Golden Scorpio (26 page)
I said: “Bear up, Barty. That young lady can take care of herself exceedingly well.” Almost, I told him of Ros the Claw. The tiger-girl, the lissom chavonth-maiden in the black leathers.
“I believe she can, Jak.” He eyed me. He was still the same elegant refined young man; but a little of the roughness of life had him. In a lowered tone, he said: “If she is anything like her father, then I feel sorry for anyone foolish enough to offend her.”
“There is a task we must do, Barty.” I told him of the scheme, and he burbled that, by Vox! he liked the sound of it. “The food has to be grown, say the Hamalese, and the Vallian farmers must grow it. We are seeing them safely away. But some, the rasts from Havilfar mew up, set working in the fields from dawn to dusk, alongside their slaves, put guards to watch and to whip. There is such a farm near here. We have sent out a call and the men will come—”
“I know, Jak,” said Barty. “Your name carries much weight in these troublous times. The men will come.”
The men did come, stealing by night from their fastnesses in the recesses of the forests or in the hills, for although Vallia is fertile and well-settled, there is still a great deal of it and many wild places remain untenanted save in times of turmoil. The men came and we made a descent on the guarded farm and freed everyone Vallian there, free man and slave alike, and the women and children joined the procession of narrow boats to the North East and the men joined one of the growing number of resistance bands. We laughed and counted it a victory.
It was around this time, when things were going well if slowly for us and I prepared to visit Valka, that an incident occurred whose importance I had no way of knowing at the time, although later on it was to play a vital, a decisive, part in ensuring my hide stayed around my flesh and bones. Our band had freed a group of villagers and we had seen them off and we were in camp. A group of locals — peasants, they might be called in another context — who gave us surly looks and refused help were found to have actively co-operated with the Hamalians. They had sided with the Hamalians against their own kind. When they discovered their error and tried to escape they were arrested.
Now people will always be found who will collaborate; by Zair, it is a matter of weighing evils. Some of my hardened old blade comrades, and Dorgo the Clis vociferous among them, were for stringing up the guilty ones forthwith.
It fell to me to harangue the mob, there in the erratic dramatic sparkle of the campfires. I told them many of the things you have heard me say before. Human life is sacred, diff and apim alike. These were deluded people; yes, they had betrayed good folk to terrible fates; but vengeance for the sake of vengeance destroys him who so callously metes out retribution without thought of the deeper motivations. We would not slay them. They would be set free, and in the shame they would feel they would hew to the path of justice henceforth. Well, even then I was not quite naive enough to believe all of them would never sin again; but for the salvation of a few the many must go pardoned. It was a hard dialectical struggle; but in the end, and because it was Jak the Drang who spoke, my view prevailed.
A small group of people vanished out of the firelight into the shadows as my men, still a little reluctantly, released the prisoners.
That group who vanished so smartly did not belong to my people; but they were gone. They had looked hardy. So we moved on from that area, and I delayed my visit to Valka, until we had established ourselves in another place, where we began at once to cause mischief to the aragorn, the masichieri and the Hamalese.
Then, I borrowed one of Barty’s fliers and flew to Valka.
Fire Over Vallia
“No. I think the plan to be not a good plan. I do not like it. And, yes, I have been away to — away to where I have promised to speak to you of and will do when this mess is cleared up. But, as to your plan, no, my heart — in this I am not with you.”
She looked at me. I braced myself up and returned the look. It is hard to cross my Delia — hard! It is nigh impossible. But, in this, I remained adamant.
“We are safe here in the Heart Heights,” she said, and she crossed to the wall of rock and stared out and over into a vast dim blueness separating this mountain fastness from the far peaks. “We resist the aragorn and the mercenaries, the Flutsmen and the masichieri. We drive them back. Soon, we shall retake Valkanium and the war will be won. I am no longer needed here.”
“That can never be so—”
“You know what I mean! I shall return with you to Vallia and together will we eject the Hamalians—”
“I do not fight a war like this one. It is not even a proper guerilla struggle — well, more or less. It is dark and unpleasant. I prefer you to stay here and, by Zair! even here you risk yourself every day, for I know—”
“And since when have you, Dray Prescot, ever been prudent?”
I rubbed my chin, abashed. Then, stoutly, I said: “You would hardly recognize me, in these latter days. For Dray Prescot treads mighty small where once he—”
She laughed. The suns sheened in her hair, making those outrageous chestnut tints shimmer and shine. She clapped her hand to her slender waist, and half-drew her rapier.
“Dray Prescot? Aye, he lags well to the rear. All one hears these days is the name of Jak the Drang.”
“Oh,” I said. “Oh, well, he is a rascal, to be sure.”
So we wrangled. I did not intend to stay long, but one thing and another retained me in Valka. Tom Tomor and Vangar fought their wars of liberation in Veliadrin, and my Pachaks were on the verge of clearing Zamra; but the days were hot with the sounds of strife. Drak had gone to Faol to search out the Manhounds, Melow the Supple and her son Kardo, who was the true and trusted heart-comrade to Drak. Shara, Melow’s daughter, twin to Kardo, was, I understood, with my daughter Lela. And where she was—
“The Sisters of the Rose, my heart. Lela is much occupied with them in these times. From her I learn much of conditions.”
“Lela and Shara did not go with us to Aphrasöe,” I said and I know my voice sounded grim. “That must be rectified soon. I do not wish to look forward to what must follow else.”
“And Barty Vessler?”
“Dayra is looking after herself. She is well able and—”
“Oh, aye. She learned well with the SoR — so well that she spurns us and goes her own ways.” My Delia sounded hurt and more than a little bitter, which struck me with agony.
“So you finish your work in Valka. I will work on in Vallia. I called in on Forli and scouted MichelDen hoping to find Lykon Crimahan and report on his success. But there was no sign of him and the kovnate was still infested.”
“He came on here, dejected, and now he is in the north, trusting that when we have cleared Valka and the islands we will march on MichelDen for him. His trust is not misplaced.”
“Something may be made of him, yet. But I must play all the time on Vondium. Farris is flying back with me, eager to take over in Vomansoir. The people will welcome him — the fighting bands that remain, for we have made a clearance there.”
“You take Farris and you will not take me!”
“No.”
Down below in the shelter of the next terraced rocky wall a pastang of Valkan Archers marched out to take up their sentry posts. Delia had worked well in Valka. Those regiments of ours so treacherously sent to the north of the Mountains of the North had not been heard of. I could only trust they continued in existence. Of fliers, all Vallians were pitifully short, and the Flutsmen still roamed, reiving and murdering from the air.
Around the capital, Vondium, I was drawing the net in tighter and tighter. I say I — I mean Jak the Drang. From Vomansoir we had extended to Rifuji and Nav Sorfall immediately to the east. Naghan Vanki, the old emperor’s spymaster, had gone to ground and messengers from Jak the Drang sought his active assistance. The capital of Vallia, Vondium the Proud, was surrounded by imperial provinces, as seemed only wise. To the west of the Great River lay Vond, and to the east, Hyrvond. The river ran a long east-west reach here and to the north lay Bryvondrin. In all these imperial provinces the emperor’s Justicar had been foully murdered, and men had been in despair. Now the infamous bands of Jak the Drang brought a new resistance and a fresh hope. The net drew in.
We went in presently to sit down to a sumptuous repast, by the reduced standards of the Valka of those days. But there was food and the rations were evenly spread among all.
Delia saw I meant what I said, and contented herself only by saying: “You will take a force of Valkans with you? Some of your Freedom Fighters, old blade comrades—”
“I have but Barty’s voller, and that will take a bare fifty.”
“Then take fifty fighting men of Valka, for they thirst to battle alongside their strom.”
I cocked a cautious eye at her. Her color was up. So I knew what she intended. Slowly, I shook my head.
“You need all the fighting men here, my heart. And I find men who were stylors and farmers and cobblers and a thousand other trades springing up overnight into warriors.” She had listened enthralled to my story of the Phalanx. “And, sweet schemer,” and that bit of sickly-sweet sarcasm aroused her, by Vox! “I do not want another stowaway as—”
“You knew all the time, then, before we fought at the Crimson Missals!”
“Mayhap I did. But you are essential here. Do you not think the Freedom Fighters of Valka relish battling alongside their Stromni?”
She lowered her eyelids; but she was mightily put out.
“And,” I went on remorselessly. “You are not to venture yourself so. Do not go to froward into the battle.”
“If I go froward it is because of—” And she stopped, and bit her lip, and so we gazed on each other.
When the time at last arrived when I could tarry no longer and I forced myself to tear myself away, that same Dray Prescot who was Lord of Strombor and Krozair of Zy, besides being Strom of Valka and, now, for his sins, some kind of Emperor of Vallia, she handed me a rolled bundle. It was scarlet. I knew what it was.
“I go back to being Jak the Drang.”
“I know. Yet, at the end, methinks you will fly your own battle flag, that famous tresh men sing of, the battle standard Old Superb.”
I took the flag. My hands brushed hers. So, for a space, we clung together. Then, with a stony face and a bursting heart, I went out to Barty’s voller, and called the Remberees, and took off slanting into the morning blaze from the twin suns, from Zim and Genodras, the Suns of Scorpio fiery and glorious over the face of Kregen.
I did not unroll the flag. I stowed the tresh, Old Superb, away and wondered when, if ever, I would fly that battle banner above the hosts of liberated Vallia.
Looking back now I can see more clearly and understand many things that puzzled me at the time. The very completeness of the clearance of Hawkwa country, the repulse of the Iron Riders, impressed all who heard of it. The Iron Riders had shattered army after army of the Iron Legions of Hamal. And then a new army had arisen from the very people of Vallia themselves, a young, brave, confident army, and had routed the radvakkas utterly. No wonder men talked with bated breath of the accomplishment. All those months of labor had borne mighty fruit. The time had been well spent. No one sought to enquire into the character of that new Vallian army, to wonder how it would perform against the Hamalese. It had won. The laurels of victory crowned its spears.
And — the man who had accomplished this, the notorious Jak the Drang, had aroused the countryside, was gathering a host against Vondium. Then arm, friends! Gather yourselves for the final struggle — once the capital is Vallian once more then the rest of the country must follow.
I did not miss, also, the interesting if ironical fact that this had been made possible by those very people who had once sought so violently to free themselves from Vondium, to become independent within the empire. There were strong forces of Hawkwas who persisted with the old and, in my view, fallacious dream. But the hosts of the North East marched with Jak the Drang for a strong and comradely and united Vallia.
Mind you, I did not share the view that with the repossession of Vondium our problems would be solved. The vaster reaches of the island empire would remain in non-Vallian hands. But, I did admit, if not the end of the affair, then the capture of Vondium would signal the end of the beginning.
Delia had proved herself her usual self in her packing of the flier for the return journey. Among the contents of the many wicker hampers, beside food and weapons, were lengths of scarlet cloth...
Farris, the Lord of Vomansoir, piloted for some of the time. We had much to say, one to the other, yet the words were hard to come by... He welcomed my news of the recent events in his province. He had fought most valiantly in Valka and I in Vomansoir, so we were well quitted.
“Once we march into Vondium, majister,” he said. “Once the people can look with renewed hope to a strong central power—”
“Not majister, Farris. Jak the Drang. And a strong central power as you put it may be a mischief in itself.”
“You do not believe that!”
“Sometimes I do not. But, sometimes, I wonder. All I want to do is let Vallia alone. To let the people lead their own lives as they wish, happily.” Then I was forced to add, to make absolutely sure Farris understood: “And we shall free all the slaves. It will take time and it will be a messy business; but I am resolved.”
“There will be much opposition — vigorous and violent opposition. But you know that.”
“Aye. I know that.”
During his sojourn with my people in Valka Farris had seen much of our ways, and understood much more clearly the way we thought Vallia should go. That we were right was a guiding principle; and we recognized the pitfalls in this kind of blind arrogance and arrogation of superiority. But the sights and smells and sounds of the slave bagnios reinforced our determination to go on, in humility, believing that what we did, in very truth, was the right course.
“The men who were once slaves fight right stoutly in the new forces of Vallia,” I told Farris. “They fight because they have been promised their freedom.” However despicable a device that may be, I tried to think that in this case it was genuine, that the stalwart brumbytes, those ferocious Hakkodins, the prowling fighters of the bands closing now on Vondium, would not be betrayed. Then I would brighten. Anyway, I would say, who was there who would force them back under the yoke of slavery when they had formed an army, had seen what free men might do, had found themselves as men? There would be farms and workshops and goodly livings for them in the imperial provinces alone.
