Exile to the Stars (The Alarai Chronicles) (56 page)

“So
you got the job done. That’s good, isn’t it? From your expression I would say
you aren’t all that happy about it.”

“I,
my friend, am solely responsible for starting a bureaucracy.”

Noting
Jeff’s look of disbelief, Carl nodded his head. “Yep, a bureaucracy. I will go
down in infamy as introducing these poor unsuspecting folks to a garbage
collection fee.”

“Son
of a gun. I’m riding with the Commissioner of Sanitation? Shouldn’t you be
wearing a uniform or something fancy like that?”

Carl
grinned and threw Jeff the finger. “Asshole. Actually, it isn’t all that bad. I
contract out the collection, which doesn’t take a lot of paper work. If I
wanted Imogo’s approval, it had to be self-supporting. The sewage problem,
though, is impossible at this stage since the whole city would have to be torn
up.”

Arriving
at the craft section, Carl dismounted in front of the same alchemist’s shop
Jeff remembered from his visit in the fall. As they walked in, Carl hollered
toward the back of the store, “Hey, Petto, we got any safe samples around?”

A
short, round man popped out of the back room. Grinning ear to ear, he gingerly
handed Carl a metal canister. Turning it over in his hands, he looked at the
canister with a mixture of pride and sadness.

“I’m
also in the business of death, and could really use some feedback on this one.”

Raising
an inquisitive eyebrow as encouragement, Jeff said nothing.

“I
started poking around in here right after you left. From hanging around you,
reading sci-fi and my background in chemistry, I picked up a good idea of what
these folks did for a living. Remember? Lead to Gold?

“One
of the solvents Earth’s alchemists came up with was called aqua regia, or royal
water: three parts hydrochloric acid, one part nitric acid. Sure enough, great
minds think alike and there it was sitting in a corner. Only took a few tests
to confirm it. All I had to do then was find out where Petto here got the
nitric acid fraction from, pound out some plant fiber to get the cellulose, put
the two together, and bingo.”

“Bingo?
What are you talking about?”

“Damn,
Jeff, didn’t you learn anything in high school chemistry?”

Giving
Carl a sly wink, Jeff said, “Well, there was this great blond I was assigned to
work with in the lab section. Now that was chemistry!”

“Shit.”
Carl knew he was being had but was still vexed. “Forget the tits and ass, bozo.
Put nitric acid and cellulose together in the right proportions and you get gun
cotton. Want me to spell it out?” He held the canister out to Jeff. “Got a
match?”

“Go
to hell! That’s wicked stuff, Carl. Didn’t they use to put that in torpedo
warheads?”

“You
got it. We had a few near misses, eh Petto?”

“As
you said most vocally on the first occasion, Carl, we nearly blew our goddamed
asses off.” Petto’s expression was entirely neutral, but his belly was shaking
with silent laughter.

“Way
to go, Carl. That’s some fancy English you’ve been handing out.”

“Have
your fun, Friedrick. You’ll get yours. Now, where the hell was I?” Carl
frowned, raised a finger and nodded. “Anyway, what it boils down to is this
thing in my hand. Stick a fuse in it and stand way back. Toward the end of our
test schedule we had stumps flying every which way. The question is, do we
introduce this stuff or not? How bad does the situation have to get before we
use it? Do we use it now in defense of Rugen and contribute to the deaths of
thousands later? Once you demonstrate something is possible, a lot of other
folks will figure out how it was done. I’ve had some sleepless nights over this
one, I can tell you.”

Moving
on, they visited the infirmary Carl had set up. Rather than try to convert old
hands set in their ways, he had recruited new staff and trained them in
antiseptic technique. While touring the facility, Carl reverted to their former
topic of conversation.

“It
isn’t all bad, though. If I can find a vein of bituminous coal around here, we
might be able to knock out some sulfa drugs.”

“That
salve working out all right for you?”

“In
spades. Only problem is finding the right mold this far north. I’ve got a crew
out harvesting whatever there is. That’s when it gets hard. Even if they bring
back bales of it I still have to find a way to isolate and extract the active
ingredient. After that, coming up with a tablet won’t pose a problem. Now,
developing an injectable form is going to be one tough job.”

Jeff
smiled at the excited gleam in Carl’s eye. “Sounds like fun.”

Once
outside they noticed that thunderheads had moved over the city. They weren’t
dressed for rain and hustled home, chewing on the pros and cons of gun cotton
as they went.

Dropping
their mounts off at the stable, they hurried inside to the sound of thunder and
the patter of raindrops. Entering the parlor, Jeff strode to the fireplace with
outstretched hand.

“It
is such a pleasure to see you again!”

Rengeld
stood warming his hands over the fire. While his clothing was proper in every
respect, it hung on his frame like a gunnysack. Thinner by twenty pounds or
more, his eyes were sunken and highlighted by dark circles. Rengeld gripped
Jeff’s hand with undiminished enthusiasm.

“Your
presence is a gift from the gods, Jeffrey. Were you not standing here I would
hardly credit it. Ethbar has related the gist of your winter’s journey, and I
must tell you it far outpaces those described in legend. Yet you have returned
to us with the promise of allies.”

“Let
us pray the promise is fulfilled.”

“Never
doubt what the gods ordain, Jeffrey. They will come.” Rengeld released Jeff’s
hand to accept a cup of coffee. “This evening, may I relate the results of the
scouting expedition?”

“Considering
its purpose, I would be disappointed had you not offered.”

Rengeld
waved them toward chairs but remained standing. “One detachment of troops was
set the mission of enlisting recruits, and of them I will say no more. I led
the larger body of scouts south for some days, meaning to keep rendezvous with
agents returning from Astholf and Khorgan.

“It
was a hard trip from what I see.”

“Nothing
compared to your own, Jeffrey.”

“It
was a long winter. Any evidence the Salchek are moving north?”

“No
less than a full army from Khorgan.”

“It’s
a shock to hear it, but not surprising. They want to consolidate their hold on
Arvalia as quickly as possible.”

“Yes,
before a defense can be organized.” Rengeld’s face was animated and his hands
clasped and unclasped behind his back. “From what is known at this time, the
army’s strength is judged to include four thousand Salchek in addition to three
or four thousand troops conscripted in Khorgan. Traveling with the foot
soldiers are, we estimate, one hundred of their two-wheeled fighting carts and
four hundred light cavalry. Should they continue at the pace we observed, I
judge they will arrive in no more than nine or ten weeks.”

The
room was silent as they mentally juggled timetables and a host of other
factors.

“What
of the army’s supply train?”

“An
interesting question, my friend. We counted less than two hundred wains and a
smaller number of pack animals. The point of your question?”

Jeff
carefully reviewed his reasoning. Rengeld was not a man to tolerate sloppy
thinking. “As you are aware, I am familiar with lands the Salchek must cross to
achieve investiture of Rugen. An amazing and wonderful land, but one woefully
lacking in the usual sources of food for an army on the march. There are no
cities to plunder along the way, no farms to strip of livestock. Although large
herds of grazing animals roam the prairie, they are often difficult to locate.
I am sure the Salchek know of these animals, but I doubt they would risk their
army on the hope of finding them.”

“And
what does this suggest to you?”

The
narrow-eyed way Rengeld was staring at him made Jeff pause to think it through
one more time. “It is my thought that much damage and great delay would result
if the Salchek supply train were disabled or destroyed. It is said that an army
does not long march on an empty stomach. While no expert in this matter, the
size of the supply train you recount seems adequate to feed such an army for
only a short period.”

“I
find no fault with your reasoning, but come. Let us try conclusions.”

“And
so I shall. Tales of Salchek arrogance abound, and I believe they are correct.
Certainly they have encountered no meaningful resistance to date, and did not
during their last invasion until encountering the yellow-hairs. It is my
judgment they anticipate quick reduction of Rugen. With that accomplished, the
problem of food disappears.”

 
“A man after my own heart.” Rengeld bowed
grandly to Jeff. “Your assessment further persuades me. Yes! That is where
opportunity beckons! I have most carefully weighed the Salchek Army’s food
requirements, and conclude they will have little remaining upon arrival at
these walls. Now to the manner of exploiting Salchek arrogance. Shall we
consider it?”

Ethbar
put his foot down and insisted they eat a decent meal. Rengeld was nodding off
before he finished. Ethbar sent him to get some rest, leaving the three
remaining to toss ideas around for the balance of the evening.

What
emerged by the time they called it quits for the night was the urgent necessity
of mounting a southern campaign. That night after thinking about it a long
time, Jeff shaved off his beard and folded away the last of his winter
clothing.

Rengeld
strode into the dining room during breakfast and presented his plan of attack.
Jeff agreed that a force of 200 cavalry would suit their purpose. They would
move fast, wreck havoc, and be gone. The forest spur where Jeff and Carl had
met with the combined Alarai mind would provide concealment until the time to
strike. Throughout the discussion, Jeff struggled with a personal dilemma.

The
Salchek were on the way. That meant he had to return to the moot grounds within
several weeks and get the Alemanni started south. Yet several ideas had been
taking shape since the previous evening that would demand his presence in the
expeditionary force. What to do, he thought. There has to be a way to work this
out.

That
afternoon, Jeff spent several hours in the hilltop park that had given him his
first overview of Rugen. It was the perfect location to ponder his north versus
south dilemma. Someone had planted flowers in neat beds and the fragrance helped
to settle his mind. To the west, a rain squall swept over part of the city
while bright sunshine warmed the rest. As he watched, a perfect rainbow
formed.
 

Gaereth
could probably handle the Alemanni situation, Jeff thought while admiring the
colors in the rainbow, but where was he? Had Gaereth arrived at the moot
grounds? Jeff left the park late in the day resolved to take action that had
been put off too long.

Having
communicated his intent to Balko, they sat facing each other on the floor of
their room. Joining minds with Balko, Jeff shot their combined carrier wave
north. They were getting tired when Jeff caught a tendril of thought that
seemed alien and familiar at the same time. His mind boiling with conflicting
emotion, Jeff focused the carrier wave.

“Gaereth?”
He received an impression of startled excitement.

“Jeffrey?
Where do you seek from?”

Memories
of their first meeting in a forest unknown light years away and years in the
past immediately came to mind. He didn’t know anything about Gaereth. Could he
really be his grandfather? If so, why had Gaereth left him to die in the
snowfields?

“My
wolf-brother and I are in Rugen. Matters are coming to a boil so fast that
things might come apart.”

The
connection had grown stronger, and Gaereth’s thoughts were clear as a bell.
Excitement bubbled at the surface, but underneath lay something else laden with
power and a span of time that Jeff could not comprehend.

“I
am close on arrival at the moot grounds. Will we meet there?”

Although
Gaereth seemed at ease with the connection, Jeff and Balko were straining to
hold their end open. Submerging his doubts to attend to business before he lost
it, Jeff filled Gaereth in on recent events and his dilemma.

“…And
there you have it. I really need to go with the cavalry, but that leaves the
Alemanni situation uncovered. If you would start them south and keep watch over
things along the way, it would be a great relief. My darkest fear is that some
minor quarrel will lead to a general conflict and rupture the alliance. They
are an unruly and quarrelsome lot.”

Jeff
and Balko were suddenly bathed in a glow of good humor.
“Indeed they are. I
will be happy to do what I may to keep these wild men of the North in good
spirits, and their murderous tendencies in check. I will seek your mind at this
time on the morrow. Good rest to you, Jeffrey and Balko.”