Honored Enemy (9 page)

the Tsurani? There was no time to think of that now. It was time to run.

Behind him, the bloodlusting cries of the moredhel echoed in the clearing and the forest.

The hunt was on.

48

three

Moredhel

Asayaga gasped for breath.

‘Keep moving, keep moving, keep moving. . .’

The words were a chant, a prayer, blanking out his own agony.

One of his men was down, collapsed in the middle of the slushy trail. He slowed. Strike Leader Tasemu was standing over the man, struggling to pull him up.

‘Keep moving,’ Asayaga snapped, slapping the fallen warrior across the shoulder blades with the flat of his sword.

The warrior looked up. It was Sugama.

‘Damn you. You are an officer!’ Asayaga hissed at him so the men wouldn’t overhear. ‘Act like one. You were suppose to run lead with the scouts!’ As much as he despised the Tondora dog, he would not undermine his authority in front of the men. Not for the first time, Asayaga cursed this war in which officers not of his own house were sent to serve with his men.

Sugama staggered to his feet and lurched forward. Tasemu gazed at Asayaga and shook his head. Asayaga said nothing.

He looked back over his shoulder. His command was strung out on the trail behind them. Those who were not totally preoccupied with their own pain had seen the exchange, the humiliation of an officer from one House by another. They would of course say nothing, for the behaviour of their Force Commander made it clear it was to be ignored. Yet, they would think on it, and some might mention it quietly while on guard duty or around a cook-fire to those who 49

had not witnessed it, and many of his men would dwell on one thing: that one whom they were expected to obey without question was obviously a flawed man, one who had been sent to the front for reasons having nothing to do with his competence as a soldier. He was either a man acting as a spy for the Minwanabi, an incompetent someone higher up in his clan wished to see conveniently dead, or both. That would give the men pause at critical moments, and Asayaga knew other men might die as a result.

If only there had been one more Kodeko officer left alive. Only one other Kodeko son remained on the homeworld, and should Asayaga be slain, the mantle of leadership would fall to his younger brother Tacumbe, but the last son of the House would never be sent here.

Again he silently cursed a cruel destiny that left his house with no other competent officers at hand, and Minwanabi machinations that placed this fool at his right hand. If they survived this nightmare, he would name Tasemu his Force Leader, even though the man’s talents were better suited for his present role. He would return Sugama to his own family and let him deal with his shame. Fatalistically, Asayaga allowed himself the thought he couldn’t be more of an enemy to the House of Tondora than he already was.
They
can
only
kill
me
once
, he thought as he again looked to see where his men were.

Motioning Sugama ahead he pressed on up the trail. Watching the back of the man as he hurried ahead, Asayaga wondered whether, if he fell, Tasemu would take commands from Sugama.

Another
very
good
reason
not
to
get
killed
any
time
soon
, he thought dryly.

The storm abated slightly as the day passed. As they turned a bend in the trail he could see a notch in the ridgeline ahead, the crests of the mountains to either side of the pass were concealed by the low grey clouds of the storm.

He paused for a moment, staring up the trail. He had never been this far north, for the ridgeline had always been a backdrop to his war, a distant mystery.

Hakaxa, his lead scout, was down on his knees, gasping for air, with Sugama bent double beside him. Hakaxa looked up as Asayaga approached.

‘Crest of trail just ahead.’

50

Tasemu grunted. ‘The crest. At the pass, they’ll have something there.’

Asayaga nodded. He looked back again. His men were staggering forward, pressing stoically up the steep incline.

‘Five minute rest here,’ Asayaga announced. ‘I’ll scout ahead.’

Tasemu cocked his head slightly, gazing at him with his one good eye. ‘No. Sugama with me.’

Tasemu gave him a bit of a hopeful gaze but Asayaga ignored it.

No, there would be no knife in the back.

‘Sugama,’ Asayaga said quietly, and continued on. He could hear the ragged gasps for breath as Sugama struggled to stay up.

The storm was blowing straight into their faces from the north, and he could hear the moaning of the wind as it whistled through stunted trees in the pass just ahead.

He held his hand out, motioning for Sugama to stop, looked back and touched his nose, then flared his nostrils. Sugama stopped, looked at him curiously, and finally realized what Asayaga was signifying. He sniffed the air. His eyes grew wide.

Good,
let
him
learn
that
he
must
use
all
senses
out
here.

Asayaga drifted to the side of the trail and moved forward cautiously. The trail turned and his heart froze. Sugama slipped up to his side and a sigh of anguish escaped him.

Asayaga found himself staring intently at a stockade wall. The pass over the top of the mountains went through a notch, the walls of the pass sloping up nearly vertically for a hundred or more feet to either side. The passage was barricaded by a stone wall a dozen feet high, with a crude wooden gate in the centre. Beyond the wall he saw the roof of what must be a garrison house. He sighed inwardly at the thought of the comfort that must lie within.

He saw no one, but the smoke gave it all away. This far north the garrison had to be moredhel.

‘Can we go around it?’ Sugama asked, whispering.

Asayaga shook his head. ‘Not enough time. We don’t know how close the pursuit is – those Kingdom soldiers may have bought us time, but we don’t know how much. If we try to crawl our way over the mountain to either side, and the moredhel are still chasing us, we’ll be destroyed. They’ll go through the pass ahead, cut us off . . .’

51

‘But if we attack and those behind us, Kingdom or moredhel, come up, we’re doomed.’

Asayaga forced a grin. ‘We take it quickly and hold it. Then let the bastards from the Kingdom sit on the outside while the Dark Brothers come up and finish them. With forty good men I could hold it against three to four hundred. ‘And besides,’ he added, ‘it’s warm in there. We need rest, hot food, and a place to dry out.’

His words trailed off as he caught a glimpse of movement. A sentry, cloak pulled up over his head, peered over the top of the wall for a moment. Asayaga sensed that the sentry was looking straight at him, he froze. Long seconds passed and the head disappeared.

Asayaga crept back from the tree and started down the trail, Sugama following.

‘What you did back there, striking me,’ Sugama hissed, trying to force the words out through ragged gasps for breath.

Asayaga slowed, fixing him with his gaze. ‘If you are demanding a duel there’s no damn time now. No time for Tsurani honour, no time even for the Great Game, you Minwanabi lapdog. There is time only for survival. If we die, I can’t return home to see my younger brother grown, and you can’t serve your masters. Dead, neither of us serves. Do you understand?’

Sugama’s anger slowly subsided, and he looked around. Asayaga could almost see the comprehension dawning on the man as to just how alien this world was, how far from home they were, and how trivial matters of honour and politics were at this moment.

Asayaga also knew that Sugama had never experienced cold like this in his life.

‘It’s going to get colder tonight, cold enough that if you sleep, you die.’

Sugama finally nodded.

Asayaga said, ‘Good. I need you to help lead. If we are to survive, no man can question your orders. A man who hesitates, who looks to me or Tasemu to see if your order is to be obeyed may get all of us killed. I need you to follow me through this as if I were Ruling Lord of your House. If we survive to get home safely, then we resolve this matter as you like; I will publicly fight a duel, or you may return to the Minwanabi and ask them to send an assassin to kill 52

me. Whatever your honour dictates. But I will let you return home freely and unencumbered if you serve the men who obey us now.’

Sugama looked straight at him, stunned by the bluntness of Asayaga’s words.

‘We have no time,’ Asayaga repeated. ‘Will you co-operate?’

Finally Sugama nodded. Without comment, Asayaga gave him a single nod in return, then moved back down the trail, rounding the bend. He knew Sugama was a Minwanabi spy, but he was also a Tsurani noble, and he would never violate this trust. Asayaga had nothing more to fear from him until they were safely behind their own lines. Then there would come a reckoning.

One of his archers tensed, then lowered his bow, arms trembling, as they approached. The cold, the exhaustion, the fact that everyone was soaked to the skin was taking its toll. He had to seize the stockade or none of his command would survive the night.

The last of his men came up, Asayaga looked at them inquiringly.

‘Not sure, Force Commander,’ one of them reported, ‘several times I thought I heard something . . .’ He shrugged. ‘It was hard to tell with this wind.’

‘They’re close,’ Tasemu interjected softly.

Asayaga looked over. The old Strike Leader was staring at him with his one good eye. Tasemu had ‘the sense’.

Asayaga nodded, ordering the men to gather around.

‘Good news,’ Asayaga announced. The men looked at him, shivering, pushed to the final limit of exhaustion.

‘I found a nice warm cabin ahead. A hot fire, dry bedding, plenty of cooked food, perhaps even some hot wine that will put the fire back in your bellies.’

Some of them looked up, a few allowed their Tsurani impassivity to break with slight smiles.

‘We have to kill the owners first. Forest Demons.’

They huddled in close as he explained what had to be done, gazing into their eyes, trying to judge their strength, and also the desperation needed to charge a position not properly scouted.

The men formed up, the few carrying shields deployed to the front ranks, archers to the rear and flanks. As required by tradition he took the centre of the first rank of five.

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There was no need to issue the command, he simply stepped forward, the tiny phalanx shuffled, stepping off to keep pace. He moved slowly at first, giving them a few extra minutes to get their wind even as they advanced up the steep slope.

Finally they turned the last bend in the trail and the stockade was directly ahead. He continued the walking pace for a few more seconds, perhaps the guard would be looking the other way, but even as the thought formed the high piercing wail of a horn echoed.

‘Charge!’

They sprinted straight for the gate, Asayaga leading the way, stumpy legs churning through the slushy snow. The range closed, fifty paces, forty, down to thirty. The lone guard raised a bow, took aim, and released the string. Asayaga heard the snap of the arrow hit the shield of the man next to him.

The gate loomed up in front of them and Asayaga braced himself for the impact. Without slowing the phalanx crashed into the wooden barrier, over four tons of human flesh and armour acting as a battering ram.

He had hoped that the barrier log would not be in place, or would be so weak that they’d crash right in. He felt the log gate give inward, groaning, his men continuing to push, running in place, feet slipping, churning up the frozen ground beneath.

The gate held.

The warrior to his left collapsed without a sound. A rock the size of a human head had crushed his skull in. Asayaga looked up.

Directly above were half a dozen moredhel, several throwing rocks, one aiming a bow straight down at them. Spears arced up, catching one, but the rest loosed their deadly loads and several more men dropped.

The effort at the gate was useless. He couldn’t retreat now.

‘Spread out along the wall!’ Asayaga screamed, ‘Stay against the wall. Archers! Keep them down!’

His men spread out. He caught a glimpse of Tasemu dragging a wounded recruit up against the wall. Pressed hard against the stones they were relatively safe; an archer would have to lean over to shoot and his own archers deployed to either side of the trail 54

and back a couple of dozen yards were effective in keeping the enemy down.

Asayaga waited a couple of minutes, trying to judge just how many were on the other side. If a dozen or less, perhaps his own archers could take most of them out. Two more minutes passed slowly.

A few rocks arced over the wall but his men remained pressed against the side of the stockade and were safe. It was a stalemate.

‘We can’t stay here forever. I think our pursuers are close. If so they’ll slaughter us out here.’

It was Tasemu.

Asayaga nodded. ‘Pair up!’ he shouted. ‘Every other man vaults the wall. Get ready!’

Tasemu started to sheath his sword.

‘No, I go first.’

Softly, the old warrior asked, ‘Will you stop trying to get yourself killed?’