The Redemption of Althalus (62 page)

“Try not to get
too
much blood on the floor, Sergeant,” Andine said half seriously. “Marble stains
so
badly.”

“I’ll try my best to be neat,” Khalor promised.

Dhakan signaled the waiting trumpeters, and they blew a lengthy, somewhat involved fanfare.

Then imperious Andine, with armored Eliar in close attendance, marched stately and slowly to her throne while the now-silent Generals bowed.

“Keep yours ears open, Leitha,” Althalus murmured to the blond girl. “It’s almost certain that Argan’s recruited some of the Generals.”

“I’ll locate them,” Leitha promised.

Emmy the cat was sitting on Andine’s throne, carefully bathing her face. She meowed inquiringly as Andine approached.

“There you are,” Andine said, gathering Emmy up in her arms. “Where have you been hiding, you naughty cat?” Then, with Emmy in her arms, she seated herself on the throne, even as the Generals went back to their conversations.

There was a speaker’s lectern directly in front of the dais, and Lord Dhakan positioned himself behind it and rapped his knuckles on the slanted top of the lectern. “Your attention, please, gentlemen.”

The Generals largely ignored him and continued their conversations.

“Be silent!” Andine commanded in her soaring voice.

The Generals stopped talking immediately.

“Thank you, my Arya,” Dhakan murmured.

“What’s this all about, Dhakan?” a bulky general in a gilded breastplate demanded.

“We seem to have this little war going on, General Terkor,” Dhakan replied. “Had you noticed that?”

The General smiled faintly. “I’m sure you’ll get to the point here eventually, Dhakan,” he said, “hopefully before it gets too much hotter in this room.”

“You take so much of the fun out of my life when you do that, Terkor,” Dhakan complained. “Anyway, I’d like to introduce you all to a certain Sergeant Khalor. I’d strongly suggest that you all make every effort to be polite to him, since he’s a bit short-tempered, and you
will
be taking orders from him.”

“I’m a General, Dhakan,” Terkor snapped. “I
don’t
take orders from Sergeants.”

“We’ll miss you terribly, General Terkor,” Dhakan murmured. “We’ll give you a nice funeral, though.”

Then Khalor stepped through the door and strolled almost casually toward the dais, negligently carrying the battle-ax. “If I may?” he said to Lord Dhakan, pointing at the lectern.

“Of course, Sergeant Khalor,” Dhakan said politely, stepping aside.

Khalor took his place behind the lectern, and he stood there silently listening to the outraged Generals babble to each other.

The sound the ax made as it splintered the lectern immediately stopped all conversation.

“There goes the furniture,” Andine murmured, rolling her eyes upward.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” Khalor roared in a voice that could have been heard all the way across a parade ground. “We’ve got a lot to cover here, so shut up and pay attention.”

“Who do you think you are?” General Terkor demanded, drawing himself up.

“I’m the man who’s going to split you right down the middle if you open your mouth again,” Khalor barked. “Let’s get all this silly nonsense about rank and titles out of the way right now. I’m an Arum, and our titles of rank don’t mean the same things they mean down here in the low country. In my clan, ‘Sergeant’ means ‘Commander in Chief,’ but let’s lay that aside for now.” He held up the battle-ax. “Do you see this?” he said. “
This
is my rank, and it puts me in charge of this little get-together. If any of you wants to object, I’ll be more than happy to fight him—right here and now.”

“He makes that same speech all the time,” Eliar said quietly to the others on the dais. “Nobody ever takes him up on it, for some reason.”

The Generals were all staring at the ax Khalor was holding over his head.

“Excellent, gentlemen,” Khalor said. “We’re getting along just fine, aren’t we? Now, then, you’ve recently been invaded by the hired army of the idiot in Kanthon, and your charming little Arya has hired me to tell them to go home. Our enemy—at least on the surface—is the Aryo of Kanthon. I know him very well, since I led his armies the last time he declared war on Osthos. His name’s Pelghat, and he hasn’t got a brain in his head. I hope this won’t offend you gentlemen, but this perpetual war here in Treborea’s beginning to bore me, so this time I’m going to finish it once and for all.
Your
concern will be the defense of
this
city, and nothing more. Don’t interfere with anything I’m doing in the other cities or out in the countryside, because I’ll climb all over you if you try. Arya Andine hired
me
to fight this war, and I’ll take care of it for her. The young fellow standing beside her throne is Corporal Eliar, and he works for me. When he tells you something, he’s speaking for me, so don’t argue with him. I’ve laid out this campaign in great detail, and I’m bringing in armies from places you’ve probably never even heard of. I know exactly what I’m doing, and I don’t need any advice—or interference—from amateurs. First, I’m going to annihilate the invading armies, and then I’m going to go destroy the city of Kanthon. This
will
be the last war in Treborea, gentlemen, so enjoy it while you can, and let’s concentrate on doing it right.”

Then Khalor rubbed his thumb along the edge of the battle-ax. “Nicked it a little,” he noted. He looked at the sentry standing at the door to the throne room. “I’m sorry I dented your ax, soldier,” he apologized. “I thank you for the use of it, and use lots of water on the grindstone when you’re polishing the nick out of the blade.”

“Yes, my Sergeant!” the soldier barked, snapping to attention.

“You gentlemen are lucky to have people like that boy in your army,” he told the Generals. Then he shifted his grip on the ax handle. “Here, soldier, catch!” he called to the sentry. Then he swung his arm back and sent the ax spinning over the heads of the cringing Generals, and the sentry expertly snared the whirling weapon out of the air.

“Nice catch,” Khalor called.

The sentry grinned at him and resumed his post beside the door.

C H A P T E R     T H I R T Y - O N E

A
fter the shaken Generals had been dismissed, Andine led the way to her private quarters. “If you’ll all excuse me for a moment,” she said to them, “I’ve
got
to get out of this.” She plucked at the front of her royal robe. “I’m starting to melt all over the floor. Brocade’s attractive, I suppose, but it’s
not
meant for summer.”

The rest of them sat down in comfortable chairs in the Arya’s sitting room. “Your approach to the Generals might have been a trifle abrupt, Sergeant Khalor,” Lord Dhakan observed, “but it definitely got your point across to them.”

“I’m glad you liked it, my Lord,” Khalor replied with a broad grin.

“You wouldn’t really have slaughtered them all, would
you?”

“Oh, probably not,” Khalor admitted, “but
they
didn’t know that, did they?”

“Growing up in a warrior culture must be very exciting.”

“It has its high points, my Lord. The difficult part is living long enough to grow up. A young fellow whose beard’s just starting to sprout tends to boast a lot, and sooner or later he’s going to have to back up his boasting. That usually involves fights, and it’s not a good idea to let little boys start fighting with all those swords and axes lying around.” Khalor squinted at Althalus. “I think I’d better talk with your wife, Althalus.”

“I didn’t know you were married, Lord Althalus,” Lord Dhakan said with some surprise.

“She’s a homebody.” Althalus shrugged it off.

“You have a house somewhere?”

“It’s her House, actually. It’s just a nice, cozy little place that we like to call home.”

Emmy the cat came padding across the floor and stopped in front of Sergeant Khalor’s chair. She looked up at him with her intense green eyes and meowed inquiringly.

“Don’t do that, Em,” Althalus scolded her.

She gave him a cold look, laying her ears back.

“That is the
strangest
cat,” Khalor said.

“We all owe her a great deal, Sergeant,” Dhakan said. “She actually saved young Eliar’s life a year or so ago.”

Andine returned wearing a filmy, sleeveless smock. She sat down and patted her lap. “Come here, Emmy,” she said fondly.

Emmy gave Althalus a superior sort of look that spoke volumes and then went immediately to Andine.

“Good kitty,” Andine said warmly. Then she looked at Sergeant Khalor. “What next?” she asked him.

“I need to take a look at the invaders, little lady,” he replied. “I can recognize most of the armies of the world on sight, and every army has its peculiarities. Getting to know the enemy’s very important when you’re fighting a war. I know Gelta quite well after that war in Wekti, but I’d like to have a look at her soldiers before I make too many more decisions.”

“Won’t that be sort of dangerous?” Dhakan asked. “You’re much too valuable a man to have running around in plain sight of the enemy.”

“I know of a way to observe without being seen, my Lord,” Khalor replied. “It’s a procedure that’s either very new or so old that the rest of mankind’s forgotten it. Althalus’ wife introduced us to it back in Wekti. That’s why I need to talk with her—fairly soon, I think.”

Where’s Gher?
Eliar asked silently when they returned to the tower.

He’s playing,
Leitha’s voice replied, speaking—it seemed—inside Althalus’ head.

“Do you have to do that?” Althalus asked them. “Can’t you keep these little discussions to yourselves?”

Eliar’s new at this, pet,
Dweia murmured.
If I remember correctly, it took
you
quite a while to learn not to shout.

What’s Gher up to now?
Eliar asked a bit more quietly.

He’s off in the east corridor,
Leitha replied,
with Sergeant Gebhel’s men.
Salkan’s teaching him how to use a sling.

“It was my suggestion, Althalus,” Bheid admitted. “Gher and Salkan are off by themselves. I thought that might be the smoothest way to bring Salkan here to this part of the House.”

“I’ll need to use your windows, ma’am,” Khalor told Dweia. “Arya Andine’s Generals are just a bit vague about the composition of the invading army, so I’d better have a look at them for myself.”

“Of course, Sergeant,” Dweia agreed.

Khalor glanced around quickly. “You haven’t left my Chief and Kreuter’s niece alone, have you?” he asked.

“They’re taking another little nap, Sergeant.”

Why don’t you go fetch Gher and Salkan, Eliar?
Althalus suggested silently.
If we’re going to break Salkan to harness, we might as well get
started.

Go with him, pet,
Dweia murmured.

Me? Why?

Let’s keep Gher from revealing
too
much right at first. We want to
ease
Salkan into his harness. Gher tends to rush things now and then.

Good point, Em,
Althalus agreed.

“That’s what it’s really all about, Gher,” Salkan was saying as Eliar and Althalus approached them in the east corridor of the House. “Any fool can whirl a sling around in the air over his head. Knowing exactly when to let go is the key. Your eye and hand have to work together.”

“It’s a lot more complicated than it looks, isn’t it?” Gher said.

“Ah, there you are, Gher,” Althalus said. “We’ve been looking all over for you.”

“Is something wrong?” Gher asked.

“No, not really. Emmy says that since you’re so close to her House, you might as well pay her a visit. You might want to come along, too, Salkan.”

“I didn’t know there were any houses up here in the mountains,” Salkan said.

“We sort of like to keep it that way, Salkan,” Eliar told the young redhead. “Emmy likes her privacy.”

Salkan looked around. “I don’t even see any roads or paths,” he said.

“We try not to leave tracks,” Althalus told him. “Emmy’s House is fairly splendid, and there
are
bandits up here in the mountains.” He turned and gestured at the corridor behind him. “The House is over on the far side of that little notch in this ridge. It’s almost suppertime anyway, and Emmy can cook much better than Sergeant Gebhel’s field cooks can. Let’s go have a decent meal, shall we?”

———

“There’s quite a bit more involved in fighting a war than swords and arrows and slings, Salkan,” Sergeant Khalor told the young Wekti as they were all finishing up a supper of near-banquet proportions. He tapped his forehead. “The really important part of a war goes on in here. You have to think faster than your enemy does.”

“I’m not really a soldier, General Khalor,” Salkan replied. “I lose my temper now and then, but mostly I just take care of my sheep.”

“I think you underestimate yourself, lad,” Chief Albron told him. “You mobilized the closest thing Wekti has to any army in a very short period of time, and your boys made a large contribution to our success.”

“Like it or not, Salkan,” Althalus told the young redhead, “you
do
command troops, so I think maybe you’d better stay here for a while and get a few pointers from Khalor.”

“If you say so, Master Althalus,” Salkan agreed. “After we finish with supper, maybe Eliar can take me back to General Gebhel’s camp so I can pick up my things and have a talk with my friends.”

“We’ll take care of it, Salkan,” Eliar said.

That was slick,
Dweia murmured to Althalus.

Not really, Em. Young Salkan’s eager to please people, so he’ll usually go
along—if you give him a fairly sound reason. Now that he’s here in the House,
everybody’s
going to have access to him—Bheid, Khalor, you, Gher, and
maybe even me. We’ll convert him to
something
before the summer’s out.

The skies over central Treborea were obscured by smoke from the burning crops the following morning, and the roads were choked with fleeing peasants. Sergeant Khalor’s face was bleak as he surveyed the devastation from the window. “I think I’m getting a little too old for this,” he muttered, half to himself.