Demontech: Gulf Run (26 page)

Tracker gave her an impatient look—of course he was sure. But before he could find the words to say so that wouldn’t be insulting, Spinner interrupted him.

“Alyline, I can go into any city in the world where there are civilians and soldiers, all in civilian garb, and point out man by man which is a civilian, which a soldier, and be right ninety-nine times out of a hundred. More, nine times out of ten, I can tell what army they are from and what kind of unit. It’s easy when you know how.”

Alyline cocked an unbelieving eyebrow at him, but let it go when Phard nodded and said he could as well.

“What about weapons?” Spinner asked Tracker. “Did you see any cache or dump that might be the prisoners’ weapons?”

Tracker shook his head. “No, lord. The only weapons I saw were those carried by the Jokapcul.”

Spinner considered this for a long moment; that there were Jokapcul on the beach was very bad news. He thought the caravan should continue onward without doing anything to attract their attention. On the other hand, he felt they should free the prisoners. The addition of more than five hundred soldiers would be a great boon to the survival of the caravan.

But more than half a thousand Jokapcul … They didn’t have the strength to attack that strong a force. Besides, there were those Desert Men north of the road. What would the Desert Men do when they heard the sounds of battle along the shore? So what were they to do?

“Did you also see Jokapcul and prisoners?” he asked Birdwhistle.

“No, Lord Spinner,” Birdwhistle said solemnly, though he felt sheepish—Tracker’s report made his seem insignificant in comparison. “I saw magicians and demons.” He related the discussion, of which he’d heard one side—or at least as much of it as he could make sense of. He began, “There was a Lalla Mkouma—”

“You’re sure it was a Lalla Mkouma?” Xundoe interrupted.

Birdwhistle held one hand about a foot above the other. “A voluptuous woman-creature with very long hair, wearing a diaphanous gown.”

Xundoe nodded. “Continue.”

“A Lalla Mkouma, a troll—”

“How do you know it was a troll?” the mage demanded.

“I’ve seen one.” He held a hand just above elbow height. “It was gnarly and its skin looked like it could rasp the rust off iron.”

Xundoe began to ask another question, but Spinner cut him off.

“Let him finish his report, then ask questions.”

Xundoe nodded acquiescence, and Birdwhistle gave his report without further interruption.

“Describe the demons you didn’t know,” Xundoe asked the instant he thought Birdwhistle was finished. He nodded at the descriptions and asked questions about a few details. “The big one was a djinn, the small, ebon man-thing an exus, and the big dog was a Black Dog,” he said, nodding when his questions were answered. He looked around at the others. “They are very bad. The only good thing is, it sounds like they don’t want to work for the Jokapcul.”

“But they have to, because there isn’t food to support them in the forest north of the Gulf,” Fletcher said.

Xundoe made a face. “That’s what the Jokapcul
want
the demons to think.”

“Is there food for them?” Spinner asked hopefully.

Xundoe spread his hands. “I don’t know what Black Dogs and exus eat, meat I imagine. Djinn can eat anything.” He briefly lay a long finger against his cheek. “Or, actually I’m not sure djinn eat anything at
all
. The Elementary Demon Keeping course I took didn’t cover djinn feeding habits. Lalla Mkouma can eat anything people can eat—at least for a short while. Trolls
will
eat anything, including rocks.” He glanced at Spinner. “So there is food for them, or for most of them. Maybe they’re new to this world and don’t know what they can eat here?”

“Do you think that was all the demons?” Spinner asked.

“There probably weren’t demons of other types, except for watchers and spitters. It’s too bad Birdwhistle didn’t see them from the front.” He waved off Birdwhistle’s correction. “Yes, yes, I know you saw the Lalla Mkouma from the front. But they’re pretty independent. The others have a leader when they move in packs, and sometimes the leader wears an emblem of some sort. If you’d seen the other demons from the front, you might have seen something that would identify them as leaders. So we don’t know if the Jokapcul only have one of each kind or several.”

Tracker was watching east during Birdwhistle’s report. He broke in to say, “Here comes Hunter,” another of the Border Warders.

In moments, Hunter joined them, panting lightly from his long run. Geshio followed close behind on horseback.

“Archer and I found strangers south of the road, Lord Spinner,” Hunter reported. “A war party, I believe.” He went on to describe a band similar to the Desert Men they discovered north of the road.

“Were there women and children with them?” Alyline asked.

“No, lady. Only men, all armed and looking ready for a fight. That’s why I think it’s a war party.”

Geshio’s arrival headed off any other questions from the Golden Girl.

“Did any of the other Border Warders see anything?” Spinner asked the Royal Lancer.

“No, Lord Spinner.”

“Did you find them all?”

“I did.”

That was a relief, Spinner thought. But everything was so far beyond his experience and training, he barely had a hint of where to start making plans. He needed help.

“Guma, send runners to get the other company commanders,” he said.

Guma immediately dispatched three lancers, one to get each of the company commanders.

Spinner next turned to Birdwhistle and Tracker. “Go back and keep an eye on the Jokapcul. Let me know if they move—and try to get a better count of both Jokapcul and prisoners.” To Hunter, “Return to Archer, let me know if those Desert Men move or make any changes in their disposition.” And finally to Geshio, “Find the other Border Warders and tell them to stay in place and to report back if they see anybody else.” Not only did he need more information about the strangers, he was certain Rammer would also. He wished Silent and Wolf were near. They would be able to find out more about who else might be out there than anybody else, or find a route around the Jokapcul and the Desert Men. But they were ranging somewhere to the rear of the caravan, and nobody would be able to find them unless they wanted to be found. So he turned again to Guma. “Send someone to Lieutenant Jatke, tell him I need a squad of Borderers.”

Spinner was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn’t notice Phard’s nod of approval. The grizzled veteran was now more certain than ever that he’d made the right choice when he put himself and his men under the command of the two Frangerians.

Shortly, Rammer, Geatwe, and Mearh arrived. Spinner quickly filled them in.

“We need to know more about what’s to our north,” Rammer said, looking suspiciously in that direction. “And we need to know more about the prisoners and their guards.”

“I’ve already sent for a squad of Borderers, and instructed Birdwhistle and Tracker to learn more.”

Rammer turned his head and eyed Spinner for a moment. His look said that he realized he’d done a better job of training the young Marine than he had assumed. Finally, he said, “If I can think of anything you haven’t already done, I’ll let you know.”

Spinner blanched. He didn’t think he’d thought of everything; he knew there had to be more. But if Sergeant Rammer couldn’t think of anything else … He looked to the other company commanders. None of them had any suggestions either. Rammer and the others—Phard, Geatwe, Mearh, Guma, all older men who had far more experience—seemed to think that he and Haft were doing well as commanders. He hoped they were.

Kovasch arrived at the head of a squad of Borderers and sketched a quick salute as he jumped off his horse. “What does Lord Spinner want us to do?” he asked. From the tone of his voice, the Royal Lancer sent to get the Borderers had already given him details of why the caravan had been stopped.

Spinner told him what they knew and what he wanted the Skraglander to find out. He looked around to see if anybody had anything to add. No one did, so he said, “Do it.”

“Immediately, Lord Spinner.” Kovasch turned to his squad and barked, “You heard the man. Let’s go!” The Borderers would follow the tracks left by Haft and the two Royal Lancers. They’d leave their horses with theirs and head north and northeast on foot from there.

Now the rest of them had nothing to do but wait. Everyone else looked so calm, but to Spinner, waiting was the hardest part.

IV

FULL FRONTAL
ASSAULT

CHAPTER

FIFTEEN

The scouts had made no attempt to avoid leaving tracks. To the Borderers, following them was almost like following a well-traveled road. They stopped and dismounted when they reached the three tethered horses.

“Tether mounts,” Kovasch ordered as he looped his reins low around the trunk of a bumber tree with a knot he could undo with a simple yank. “Wait, I’ll be back. Be alert.” He followed the faint traces of men’s footprints to where Haft had the Desert Men under observation. His men tethered their horses, mindful as Kovasch had been to leave them where they could reach grazing. They were well-trained and disciplined, they didn’t need to be told to pair off and form a defensive perimeter once their horses were seen to.

When Kovasch reached the place where the footprints turned and disappeared behind the fan tree into the rocks, he stopped and chortled the call of an oriole common in both Skragland and Zobra, but foreign to the north coast of Princedon Gulf. He knew Border Warders would recognize the call and immediately know someone was signaling them; he didn’t know that about Haft and the lancers. He positioned himself where someone who had gone beyond the fan tree could see him. After a moment he moved at an angle, so he could see partway around the fan tree without getting close to it, and chortled the call again.

He saw a flash of blue—the color of the Royal Lancers’ surcoat—and an arm stuck out and waved him forward. He entered the U and found Naedre alone. The lancer touched finger to lips and, as soon as Kovasch nodded, disappeared into a hole in the eastern rock face. A moment later Haft came out of the hole and gave the same finger-to-lips signal before signaling him to follow. He went back into the hole. Kovasch followed.

The Borderer leader saw the Desert Men lounging along the stream, no women or children and no weapons ready, just as he’d heard. After a few minutes Haft tapped his shoulder and they left the observation point. Haft led the way out of the rocks to where they could speak quietly.

“You saw?” Haft asked. Kovasch nodded. “They’ve been like that since I first saw them. We haven’t found any sentries.”

“But those rocks are such an obvious place to watch from,” Kovasch said in wonder.

Haft nodded. “Yes, it’s very strange. Lyft and Naedre searched nearly half a mile from the road to the north and didn’t find any sentries or signs of anyone but this group.”

“There’s another group like them south of the road,” Kovasch said. “And the Border Warders found Jokapcul with magicians on the beach.”

Haft grimaced and looked to the south, then back to the Borderer. “We need to find out if anyone is farther north.”

“That’s what Lord Spinner said. He agrees it’s very strange. He wants to find a way around them.” He nodded in the direction of the Desert Men.

“What does Sergeant Rammer say?” Haft asked.

“He agrees.”

“How many of you are there?”

“I have ten men with me, all good forest men and trackers.”

“Good. Split into pairs and scout to the north, cover as much ground as you can. Are your horses with ours?” When Kovasch nodded, he continued, “Leave one man with the horses.”

“That was my plan also.”

“Good. Go. Report back before sundown if you don’t find anything. Or sooner if you do.”

Kovasch nodded once more and grasped Haft’s extended hand. He turned and hurried back to where he’d left his men. Haft watched him for a few seconds, then returned to watch the Desert Men.

Five pairs of Skraglander Borderers, clad in homespun and the skins of shaggy animals that didn’t live in this odd forest above Princedon Gulf, headed north and fanned out. One pair went to the escarpment to look for passage through it or to its top—either as a route for the caravan to take, or that by which the Desert Men had come to where they now waited. Another prowled an area half a mile wide by two miles long directly north of the Desert Men; they had to have left sign there. The third pair searched a similar area directly to the north, and the fourth a mile-wide strip reaching north from that area to half a mile south of the escarpment. The final pair headed west, in search of any Desert Men who might be closer to the caravan.

They didn’t know if the Desert Men had enough skill to hide their tracks, but it didn’t matter. The comites—the beasts the Desert Men rode—couldn’t hide the soft marks of their feet, splayed wide to allow them to walk easily on sand. There was a clear trail along the side of the stream by which the Desert Men sat in such unnatural calmness. The Borderers examined the trail and pondered. The trail looked like the padding of several hundred of the beasts—but the way the prints went in both directions, southbound over north, it could have been the same couple of hundred making the round trip more than once, or maybe the Desert Men camped by the stream now had relieved an earlier band.

The stream itself came out of a wide gap in the escarpment. Kovasch and Dongolt cautiously entered the gap. Its walls were very steep but not sheer, and scree piled at their bottoms. The ground of the gap’s bottom sloped gently down on both sides to the watercourse, which showed signs of frequent flooding and course change. Knee-high, hardy grasses and a few low-lying bushes grew between the scree and the watercourse; it was barren of trees, but there were trees visible beyond the gap. Both men nocked arrows and ran crouched through the hundred yards of the gap. They knelt behind trees and examined their surroundings.

Beyond the broad gap in the escarpment’s face was a huge bowl with sides that sloped up to the height of the south-facing cliffs. Inside the bowl they saw the same bumber and fan trees they’d seen between the escarpment and the road, mixed in with leafy trees that cast proper shadows. A wide swath on the south side of the bowl was clear of leafy and fan trees and only sparsely dotted with the bumbers. The north side, or as much of it as they could see from where they knelt, was modestly covered with leafy trees. In between, the trees were thick enough that it was hard to see all the way through in any direction other than to their rear or directly to the sides—and hard to estimate distances. They were pretty sure the bowl was more than a half mile in diameter, but less than a mile. It was probably deeper than it was wide. The undergrowth was thinner than they would have expected had it not been for the signs of flooding in the gap—frequent floods would kill undergrowth before it could flourish.