Steel And Flame (Book 1) (36 page)

Five deaths later he cut down two foes while fending
off the third and dying from the fourth.  Unexpected applause disrupted his
concentration.  He opened his eyes to see Landon and Kerwin sitting on an
upended water trough for horses, watching him.

Landon said, “You’re not half bad with that sword
after all.  I’ve never seen you practice.”

“You looked like you were actually fighting someone
there,” Kerwin added.

“Sort of.  You been there long?”

“A few moments.  That was like the sword dancers of
the Kello-beii.”

“As if you have ever seen one,” Landon accused.  He
continued louder over Kerwin’s indignant reply.  “Fraser let us know what has
transpired.”

“Oh yeah?  What’s that?”

“A runner came in a few candlemarks after we did.  The
First and Second ran into light skirmishing against Fielo’s fighters.  They had
to find an alternate route.”

“Anyone lost?”

“I don’t know.  Fraser did not say.  Our other half
sent word through the runner they would set out early tomorrow and reach us
near noon.  Dornory sent the runner back to tell them to sit where they are and
we’ll meet them.”

“So we’re setting out tomorrow?”

“First light.” Kerwin answered.  “We should hit the
sack soon.”

“Hmm.  Hey, Landon?”

“Yes?”

“You’ve been with the Kings for awhile.  How serious
is this going to be?”

“You mean how bad is the fighting going to get?”

“I suppose.”  Marik took the trough’s other end for a
seat.

“I was hoping a good show of strength would be the end
of it.”

“Not gonna happen this time,” Kerwin chirped.

“Not if they’re challenging armed men, even if we were
inside their territory.  Looks like Fielo’s ready to deal with anything that
arises, or thinks he is.  He may simply be jumpy since he knows Dornory is on
the warpath about that dam he put across the water.  Fielo’s and Dornory’s
lines have never liked each other, from what I’ve heard.”

“But what about us?” Marik persisted.  “I’ve seen what
most of Dornory’s men think of us.  We might all be on the same side, except I
don’t think we’ll be fighting together.”

Landon smiled grimly.  “Cooperation is not always a
requirement written into a mercenary’s contract.”

“Yeah!  We might be side-by-side, but I’m not trusting
my life to any of them!  And I know they think the same of me.”

“That’s nothing new,” Kerwin said.  “Mercs have always
fought for others while being crapped on by their contractors.  We always get
the worst of it, always get to lead the charge.”

Landon added, “Of course.  They come begging to
mercenaries for help, then spend them like water across the field.  The fewer
survivors, the fewer they usually have to pay in the end.”

“Is that normal?  Is that what there is to look
forward to every season?”

“Perhaps it’s not that bad.  I suppose the worst you
can say about most lords is that they don’t care one way or the other how badly
we’re put through the grinder.  Only a few have deliberately put the band’s men
in an overly dangerous position in order to minimize their own costs.”

“But we remember them and send them packing the next
time they come looking for fighters,” Kerwin finished.

“I was asking because Dornory doesn’t seem to care
much about us.  I mean, you remember how the border guard didn’t know about
us?  Fraser had to convince them we really were being employed by his lord
before he’d give us any help!”

“That might be for one or two different reasons,”
Landon responded.  “This is highly important, so Dornory might not have wanted
to alert Fielo to the fact he’s building up his forces.  An information leak
through one of his men might get back to Fielo, or Fielo himself probably has
men sniffing around to learn whatever they can and report.  By keeping his
plans private, Dornory has a chance to maneuver his forces into an advantageous
position against Fielo.”

“If Fielo has men digging around, they already know
about us and Dornory’s preparations.”

“Right,” agreed Kerwin.  “But he doesn’t want to blow
whatever intelligence network he’s set up against Dornory, so he’ll pretend he
doesn’t know.”

Landon carried the thought.  “And since Dornory
certainly has his own intelligence system running, if Fielo acts overtly on
what he’s learned, Dornory might find out
how
he learned it and break up
Fielo’s spies.”

Marik walked hesitantly through this confusing maze. 
“So, Dornory keeps quiet and causes us extra trouble so Fielo won’t know we’re
here.  Fielo’s knows were here anyway, but pretends he doesn’t so Dornory won’t
know he knows.  But Dornory knows because of his own informers, but has to
pretend he doesn’t so Fielo won’t find out about them.  How stupid!  If
everyone knows anyway, why not tell his men to expect us and save us the
trouble?”

“Because,” Landon explained,  “if the knowledge is
common, Fielo can react to our presence openly by rearranging his men in a
manner that would be threatening if it was done without the provocation.”

“But you know he’s doing that anyway!  You think he’s
not going to react to a threat against him?”

“Of course not, but now he has to do it covertly, and
that hampers what he can do.”

“My head’s starting to hurt!”

“Welcome to the real world of warfare.”  Landon waited
a moment before offering his advice.  “I find it’s best to think about any
situation like an onion.”

“What?”  This made no sense Marik could see.

“An onion.  A battle itself may be simple, yet
surrounding the battle, before and after, are many different layers of politics
and intrigue.  You have to learn how see beneath the different layers if you
want to live long.”

Shaking his head slightly, Marik hazarded, “So this
battle will be the heart of your onion?”

“No, not at all.  I suppose I phrased it wrong.  The
battles themselves may have as many layers as the plotting going on around it.”

“I don’t follow you.”

“Think of the city you passed through.  You told us
about it and how you felt.  To use it as an example, and a very simple one at
that, start at the bottom with the thieves who always exist in any large city. 
They plot and conspire to steal what they can for personal profit.  One layer
up is the local lords who set plans in motion to stop and capture them so they
can protect their own valuables.  Further up, the king is instigating his own
programs for stopping crime.  The lords respond by twisting the new laws to
their benefit while presenting a pure face to the court.  The thieves change
their tactics to suit the new actions by the wealthy and scrape off a cut for themselves
of the new profits earned by the twisting of the new laws.  Then they start all
over.”

Marik rubbed his head, trying to think in a straight
line and failing.

“That’s an obvious example, and more circular than
layered, but it serves to illustrate my point.  Beneath what you can see is
always another layer of intrigue.  And once you perceive that one, then you
must look for the layer that is deeper still.  It’s not a game you learn all at
once.  Ponder it for awhile.  It’s a way of thinking that can help you in most
things you do.”

“What was the other reason?” Marik asked in an effort
to break his head free of chaotic tangles.  “You said there were more than
one.”

“Oh, that?  Dornory might be a bungling commander who
doesn’t tell his men anything.”

“What?”

“It’s a fine line between stupidity and intelligent
tactical decisions.”

“So he’s either a fool or a genius?  What kind of
sense does that make?”

“War often does not.  I’ve at times wondered how many
complete fools ended up victorious in the histories through sheer dumb luck.”

Kerwin yawned widely.  “As fascinating as the inner
workings of spycraft is, I’m going to sleep.  We’re breaking camp early
tomorrow.”

“I’ll let you go first then so you don’t step on me.”

“You should have been quicker if you didn’t want to
get stuck in the doorway, Marik.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The two left, leaving Marik in the deepening dark,
thinking of onions and pondering Landon’s words.

*        *        *        *        *

Kerwin kicked him awake the next morning when leaving
the stall.  The stable roused itself, and Marik heard from farther down the row
a high-pitched, pain-filled voice exclaim, “Ow!  Damn it!  You just stepped on
my balls!”

“Then get them out of my way,” floated the
disinterested reply.  Grateful that Kerwin seemed more considerate, he rose
with stiff muscles.  Soon everyone left Dornshold for the road.

They reunited with the first two units when the sun
reached its zenith that afternoon.  The mercenaries had been relegated to the
rear of Dornory’s line so they spent the morning eating dust kicked up by
hundreds of feet before them.  In a land beset by years of drought, there was
an awful lot of dust to kick up.

As a result, the moods of Marik and his friends were
little better than those of the squad mates they had come to rejoin.  Once the
force resumed its trek, the reason for Earnell’s delayed arrival quickly
spread.

They had been traveling south down Vineyard Road as
planned, unaware Fielo had created patrol units numbering twenty rovers each
who were looking for signs of belligerence from Dornory.  The rovers knew who
the mercenaries must be, though forgoed an immediate attack since they were
outnumbered.

Instead they fell back on guerilla tactics, performing
strike and dash offensives meant to harass Dornory’s fighters.  No lives were
lost at first.  The Kings had been forced to abandon the road in several
controlled retreats to look for alternate passage.  Once a second rover patrol
joined the first, they made a stronger attack that pushed the half-squad
further and harder.

The half-squad finally crossed the border between
baronies only to be mistaken for an invading force under Fielo’s banner by the
uninformed border guards.  That misunderstanding had finally been corrected,
but the final tally since entering Fielo’s barony stood at three men dead and
forty-four broken tempers.

A verbal battle between the two sergeants, the
lieutenant and the captain of Dornory’s forces died after the lord stepped in
to end it.  Lieutenant Earnell spent the remaining afternoon looking like an
approaching thunderstorm.

They marched all that day and the next two as well,
stopping only when evening settled.  The border was three miles further to the
north.  Five of Dornory’s men were dispatched to collect news from the border
stations.

Marik spent the evenings visualizing enemies during
his practices, pushing himself to find a way to take all four down without
being killed by their current attack patterns.  He thought he could take three
now, except the effort to push his body to those limits, to achieve the speed
and strength required to defeat them, quickly drained him.  In battle, wasting
his energy so rapidly would be a serious mistake, leaving him exhausted soon
after the swords clashed.

He worked until sweat streamed down his face,
concentrating his all on the exercises to purge his mind of the convoluted
loops and twists resulting from the conversation with Landon and Kerwin.  His
own logic was simple.  Trying to think in intrigue like a noble was irritating
if not downright impossible.

Lieutenant Earnell had promised the men duty
assignments the next day, pending information the runners brought from the
border guards.  Marik stopped to rest.  Whether the unit penetrated Fielo’s
lands tomorrow or not, he would be ready.

*        *        *        *        *

The Fourth Unit spent the day searching for rovers and
found a group of seventeen near noon.  Fraser called everyone carrying bows
forward.  Only five men were so equipped, Landon and Hayden included.  They
drew and fired.

No matter what the bards claimed, an arrow flying
through the air is hardly a flash of lightning.  Already aware of the hostile
forces, the rovers were prepared for assault and had spread enough not to get
in each other’s way.  They watched the thin flight coming, casually able to
either step aside or catch them on their shields without difficulty.

Marik remembered Mylor’s comments about bows on the
battlefield. 
Bows are great in large battles with opponents covering the
field.  They cut down the numbers of the opposition while you suffer no losses
except in your arrow supply.  They’re also good if your archer squad is large
in number, but not so good if you only have a handful and the enemy is few.

He saw the proof with his own eyes.  Marik wondered
how often he would be hearing the man’s voice in memory.

The rovers attempted to retreat to a wooded area a
mile behind them.  Fraser refused to let them go.  Judging by the reports from
the first two units, they would stage harassment strikes at inopportune times
if they escaped.  He ordered the Fourth Unit to pursue.