Scabbard's Song (11 page)

the king of our city. I am the eleventh of twelve sons. My brothers are mostly generals and what not. Only my younger brother and I are captains. He sighed. It suits me. Im not fond of too much responsibility. I prefer a quieter life than that which my older brothers lead. Its rather pleasant to be rich and only have a small troop of soldiers to command. I do not have to spend a huge amount on weapons and armour. Thou shouldst see my eldest brothers uniform bills! Massive. Huge. And the cost of horses, these days! I would much rather spend my money on beef and lamb, and these rare spices thou canst see spread before thee, than puff it away on tight pantaloons and prancers . . . But come, tell me your story, he said eagerly, sipping his own wine. I am all ears. I love a good tale, especially from strange lips.

Chapter Four

After the meal the women used incense and myrrh to perfume the tent and get rid of the smell of cooked meat. Then they brought both men hookahs. Soldier was not used to smoking but he felt it would be uncharitable to refuse to join the captain, so he did. His head swum for the first few puffs, but after a while he found the activity quite pleasant. Before I start on my story, he said, may I know your name? Most certainly. I am Captain Fabulet a prince of course, but when we are at war we are expected to use our military ranks. And thee? Soldier decided he would not go into his full history, only those parts relevant to his quest. I am called Soldier . . . You interest me already a soldier thou art, and Soldier named. Go on. I am the commander-in-chief of the Carthagan Red Pavilions, a mercenary army. Carthaga is a country a long way from this valley, but it is a nation which provides armies for cities and countries who find it difficult to defend themselves . . . A remarkable concept. Go on. The city we are defending at the moment is called Zamerkand, in the country of Guthrum, which lies beyond those mountains that hem your land in and keep it free from all but the most intrepid strangers . . . Such as thyself, Soldier. And more? The long and the short of it is, my wife is the queen of Zamerkand. She was once abducted and taken into a far desert, where she entered a strange city which robbed her of her memory. I have been informed by a priest that the only way to restore it to her is to find three objects, which I am told are available in this land, which we call the Unknown Region. Fascinating, said Fabulet, puffing away madly. What an extraordinary tale. And what are these three objects tho.u must discover here, in Scintura, happy land of happy people? Soldier was rather taken aback by the added description of Scintura, since any country at war with itself was rarely happy. Ah, theres the rub, he said. The objects are hidden, disguised as it were, by being wrapped in riddles. I dont know what they are. I shall tell you the riddles and see if you can understand any of them. If you can break all or one of them, I should be eternally grateful. Well, replied the other, I am no scholar, but I shall do my best. Soldier told him the riddles. Fabulet, who though quite young had a long silky beard which disappeared into his vest, stroked this river of hair and looked thoughtful. No, no silver container of an eternal prisoner? A golden unborn babe? These are strange phrases in poetic form. Poetry. I have never been good at understanding poetry. It dances back and forth too much and goes from one pole to the next to describe something. Simple philosophies are embroidered beyond recognition in poetry. A jade widow who eats husbands? Now his expression changed. Wait. Wait, my friend. I may be just an idle prince, with no liking for books, but there is a gleaming in my head, like that of burnished copper. Someone has polished my brain while I slept. Here, listen to this, is not the locust the colour of jade? Soldier frowned. A locust? But does the female locust eat her mate? Fabulet looked crestfallen. No, I do not believe she does . . . Then it was the turn of Soldiers brain to shine. Not the locust, nor even the grasshopper, both jade in colour, but the praying mantis. Yes, she eats her mate all right, does she not? A jade widow who has righteously murdered and devoured her husband. She is a jade widow. She does eat husbands, and righteously so, for that is how nature has ordained it. I think I have my first object. Thou art a genius! cried the young Fabulet, slapping his shoulder. Here, I have helped thee to thy first light. One small chink in the curtain, allowing a bright beam to fall on the first fragment. Now thou hast a place in which to fit the lever, to prise open the other two riddles, eh? Once the back of the first clock or lock has been opened, and the works viewed, one is aware of the internal workings of all clocks or locks. Let us think about the others is not this tobacco passing good? I love it. It clears my brain of all the dust and dirt of army life. Parades? Bah! Inspections? Phoo! Marching, barking, weapon practice, manoeuvres. They clutter ones mind. Yet this golden harvest, lit with the cleanest of flames, cooled by the clearest of waters, gently blows all that rubbish from the head. They sat and pondered on the other two riddles, but after a long time they gave up, admitting to each other that one riddle at a time was enough. It hurts the grey matter, said Fabulet. One should not overwork ones brain or one might go into a swoon from which one might never recover. Tell me what is happening here, in your valley, said Soldier eagerly. Why are you camped outside the walls of this city? Fabulets face changed to stone for an instant and Soldiers training instantly told him why. Ah, he said to the prince, you think I might be a spy? But look at these blue eyes. They will tell you I serve neither one side nor the other. In fact I am completely ignorant of all that is happening here. I have come over the mountains just this morning, not knowing who lives here, not knowing what to expect. We are told, in my country, that those who enter this region never come out. Some believe it to be heaven and thus those who find their way here do not want to return. Others believe it to be hell and say that those who vanish into its interior are not permitted to return. Fabulet stared into Soldiers eyes and after a moment he nodded and took a long suck of his hookah. I believe thee, Soldier. Well, as a military man thou must have guessed we Samonites are besieging the city of Ut. We are the army of Ged, from the other end of the valley, where our own city is besieged by the army of Plethorites of Ut. Soldier blinked. Let me get this straight. The army of Ged is besieging Ut while Uts army is besieging Ged? Correct. We have long been at loggerheads with Ut they steal our sheep . . . A light was beginning to dawn in Soldiers mind, and he interrupted with, While you steal their cattle? Fabulet frowned. Yes, how did you know? I come originally from a borderland. These things are common in border country. But do go on. We began stealing their cattle because they stole our sheep. Of course the herders of Ut say we were the first to rustle their cows, but that is a lie. Anyway, things reached a head one day and we decided to march on Ut and settle the matter once and for all. Unbeknownst to us, Ut had decided to march on Ged, that very same day. Both armies passed unseen by each other on opposite sides of the valley. When we arrived at Ut we found it defended by the city guard and its inhabitants. Word then arrived that Ged was under siege and being defended by our own guard and population. Stalemate. Thats how things have been for ten years now. Why does not one army march on the other, to relieve both cities? Why not meet in the middle of the valley and settle things with one decisive battle? War is wearisome. Long wars are doubly wearisome. Long sieges are the most tedious non-activities that war can produce. We men of Ged are convinced that Ut is about to fall. They are starving in there. There is disease amongst them. Soon, soon they will run out of water, they will run out of food, they will be sick of the pestilence that has swept within those walls, and they will open the gates. How long have you been saying that? Fabulet shrugged. For as long as I can remember. And the army at the other end of the valley are probably saying the same things. Think about your wives and children, in your own city of Ged. Would it not be better to march and procure them relief? Fabulet shrugged again. I am only my fathers son. It is my father who leads the army. He is incensed with those inside the walls, for keeping us out so long. When we enter he says we shall slaughter them to the last child. No one can reason with him. Not even my eldest brother, who has been trying for years now. My father will not leave until the city falls and he is able to get his revenge on those who have kept him waiting. Its an old story, said Soldier, sighing. And in the meantime your sheep have been depleted to feed the army of Ut, while you eat their cattle? Who are these maidens? Are they hostages? Yes, daughters of the King of Ut. That foul king has mine own sisters in his thrall and will not release them. What a mess, thought Soldier, but he did not have time to say so, for the flap of the tent was thrown back and a stout, muscled man strode in. He was dressed in brass armour, with chain mail vest over padded jacket and a helmet that went into a spire at the peak. A massive sword hung from his belt, the tip of the scabbard touching the ground. The expression on his face was thunderous, as he confronted Fabulet. Son, what dost thou here, entertaining guests while we are battling for the walls of Ut? Why were thy soldiers not at the ladders this morning? Who is this fellow that keeps thee from thy duties? This is Soldier, Father, from a land beyond the mountains. He leads an army of his own. I am merely providing him with the hospitality for which the city of Ged is so famous. Where is thy army, General? asked the king, glancing back at the flap of the tent. Is it here, in our land? No, sire, answered Soldier, I am here on a private quest. The king nodded and frowned, before saying, So, you are a commander? Perhaps your knowledge of warfare will be useful to us in crushing these upstart people of Ut. You must have had experience at sieges such as this? What dost thou recommend? The building of a mole? Ramps? Or perhaps tunnels, under the walls? Storming the watchtowers at night? I have tried withdrawing my army, pretending to go home, and leaving a gift of a wooden ox on wheels, the hollow interior carrying armed men who would creep out at night and open the gates to us, but this failed when one of the wheels came off the platform and the whole thing toppled and broke open before they could get it through the gates. Come, you must have some other ideas. Give us the benefit of your vast knowledge. Sire, I have no wish to be embroiled in this fight . . . No wish, thou sayest? cried the king, slapping his thigh with a leather glove. Well, sir, it is my wish that thee stay and assist us. But Father, interrupted Prince Fabulet, the man is on a sacred quest, to find the antidote to his wifes memory loss. The gods would be angry with us if we diverted him from his purpose. He can spare a few days. The gods wont mind that. He is a commander. He is used to diversions. Look at the man, a warrior from tip to toe. I like thy stance, Soldier. It is a brave one. Dignity. Authority. The look of high command is on thy brow. It spells experience of many battles, many wars. Eh? Yes, I do believe I am right. Come, I shall allow thee to review my troops. Let us go and look at the walls of that dastardly city, though for mine own self I am fair sick of the sight of them. Thou shalt remark upon this and that, improve upon our current situation, give us a few pointers of what and what not to do. We have made mistakes, of course. All armies at war do. But thou shalt speak straight language to us, give us the truth of the matter, and I shall be all ears, sir, all ears. Soldier saw no way out of the situation for the present, so he had no choice but to go along with the kings request. Indeed, he was able to point out several ways of improving the siege. He did attempt, during the tour of the walls and siege engine stations, to persuade the king that peace might be the best option in this war, where both sides held equal advantages and nothing was really to be gained from pressing the issue to its inevitable conclusion. It seems to me that all that will happen is that you will burn this city to the ground and they will raze your own city. Why do you not call for a meeting with the king of Ut and agree to both take your armies home and live in peace at either end of the valley? Thou art a spy, muttered the king, his eyes narrowing, or why wouldst thou speak treason to me? I am no spy, I am a complete stranger. I have no interest in Samonite or Plethorite. I am simply speaking as I find, sire. And I thought thou a true warrior, said the king, with a disgusted look. I opened up my heart to thee and this is the thanks I get. Talk of peace! Why, I can get that from my son, at any time. I shall forgive thee because thou art new to this land and know not the true nature of this war and its origins, but I tell thee, the man of Ut is a blight on this fair valley. He steals our sheep, he entices our women away from us, he makes war on us without warning . . . The king went on and on, listing the crimes of the neighbouring city state. Soldier did not feel it wise to point out that the kings own people were guilty of the very same misdemeanours. He was in a precarious position, as a foreigner, and likely to be denounced as an agent of the other side by anyone at any time. The king continued to rant and rave for a very long time. He was only interrupted by the catapults opening up on both sides. Fiery balls began descending from the sky and falling on the tents. Rocks and huge arrow-bolts were shot in the other direction. For a time the heavens were full of large missiles. Then a concentrated attack took place on one of the watchtowers of the walled city, which was repelled by the other side. Later, it all settled down again and the state of lethargy that Soldier knew to be the norm in siege camps overcame the tented army. He knew that the same thing would be happening within the walls of the city. The injured would be lining up for treatment, the dead would be buried quickly. Local shops would trade again, the marketplace would open like a patch of flowers, the children would run screaming and playing once again. In the late afternoon the gates to the city were opened and a large warrior came striding out. Here is Juggarmung, cried the Plethorite, armed cap-a-pie. Juggarmung challenges the weakling Samonites to single combat. Should Juggarmung win, food and water will be placed within reach of the inhabitants of our city. Should he lose, the gates of Ut will be thrown open for one hour and the Samonite army invited to enter at their peril. Then the warrior stood, leaning on his sword, waiting for challengers to come forth from amongst the Samonites. So, thought Soldier, thats how the Plethorites have managed to survive for so long. Their champion wins and food is placed within their reach. But what if he loses? The city will be taken. He put his thoughts to Fabulet. The young prince said, Indeed, we have beaten their champion as many times as they have ours. But the entrance to Ut is very narrow. We cannot throw our whole army at the opening, so we always send in one company of volunteers. They usually manage to battle their way in after an hour, but once inside they are either chopped