Suddenly Erik felt like laughing. He tried to fight it, but couldn’t. He let out a chuckle at first, then started laughing aloud. Then others in his company joined in, and soon there were cheers as Calis’s Crimson Eagles had their first victory in a long time.
Calis moved through and said, “Get Nahoot over here.”
A man among the captives said, “He’s dead. You killed him up the trail yesterday.”
“Why didn’t Dawar tell us?” asked de Loungville.
“He didn’t know, the bleeder. We carried Nahoot down here, and he died at supper. Gut wound.
Messy.”
“Who’s leading?”
“I guess I am,” said a man, stepping forward.
“Name’s Kelka.”
“You the sergeant?” asked de Loungville.
“No, the corporal. Sergeant got his head split, too.”
De Loungville said, “Well, that partially explains why there was nothing like a defense.”
“Beggin’ your pardon, Captain,” said Kelka. “Are you going to offer us service?”
“Why?” asked Calis.
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Captain, you kicked hell out of us with only half our number. I figure you’ve got to be better than anyone else we’re likely to run into if you give us the day’s grace.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Captain, if you don’t mind, you going to take our tents?”
Calis shook his head. “Get back over there. I’ll tell you what I’m going to do once I decide.”
Calis motioned for de Loungville and said, “Get some food into the men, and send someone up the trail to lead the wounded and Dawar down here. I want everyone here by noon tomorrow.” He motioned to the captives. “We’ll figure out what to do with them in the morning.”
Erik sat down, feeling his legs shake. It had been a very long day and he was exhausted, as he knew everyone else in the company was.
Then de Loungville’s voice cut through the air.
“What! Who told anyone to rest? We’ve got a camp to make ready!”
Men began to groan as de Loungville ordered, “I want a trench and breastwork dug, and I want stakes sharpened. Bring in the horses and stake them nearby. I want a full inventory of stores, and I want to know who’s injured. Then, after we’ve got this camp in shape, maybe I’ll think about letting you get some sleep.”
Erik forced himself to stand, and as he moved, he wondered aloud, “Where are we going to find shovels?”
De Loungville shouted back, “Use your hands if you have to, von Darkmoor!”
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whispered.
Erik couldn’t hear the Captain’s conversation, but he saw Praji and Greylock nodding agreement.
The prisoners had been moved to a small wash, where a handful of men could easily guard them. De Loungville was interviewing them, against what plan of the Captain’s Erik had no idea.
The traditional head start for the losers who surrendered was a day before any hostilities would be resumed. Usually, according to Praji, those who cleared out were left alone, if they kept moving. Erik was lost in thought when Roo approached.
“How are the horses?” asked Roo.
“They’re a little scrawny; the grass is poor this time of year and they’ve been kept too long in the same place. But otherwise they’re fine. If we move them a couple of times over the next week, they should put some weight on, especially if I can find a place to shelter them at night from the wind. It’s the cold takes weight off them as much as anything else.
Their heavy coats are starting to come in, so they’ll be all right.”
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Roo said, “What do you think the Captain has in mind?”
Erik said, “I don’t really know. I find it strange he’s talking about heading down for Port Grief loud enough so those prisoners can hear.”
Roo grinned. “Not if that’s where we want the Queen’s army to look for us. What next?”
“We’ve got plenty to do,” said Erik. “And we’d better get on it before de Loungville comes back. He finds us loafing around and there’ll be hell to pay.”
Roo groaned. “I’m dying of hunger.”
Suddenly Erik realized he hadn’t eaten except for a quick mouthful the night before. “Let’s grab something,” he said, and Roo’s expression brightened.
“Then we’ll get back to work.” Roo’s expression turned dark again, but he followed his friend.
They had done a complete inventory the night before and found that while Nahoot’s men hadn’t been paid in a while, they certainly were well provisioned.
Erik and Roo made their way to the tent they shared with Luis and Biggo—Sho Pi and Natombi had moved in with Nakor and Jadow in another four-man tent—and found the other two sleeping inside. Half a loaf of trail bread, baked only a couple of days before, and a bowl of grain and nuts were sitting by the entrance, so Erik sat, let out a sigh, and picked up the bread. He tore it in half and gave a hunk to Roo, and then scooped up a handful of grain and nuts and started to eat.
The air was chilly, but the sun warm, and after eating, Erik felt drowsy. Looking at Luis and Biggo, he felt the urge to follow their example, but fought it off. There was still work to be done and he knew de Loungville would make it harder on them if he had to tell them.
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Erik got up and woke Luis and Biggo. They saw Roo and Erik, and Biggo said, “It had better be good.”
“It is,” whispered Erik. “Come with me.”
Luis looked at Erik with eyes made even more dangerous-looking by the dark circles underneath.
As he rose, Erik asked softly, “Got your knives?”
Luis whispered, “Always,” and whipped his dagger from his belt in a motion so swift it was almost unseen. “Are there some throats in need of cutting?”
Erik said, “Follow me.”
He led them through the tents, moving quickly and pausing often to look around, as if to see if they were being observed. Erik moved to where the digging continued, as men made the quickly dug trench of the night before a deeper, wider barrier.
Reaching the work, he pointed to a stack of freshly cut dowels laying in a bundle and said, “Quickly, before they get loose! Those need to be sharpened and placed around the perimeter.”
Roo and Biggo smiled and picked up a piece each as they pulled their belt knives, but Luis glowered.
“You woke me for this?”
“Better I than de Loungville, isn’t it?”
Luis stared hard at Erik a moment. For a second he held his knife point directed at Erik, then with a grunt he leaned over, picked up a dowel, and started to sharpen it.
Roo and Biggo laughed as Erik said, “That’s good. I’m going to see that the horses are moved.”
As he left, he looked over his shoulder at the men sharpening stakes. Anyone coming across that trench would have a difficult climb over the rampart because of the stakes; and once they broke camp, they could pack them away.
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Erik moved to the other side of the large defensive square. He joined two men fashioning a drop gate out of wood cut from nearby trees. The lack of proper tools was making the job difficult, as they were basically having to cut the timber with the one ax Nahoot’s company had carried, then trim the planks with knives and daggers. Erik would have given the small amount of gold in his purse for a prope
r drag plane and some iron working tools.
Erik knew a little about woodwork, so he suggested they carve some notches and dovetail the planks together as best they could, then lash the whole thing with cord. They could run it out when they needed from inside the compound. They wouldn’t be able to break it down and carry it with them, as they had with the gate they had built at Weanat—that one had been lost with most of their other equipment outside the barrow up on the Plain of Djams.
Erik wondered about crossing the plain. Even though they were miles farther south than when they last encountered the Gilani, he knew that to encounter the diminutive warriors could spell the ruin of this mission. At the last he decided there were too many things to worry about, so he’d leave worrying to Calis and de Loungville while he just did the work that needed to be done.
After seeing the gate finished, he noticed the day was rapidly approaching noon. He ordered a couple of fires started and then decided to see if the watch had changed. He found the same men on duty since he had passed them at first light, so he went back into the tents and kicked some protesting men awake, telling them it was their turn on watch.
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He was seeing that the mess was in order for the noon meal when de Loungville returned from inter-rogating Nahoot’s men. De Loungville got off his mount and asked, “Is that parapet finished?”
Erik said, “About two hours ago.”
“Stakes?”
“Being sharpened and placed now.”
“The gate?”
“In place.”
“Sally ramp?”
“It’s being built—I doubt it will be much use, though; more than a single horse at a time and it might fall apart.”
“Has anyone changed the watch?”
“I took care of that a few minutes ago.”
“Where’s the Captain?”
“Up talking to Greylock, Praji, Vaja, and Hatonis.”
“Regular officer’s country, eh?” asked de Loungville, taking a cup from near the cook’s fire.
He dipped it into a bubbling kettle, then blew on the contents before he finally took a sip of hot soup.
Erik said, “If you say so, Sergeant. I’m still new at this.”
De Loungville surprised him with a grin, then drank his soup. Making a face, he said, “This needs some salt.” He tossed the cup down and stated walking away. “If you need me for anything, I’ll be with the Captain.”
Erik turned to one of the men near the cookpot and said, “I wonder what that was about.”
The man was named Samuel. He had served with one of the first groups taken from the gallows and had been around de Loungville for a long time.
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“Sergeant has his reasons for doing what he’s doing.”
Then he paused. After a moment he added, “But it’s the first real smile out of him since Foster died, Corporal.”
Erik started to correct the man, as no one had named him corporal officially, but then thought if it made the men do what needed to be done that much quicker, he’d be better served by keeping his mouth shut. He only shrugged. As the food was almost ready, Erik decided it was time to get the men rotating through the mess, so the sentries could get a hot meal before the next watch.
Erik oversaw the distribution of horses to those men given one day’s grace before being hunted down.
Calis made an unusual offer to them: if they would ride directly for the river Dee, to the south, then follow it to the coast before making for either Chatisthan or Ispar, he would send no one after them.
He warned them that if they followed him and his men to Port Grief, he would kill every one of them.
He also paid a small bonus in gold. The men who were turned loose swore a mercenary’s oath to do as bidden and were now getting ready to ride out of the camp.
What surprised Erik was that about twenty of Nahoot’s men were being offered a place in the company. They were being kept apart from those trained by de Loungville by being put under Greylock and they would ride with Hatonis’s clansmen, but having out-siders at this late juncture was a risk Erik was not sure he would be willing to take. Then again, he decided, that was probably why Calis was the Prince’s Eagle of Krondor and he was only an acting corporal.
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De Loungville came over and watched as Erik set up the sixty men leaving. They were being given the least desirable horses and knew it, but at least none of them were lame. They were allowed to carry a week’s worth of rations and the gold Calis gave them, as well as their weapons. All other baggage and stores were remaining with Calis’s company.
A half-dozen riders from Calis’s company would shadow the men for a half day, then return. When all were mounted and ready, the order was given and the defeated mercenaries and their escort rode out.
Erik watched them leave, then asked, “Sergeant, why are we taking on those extra men?”
De Loungville said, “Captain’s got his reasons.
You just keep an eye on them to see they do as they’re told, and don’t worry why they’re here. Just one thing: pass the word that no one is to talk about our previous set-to with the Saaur with those new men.”
Erik nodded and walked off to pass word. When he reached the center of the compound, he saw that Greylock was passing out green armbands. Erik took one and said, “What is this?”
“As of this morning, we are now Nahoot’s Grand Company.” He motioned to where de Loungville was walking, inspecting the stores they’d won. “He’s Nahoot. At least, the men who’ve joined us say Bobby looks the most like him of any of us here.”
Erik said, “And Calis figures the Saaur might think we all look alike anyway?”
Greylock grinned. “Never thought you were stupid. Glad to see I was right.” He put his hand on Erik’s shoulder and walked him away from the men gathering to pick up their armbands. Lowering his 52887_Shadow of a Dark.qxd 9/3/02 3:50 PM Page 548
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voice, he said, “Nahoot’s due to be relieved in the next few days. At least, that’s what everyone thinks.”
“So if we can pass ourselves off, then we can walk back into the Queen’s camp and no one will look at us twice.”
“Something like that. If those boys are to be believed, things are even crazier down here than they were up north of Lanada. There’s a chance we might run into someone who might remember us from up there, but it’s a slim one.”
Greylock looked around to see who was nearby, then continued. “Seems Nahoot’s boys were sent to find us.”
“That a fact or a guess?” asked Erik.
“Guess, but probably a good one. The orders were to ride out to this road and keep a lookout for any company riding down out of the mountains that didn’t have armbands and didn’t know the password. I don’t know who they were expecting to come down out of those mountains except us.”
Erik said, “You’re right. I wouldn’t bet against its being us they were looking for.”
Greylock shrugged. “Maybe they’re concerned we saw something up in that maze of caves and galleries.”
Erik said, “I saw enough to think it’s not someplace I’m in a hurry to visit again.”
Greylock grinned. “How are the horses?”
“Good. We’ve moved them and they’re fattening up on fall grass. There’s nothing here to ride that a noble back home would lose sleep over not owning, but for common mercenaries, they’re a serviceable bunch.”
“Pick me out a good one,” Greylock said. “I’ve got to get back. We’re setting new duty to get the new recruits out of our hair and then we’re going to wait.”
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“Wait for what?”
“Replacements so we can head back to join in the assault on Maharta.”
Erik shook his head. “We’ve got a funny way of fighting this war: helping the enemy take their objective.”
Greylock shrugged. “Aside from the pain and dying, war can be a pretty funny business, Erik. I’ve read every written history of war I could get my hands on, and I know this: once a plan of battle is set loose, it takes on a life of its own. And once you make contact with the enemy, the plan has little meaning anymore. It’s grab the moment so you can seize the day. Mostly it’s hoping the other side makes a mistake before you do and getting lucky.
“Calis had a plan when we started out, but once he and Nakor found what they sought out at the Queen’s camp, it’s been tossed aside and now he’s making it up as we go.”
“So he’s hoping the other side makes a mistake before we do and that we’re going to get lucky?”
“Something like that.”
“Then I’ll say a prayer to Ruthia,” said Erik as Greylock turned and walked away.
Erik thought about what he had seen so far and what he had done, and was forced to concede that Greylock was right. There was little of planning and cleverness in what Calis had done since making contact with the Queen’s army, and a great deal of boldness and hoping for luck.
Putting aside such weighty considerations, Erik decided that as long as things were settling down to routine, he’d try to get some work done on his armor and weapons. He returned to his tent and found it 52887_Shadow of a Dark.qxd 9/3/02 3:50 PM Page 550
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empty, as his three bunkmates were off working on finishing the palisades. Erik unbuckled his sword, removed his helm, and stripped off his breastplate.
He grabbed a rag and some oil he had liberated from stores and began to work on his armor. He frowned when he saw how corrosion was finding niches to take hold, and set to with a vengeance to expunge all imperfections from his breastplate.
A rider came speeding over the rise, pushing his lathered horse up the trail for all he was worth. Erik instantly turned and shouted, “Rider coming in!”