clash.

Alyline smiled wryly and asked in a husky voice, “You wanted a distraction for the Jokapcul? By your reaction, I’d say they will be distracted.”

Silent was the first to recover. “By the gods, I would willingly die to see you dance.”

“You can die, but you cannot see me dance.” She looked at Spinner and Haft.

Spinner turned away. Haft just shrugged.

She stepped into the circle. “Move over,” she said, bumping Haft’s shoulder with her hip. He scooted over. She studied the makeshift map intently and quickly grasped its major elements. “Different pens for men and women?” she asked. When Haft confirmed that, she asked, “The women’s pen is the one closer to the soldiers’ tents, almost between them?” When Haft said it was, she said, “Where do you want me to do it?”

“Come in here shortly after dawn.” Spinner pointed to where the west road entered the cleared land. “You’ll be facing the sun, so you should be visible at quite a distance. Walk toward the camp until you’re sure they see you. Then turn around and return to the forest—but walk slowly enough that some of them can follow you on foot. The Bloody Axes will escort you to the road, they’ll wait out of sight for you to rejoin them, then they’ll bring you back here.”

She nodded. “What will you be doing?”

“We’ll take out this guard post just before dawn.” He pointed at the guard post on the east road. “As soon as the soldiers are distracted, four of us with the Lalla Mkouma will go to the pens and free the captives. We’ll bring them back along the east road, and then circle north of Eikby back to here.”

“What about women who are in the soldiers’ tents when you free the others?”

Spinner looked at her; he hadn’t thought of any of the women who would be kept in the soldiers’ tents overnight.

“If you don’t free them as well, it will be harder on them than it already is.”

“There will be thirty of us,” Haft said. “We’ll have the demon spitters, and Xundoe has more phoenix eggs. Don’t worry, we’ll get them.”

“Thirty of you,” she repeated. Haft nodded. “And how many of them are there?”

Haft looked thoughtful for a moment, then answered, “Three hundred. Maybe a few more.”

“Thirty against more than three hundred. You are fools.” For a long moment she looked into a place only she could see, then her eyes searched his face for a moment, then she put her hand on his knee and softly said, “And so am I. Thank you.”

Spinner looked at her hand on Haft’s knee and tasted ashes in his mouth. Since that first night when he learned she was a slave and resolved to free her, she hadn’t touched him with anything but anger and had refused to allow him to touch her.

Haft warily looked at the hand on his knee; Alyline had never been anything other than hostile to him. What mayhem did she have in mind now?

Sensing what was going on, Fletcher tried to bring everyone’s attention back to the planning. “The men with the Lalla Mkouma should just send the prisoners to the forest instead of leading them. As soon as they get the prisoners moving, they should go to the tents and search for women who might be in them.”

Then they met with the soldiers who were going on the raid and gave them their orders. Xundoe dispensed demon spitters to those who would carry them. Haft’s demon looked unhappy about having to work with someone else, but grumbled,
“Arr’righ,”
when Haft asked him to help the soldier. Then they tried to sleep, they had to be on the move hours before dawn. Sleep came hard for most of them.

 

Dawn touched the treetops, waking the highest perched birds soon after Spinner, Haft, and four longbowmen reached their position near the east road guard post. Silent and five swordsmen were on line behind them. Just enough light filtered down for them to make out the shadowy lumps that were the sentries. Two of them were sitting on the log, one faced the road into the forest, the other watched toward their camp, probably on lookout for their sergeant. The other four were on the ground, sleeping.

Each of the six charged with taking out the guard post knew where he was in the line. Each counted Jokapcul from left to right and found his target—on the right, Spinner had the rightmost Jokapcul as his target, Haft second from the left had the second leftmost as his. Too close to the guard post to talk, Spinner reached to his left and tapped the man there. He in turn tapped the man on his left, who in turn tapped the next. When the tap reached the last man, he tapped back, raised his bow, nocked an arrow, and took aim at his target. When the tap got back to Spinner, he aimed his crossbow at the rightmost Jokapcul and said in a low voice, “Now!”

Two bolts and four arrows sprang to their targets then Silent and the swordsmen rushed between the bowmen to make sure the guards were dead.

As soon as the guards were confirmed dead, Spinner and Haft quickly positioned their men and assigned each an area to watch and verified they knew all of the signals they might use that morning. Xundoe gave the Lalla Mkouma to Haft, Silent, Birdwhistle, and Hunter. Then they waited. By then, the dawn sun was shining on the tents and a drum was beating to wake the Jokapcul soldiers.

 

Alyline stood behind a tree where the west road emptied into the cleared land. A few paces away four Bloody Axes and the two remaining Blood Swords stood next to their horses, one of them held hers as well as his own. She waited for the sun’s first rays to reach the road near her feet. She listened to the waking birds in the treetops sing their morning welcome to the rising sun, watched the surface of the road turn from blue-black, to dark bluish gray, to gray, to the brown of its dirt. The sound of a distant drum drifted to her. When the sun was strong enough, she took a deep breath and stepped onto the road.

She walked erect and brisk as far as the ruined gate in the broken fence, then slowed to a sinuous walk. She ignored the stench rising from the carcasses of the horses killed in the battle the night before last, didn’t look to her sides to see the dark stains on the ground where Jokapcul blood had flowed. Instead, she kept her eyes on the camp, watching for the first Jokapcul to spot her. It wasn’t long before a newly risen soldier, walking from his tent to the latrine, noticed the golden glint and turned to it. His abrupt change of posture told her he had seen her. Others saw him looking, looked where he did, and froze as though mesmerized. In moments nearly every soldier in the camp was staring at her. They began to crowd forward for a better view.

The Golden Girl stopped and stood in the middle of the road, swaying her hips from side to side. She sinuously raised one hand skyward and turned her torso to the side and back again. Her arm lowered and the other snaked above her head. But in her swaying she did not move her feet, she did not dance.

One Jokapcul took a few steps forward. Others followed suit. In moments a mass of soldiers was walking rapidly west, toward this apparition. The Golden Girl turned languorously about and resumed her sinuous walk but back toward the fence. The Jokapcul followed. She didn’t walk so slowly they could easily catch up with her, nor did she walk fast enough to entice them to run. She looked behind and saw the more adventurous ones were gaining—but was relieved that most of the soldiers stood where they were and just watched.

The fence looked miles away, the forest beyond it seemed lost beyond the horizon. Yet she resisted the temptation to run. Perspiration beaded on her forehead. Behind her, raised voices called to her. She couldn’t make out the words but she knew what they were saying:
Stop, beautiful one! I will show you what a real man can do, my beauty! Be mine, my heart, and we will both live in paradise!
Those and other things that she had heard countless times from the men who paid the dear price for a night with her at The Burnt Man Inn. Nights she had given unwillingly, for the slavemaster who pocketed the price would have punished her most severely had she not given what he was paid for. She wanted to scream in terror and fly blindly from the men following her; when Spinner and Haft freed her she resolved no man would ever again touch her without her leave and desire. Now many men were following and—she looked back coquettishly—closing rapidly. If they caught her they would touch her as they willed, with no consideration of whether or not she gave her leave. They would touch her—and more—as many as could at once, and the others would jostle for their turns.

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