Wizard's Funeral (23 page)

was responsible for that sporadic lunacy. While a sickness can be cured, when it came to maladies of the mind such doctoring was difficult. A curse, however, could be removed just like that, and the cure would be instant. It remained to find the one to take away the curse. You and I are the same now, he said, with her arm around her shoulders, staring up at the bright stars. We have both lost our memories. I know who I have been since I became a Guthrumite, but I know not what or who I was before that time. You have recently lost your memory and are with me in the camp of forgetfulness. I feel this has brought us closer together. I dont know. I want to feel close to you. I feel a certain security with you, but I am not wholly sure of you yet . . . As you say, you must take your time, my darling, and move gently into the right state of mind, and heart. Now, words like those can make me fall in love with you. Spagg was pleased to see them back. He had grown weary of his hefty lover: or she had wearied him. Spagg was ready to move on. Ive ad a terrible time, he told the other two. Flies, heat, dust. I sped youve been having a jolly one, trotting over the landscape, enjoyin yourselves. Well, you can see by the state of this filthy room that things is awful here. Gettin your laundry done in this place is like trying to find gold dust in a beggars pocket. And the foods been disgustin lately. I had no idea, murmured Golgath, that we were leaving you in such a hellhole. The next day Soldier, Layana, Spagg and Golgath set out towards Carthaga. On their arrival they found the population in a mood of strong determination. Having gone through the grief of losing their army to the Hannacks and beast-people, they were ready to fight again. Men and women had been in training since Soldier left. It was a young army. There was no need to recruit new warriors, because almost every other male or female had been raised to the idea that they were warriors. It was the noblest profession in Carthaga, coming just before artists. Merchants and artisans came well behind. In the last row of respected professions stood physicians, magicians and entertainers. However, Jakanda the old warlord was dead, killed in the battle for the gates of Zamerkand. A new leader was needed. The senators could not make up their minds who to appoint. Some were too young, some too old, many too inexperienced. They knew of Soldier and his exploits, as well as his deeds as an officer in the red pavilions. When they heard that Soldier was back in Carthaga, he was sent for. He stood before the senate and was asked to give an account of his experience as a fighter. I can only tell you half the tale, he informed them, for the first half has been lost to my memory. I feel certain that I was a warrior then. I have been a warrior all my life. They told him that was what they wanted to hear and asked him if he would lead an expedition back to Guthrum. We must regain our self-respect, said the senators, as a military nation. It is our livelihood. How can we expect other countries who employ our mercenaries to think highly of our fighting skills, while this defeat hangs heavy over our heads? We must destroy the army which besieges Zamerkand. I accept, replied Soldier. But why me? I will tell you honestly, replied the senior senator. If you fail, it will be because you are an outlander. It will not be the Carthagan army at fault. You alone will bear the blame. And if I succeed? It will be because of the warriors you lead into battle -the red pavilions - it will be because they are the best soldiers on this earth and because any leader, even a outlander, can win with such magnificent troops at his back. So, the failure will be mine, the glory will be yours. Exactly. They waited, sure in the knowledge that he would now refuse the commission. I accept, he said, quietly, after a thoughtful pause. We must destroy Ommullummos army and instate his son. Surprised, the senators nodded gravely. The senior senator handed him the marshals baton. Soldier now commanded the red pavilions. When he told Golgath, his friend was ecstatic. Now we can go back and destroy the Hannacks! Or be destroyed, replied the more sober Soldier, who had had time to reflect. Dont forget, they broke us once with OmmullummO behind them. Winning is all about whats in the head, as well as the heart. If they believe theyre invincible, they very well might be. Layana offered no predictions on the outcome. In fact, she said very little. Her one comment on the matter was a demand. I should like to purchase some armour. What? said Soldier. I wish to fight too, alongside you three ... Dont include me, Yer Majesty, cried Spagg. I aint joinin these two madcaps. Layana said, Well, I do wish to join. I would rather you didnt, said Soldier. You have no experience of war. How do you know? Well, I only know ... Just as you feel you have the warrior inside you, so I feel I could be useful on the battlefield. You might be killed. So might you. Any argument Soldier put up was swept aside. In the end he took her to an armourer, who fitted her out with Carthagan armour. As a woman, of course, she would not be alone in the Carthagan army. There were many in the ranks and amongst its officers. Soldier told her she was on his staff and would not be given a rank, or a pavilion to lead. You must accept the position of common warrior, just as I did when I first joined, and as all Carthagans do. Youll be with me at all times, so that we might look out for one another. You wont shield me from the fighting? Therell be enough of that to go round twice, answered Soldier, grimly, you can be sure of that. If we survive itll be more because of good fortune than anything else. The Hannacks and beast-people are well dug in. They wont be an easy enemy to defeat. Anything else? Yes, Ive sent a message to Bhantan, asking the twins to attack the rear of the enemy army. Ive promised them the head of Humbold as a gift, if we should win. Its the least you can do. With that, Soldier went down to the harbour, to supervise the loading of the warships which would carry his army across the Cerulean Sea and to the shores of Guthrum once again. Just before the fleet was ready, some days later, the raven arrived. Look at you, with your marshals baton. Dont get above yourself. Gad, youre a hard human to find these days. Where did you try? Ive been over just about every yard of Uan Muhaggiag, ending up in Sisadas, before I came on to here. What news? The Hannacks and beast-people are expecting to be attacked. Theyve started to flock back to the siege from the hills. Theres nothing like the scent of battle to get them out of their holes. Do they know Im leading the expeditionary force? The raven shook its black-feathered head. No. Even I didnt know. I heard it in Sisadas. What news from there? The Soldan of Ophiria defeated Prince Paladan. The princes head stands on a stake by the great oasis. Nice-looking lad, eh? What of Moona Swan-neck? Died of a broken heart. Soldier was genuinely shocked. He had expected her to weep a little over Prince Paladan. But . . . She died? Fell into a melancholy fever and wasted away in a week. People dont die of lack of food in a week. Hermits fast for months before they die. Something inside her - perhaps her own heart? - was gnawing on her spirit. It was her spirit which gave out, not her body. Anyway, she died. Her eyes were sunken and dim. Her body decayed from pining. I was told you could see the candle flame through her hand she was so thin. Then one morning her life simply faded away. The soldan is grief-stricken. He has her laid out in a crystal casket from which the air has been extracted so that she does not decay further. This casket is itself in a glass-walled tomb, by which he sits day and night. He himself is now lean and hungry-looking as a winter fox. There is a park being constructed quietly, around the pair, full of exotic trees, shrubs and flowers. He sends to all the four corners of the earth for apes, peacocks and leopards to populate the park. Soldier shook his head. I never would have guessed. There, you dont know everything, do you?

Chapter Twenty-two

The fleet of warships was ready to sail when,the gift arrived for Soldier from an unknown source. A plant? he said to Layana. It was a potted bloom, a particularly exotic and marvellous flower, now in bud, but almost ready to open. One could see that once the petals unfurled, there would be a scarlet bloom unmatched by any other. Layana, resplendent in her new lightweight armour, which she had requested in black, remarked, The pot itself looks a treasure. It was gold and silver, inlaid with ebony and ivory. Look, theres an inscription. It read: A Gift from the Gods, to Honour the Valour of Soldier, a Warrior whose Goodness is a Beacon to Us All. Goodness? I wouldnt have thought I was particularly good, remarked Soldier. I fight for my side, yes, but my motives are often quite selfish. Well, someone thinks youre exemplary, replied Layana, or they would not have sent this gift. I dont recognise the flower. Perhaps it really is from the fields of the gods? Soldier was secretly very pleased with the gift, or at least the sentiments behind it. Actually he was not one who appreciated flowers. He knew that in this world a rose with dew on it was regarded as as exciting and marvellous as the running leopard was to Soldier. While he would study the muscles and movement of the leopard with great awe, Guthrumites, Uan Muhuggiags and Garthagans would stare at a host of daffodils dancing in the breeze and experience the same sense of wonder. But a love of foliage was not in Soldiers nature, so without telling Layana, he sent the bloom in its precious pot to the Soldan of Ophiria, asking him to put it with all the other exotic plants around Moonas tomb. The soldan was now going quite mad with grief. He pulled out his hair in clumps. He rent his clothes each time they were changed by his faithful servants. Finally he tore out his tongue with his own hands and would have plucked out his own eyes had he not been restrained. When the flower arrived from Soldier, the soldan placed it at the head of the crystal casket. He was there when the bud opened - a huge, scarlet trumpet, its petals as large as a mans hands - and died of its poisonous perfume moments later. The plant was of a rare, deadly variety found only in deep jungles accessible to a few intrepid explorers. In its native habitat its noxious fumes killed any animal which ventured near it and now it had killed the soldan. His people found him draped over his faded wifes casket. What incensed them more was the fact that thieves had found him first and stolen his golden arm. The fleet sailed. Halfway across the Cerulean Sea they were beset by storms. They battled through these, losing seven ships out of three hundred. When they came through the darkness, the white-flecked squalls and tearing winds, on the other side, there were still no stars. It was difficult to navigate without stars, but there were feelers-of-the-sea amongst the sailors, who could tell the position approximately by dipping their hands in the water and feeling the temperature. Eventually the fleet made a landfall on the mainland coast just southwest of the island of Stell. It was a wild, uninhabited stretch of sand, the coastline cluttered with giant driftwood, choked with drying weed and rotting shellfish. They beached the boats and covered them as best they could with the white driftwood and weed. Soldier then took his army on a forced march eastwards. On the march the raven arrived with news that Guido and Sando were camped just outside the Kermer Pass, and were ready to march southwards towards Zamerkand. Soldier sent word back of the approximate time it would take him and his troops to reach Zamerkand, so that the two armies could make a concerted attack, one from the east, one from the north. Soldiers army arrived a mile distant from Zamerkand just as the shadows were growing to their longest. Trenches were dug, thorn fences were raised, guards were posted. Once all was secure he took time to ride ahead and survey the killing ground. As he approached the spires, the turrets, the towers and domes of Zamerkand, he felt a kind of fulfilment. He stood in the black bars of the tree shadows at the forest edge and gazed upon the old city walls. He was returning to his adopted home as marshal, head of the red pavilions which were now being raised behind him, within the secure encampment. He had arrived as a stranger, not so many years ago, in a strange world. Having a feeling for his own history, he joined an army now he was leading it, supreme commander. Thats my home, murmured Layana. She came up beside. Thats where I come from. He turned in the saddle. You recognise it? I know it. She took his hand. This is one of the first delights of falling in love. Touching the soft fingers and palm of ones beloved. There are one or two before it, many more wonderful mysteries to unfold after it, but holding hands for the first time is a magical moment, when two palms touch and two sets of fingers entwine. Soldier was overcome. It had been so long since he had experienced such tenderness that he almost broke down. Now they were together again. The day rushed to a close, leaving the pair still touching fingers, while the impatient horses fretted and stroked the ground with their hooves, wondering what was going on. That night the Hannacks and the beast-people celebrated the coming battle with hellish screams and the thunder of drums. Their fires were scattered all over the landscape around Zamerkand, on hill, in gulley. It seemed to Soldier and his troops that the foe had no fear, but all enemy armies appear thus to the opposition. Soldiers army was ready before the break of dawn. With the first rays of the sun Garthagan archers loosed volleys of arrows which fell like hail upon the enemy camps. Every tenth arrow was a fire-arrow. Even before the day had much begun the tents and baggage of the enemy army were blazing. Hannacks and beast-people came pouring out of these areas of flame, like fleas abandoning a swimming bears coat. Soldiers army was waiting for them, foot-warriors in three ranks forming a rigid semicircle around the north of the city. His cavalry protected the flanks from stray groups of the enemy. From the north-west came the smaller army led by Guido and Sando. The twins, still only fifteen years of age, were dressed in armour, one in white and one in rose. They rode black horses. They directed their troops from the same ridge on which Soldier, when working for Spagg, had found Jankin-the-giants body hanging from a gallows. It was on this ridge that Soldier had chopped off Jankins hands and put them in a sack, before being attacked by a rogue Hannack. His first. Now there were five thousand Hannacks, ascending the ridge from which the two princes commanded their small Bhantan army. No man runs, no man hides, no man gives quarter, cried Sando. He was the peace-prince, supposed to remain at home while his brother went to war. Yet he could not. The excitement of fighting drew him to his brothers side. Guido drew his sword. For the ashes of HoulluoH and the birthright of Ixonnoxl! he cried. One of his generals picked up the cry. For Sando and Guido! For the temples of your gods! For honour! Then the came the clash, as the first Hannacks smashed into the Bhantans, and the fighting was joined. At the same time, Soldiers first line stood firm as the main brunt of the Hannacks and beast-people hit the Carthagan front. There was a shudder down the ranks of longspear-warriors. The line weaved, rippled, as it met the shock of thousands of screaming, half-naked warriors, the spears penetrating man and beast. The noise of hammers, swords and sickles striking metal shields was deafening. Once that first impact had been absorbed by the front rank, those Carthagans still alive and on two feet fell on their faces, and the second rank strode determinedly forward. Forward and forward, not hesitating to step on the backs of their prone comrades. They began to drive the enemy back. They were glint-eyed and steely-armed. As if they were one large machine, they drove resolutely, pressing the wild hordes backwards. The Hannacks and beast-people found themselves on their back feet, retreating, ever retreating as the Carthagans gained ground. When the second line of the Carthagans was tired and depleted, they too gave way, this time to the third rank of warriors, fresh and ready behind them. In the meantime the first rank had reformed and marched immediately behind the third rank. Gradually the enemy was forced back and back, until they were pushed up against the walls of Zamerkand. There was nowhere to go from that point on. Soldier had rolled them up against the stonework, just as he had done another enemy in another place and time - up against a fortification they called Hadrians Wall - though the memory of that old battle was locked in some dim recess of his mind. Guthrumites on the battlements, and in the towers above, began to rain rocks and boiling oil down on their besiegers. Having been penned up in a diseased city now for a long time, they were more than eager to-assist in the slaughter of those who had kept them there. The Hannacks and beast-people fought desperately. Some of them screamed, some of them barked, some of them howled, and some hissed as they died. They gave good account of themselves, there being few cowards amongst them, and the released souls of Carthagans could be heard thanking them. Soldier and Layana fought side by side, each watching out for the other, neither knowing whether they would see the end of the day. In the middle of the battle the skies went dark as a nebulous but misty form swept like a storm cloud over the land. This event struck fear into the hearts of the Carthagan army, since they knew that OmmullummO had sent his shadow to encourage his own army. Indeed, on seeing this sign the Hannacks and beast-people fought with more fierceness and determination. The battle was almost turned, until Layana, at great personal risk, rode up and down the lines of Carthagan warriors, calling for courage. Remember who you are! she cried. Remember your ancestors and your comrades, crying to you from their graves to be avenged. Destroy this evil, now! It was more the sight of this brave woman warrior, flying up and down the lines on her palfrey, than any rhetoric or oratory that spurred the Carthagan warriors to a greater strength. Indeed, the words were often lost in the wind, but her fury and resolve were obvious to all. They reached down into themselves for more reserves of energy, redoubled their efforts, met the new onslaught with an unbroken wall of shields, swords, warhammers. After another hours fighting the shadow left the skies, flew back towards the mountains, abandoning the invaders to their inevitable fate. By noon the bodies were thick at the base of the citys curtain wall. Beast-people and Hannacks were beginning to flee in greater numbers, heading for Falyum and Da-tichett. There would be no official surrender. Hannacks had no idea how to do such a thing - they had no word for it and it never entered their education as a warrior race - and beast-people would rather swallow boiling tar than lay down their weapons. The fighting would go on until all those of the foe who were able had run away, and those who were wounded were deprived of their weapons. So it was only the coming of darkness that called an end to the battle. Weve won, said Layana. She removed her helmet in the light of the watchfires from the walls above. It over. For now, agreed Soldier, catching the gleam of the gore splattered on the stones of the city. Another terrible slaughter. She turned her attention to him now. You have redeemed yourself, my husband. He had indeed. He said nothing, but even with the dead lying all around him, the sickening smell of blood in his nostrils, he could not help but feel elated. He had led an army into battle against a foe which had recently defeated that army. In truth, his was the inferior force, both in physical strength and, having been beaten once, also in spirit. Yet he had raised that spirit with quiet words and strong character. He had told his warriors, men and women, that this was their day. Then he had led them, from the front, straight at the ranks of their oldest enemies. It had been a simple strategy - almost no plan at all - of containing the foe and driving him back against an impassable barrier, and there cutting him down. It had worked because his enemy were wild creatures, who loved to fight in the open, but who hated confined spaces. In such places they fought with a desperation which verged on hysteria, their first priority being to break out, rather than win a battle. It is the warrior with the cool head who wins the day, not the wild-eyed, slashing berserker. Soldiers warriors had kept cool heads. They had tightened the snare, then helped the enemy to choke himself. It was not an admirable way to win, but triumph usually comes to the clever, not to the vainglorious. Soldier was satisfied with the outcome. His troops were ecstatic. They could go back to Carthaga in the wake of wonderful news. Even now there would be messengers running for the boats, crossing the Cerulean Sea, hoping to be the first to run through the streets of Carthaga with the news. Victory! Revenge! Victory! again. Joyous people would flood from their houses. The mood would be festive. Tables would be dragged out into the squares and parks. Wine would follow. Oxen would be roasted. Drums would beat, trumpets would blare. The whole of the continent of Gwandoland would know that the Carthagans were celebrating, and such spontaneous and wild celebrations meant only one thing. A victorious battle. Soldier was satisfied. You are a hero! cried Velion, throwing blood-stained arms around him. You triumph! cried Golgath, locking hand with fist. There were cheers from his tired warriors. Soldier was satisfied. He made his way to the camp of Guide and Sando, to thank his allies. They too had played their part.