Old Pahvlos threw back his balding head and laughed, then reached and grasped Bralos' forearm, squeezing it warmly, cordially. "Young man, you will go very far in this or in any other army. We two will discuss this matter and that of your career with Council's army at some other time and place, but for now"-he raised his voice and, shoving back his chair, stood up-"my good CaptainVahrohnos, I mustbid you and this company a fond good night, for old bones require more frequent rest than do younger bones."

Bralos had done very well by his squadron, so that soon he had no slightest trouble filling the ranks, and indeed, was obliged to maintain a waiting list for would-be troopers and first-rate sergeants. At the sug-gestions of Senior CaptainThoheeks Portos and Sub-strahteegosTomos Gonsalos, he raised both the asking-price and the other requirements for ensigns, sub-lieutenants, troop-lieutenants, senior lieutenant and sub-captain, after first buying back the ranks of those few men who did not or could not work with or under him, and even so, hardly the day pa.s.sed but that he found himself approached by top-notch officers or one time officers or wellborn young men, all clearly eager to lay their credentials and money before him.

Of course, lieutenants and captains of units losing personnel to the Wolf Squadron grumbled and groused that he was pampering his unit, turning them into overfed, underworked, elegantly dressed, indulged show troops, unfit for anything save parades; but even as these few envious officers spoke, they knew well the falsity of their words of accusation, for Wolf Squadron was performing yeoman service in the seemingly end-less round of campaigns into which GrandStrahteegos Thoheeks Pahvlos the Warlike had plunged the army. Elegant as was the appearance of the officers and other ranks of Wolf Squadron when they were seen on occasions of formality, in the field they all fought with the ferocity of their totem beast, a lean winter wolf.

Provided with the quant.i.ties of golden Zenos which kept coming, through Sub-strahteegos Thoheeks Tomos Gonsalos, from the north, Bralos found himself able to see to it that all ranks of his command possessed the necessities in quality as well as in quant.i.ty, plus not a few luxuries to compensate them for hard, faithful service.

He had taken over his newly purchased squadron at the end of a cold, wet autumn, and after a detailed inspection of the weapons and equipment of the four hundred-odd officers and men, he had set up in his own mind a list of priorities, cleared them with Senior CaptainThoheeks Portos, gone to Sub- strahteegos ThoheeksTomos Gonsalos for a weight of gold, then betaken himself to the collection of buildings at the base of the hills on which sat the fast-growing city of Mehseepolis and sought out certain suppliers of mili-tary paraphernalia.

He had had to settle initially for plain, but thick and warm, blanket-cloaks for the most of his squadron, but with the promise in writing that immediately the requisite numbers of dense wolf-pelts were become available, they would be added to trim the hoods without additional charge; however, he had seen all of the cloaks bleached out, then dyed a uniform soft grey, with the same color being applied to the twenty-three-score horse-blankets he bought at the same time from the same family of dealers. This same family were able to also lead him to both a leatherworker and a specialty smith who contracted to undertake a joint project to produce knee-high boots with wrought-iron splints and elbow-high gauntlets sewn with iron or steel rings for all the squadron.

The smith-a heavyset man with wavy brown hair and curly beard, an exceptionally hairy body and the largest, thickest moustache that Bralos could ever re-call having seen set under a big and raptorial nose- had served his guests cups of a powerful cider and questioned them at length in relatively good Ehleenokos spoken with an unusual accent. Finally, shoving aside the sheaf of sketches he had made and the notes he had taken in a script that was not Ehleen or Merikan, either, though bearing more resemblance to the former than to the latter, he took a swallow of the cider, then spoke.

"My lord CaptainVahrohnos, what if your trooper be sword-gashed between elbow and shoulder, what then?" Bralos sighed. "Then, Master Haigh, with luck, he'll be crippled, only. I can see where you're going, but be you apprised that it is traditional that lancers' armor be only helmet and light breastplate. And those who command this army insist upon almost-slavish adher-ence to tradition, alas."

The smith frowned and pursed his lips for a mo-ment, then flitted the trace of a smile. "What would my n.o.ble lord think of a grade of fine, strong, but very light double mail that might be easily sewn into an arming shirt or a gambeson to protect troopers' upper arms and armpits, eh? Since it would not be visible, thus would this mad tradition be served."

Bralos skeptically cast a glance into the rather small shop-only the smith, a brother and three lads- replied, "Man, it sounds good, but it would take your shop years to produce enough of the stuff for my command. We're talking here of two per man and between four and five hundred men."

The smith's lip-corners twitched. "Oh, no, my lord, I do not make this fine mail; it is produced by some .

. . relatives, in the north."

Bralos barked a short, humorless laugh. "Master Haigh, not even I can afford Pitzburk prices plus wagoning costs to protect my men, much as I would so like to do."

The smith shouted something through the doorway that led into the shop and forge, something in a harsh-sounding language, and in a moment, one of the lads came in with a bundle wrapped in oiled suede, placing it at a word from the smith atop the table, then departing to shortly return wheeling a carved wooden dummy of a man's torso and a brace of heavy-bladed shortswords in wood-and-leather scabbards.

Still seated, the master smith unwrapped the oiled suede to show an underwrapping of coa.r.s.e, unbleached woolen fabric as thick as blanketing and also oil-impregnated. Under the wool was the mail.

Bralos thought that the gleaming metal mesh might have been wrought of fine silver, so l.u.s.trous was it; leaning close, he could see that each and every small ring was riveted-a quality product and no mistaking it, each ring joined to other rings in eight places and all finely finished and polished.

Lifting one of the three hauberks, for such this lot were, the smith's big, scarred hands rolled and com-pressed it into a ball that looked impossibly small, then proffered it to his princ.i.p.al guest.

Bralos found it extremely light, yet when he un-rolled it and laid part of it out on the tabletop, he could not get half a finger-width of the point of his boot-dagger through it, shove as he did.

Standing, the smith took the hauberk from him and draped it over the scarred, dented wooden dummy.

When it was draped to his critical satisfaction, the big man turned back to the table, selected one of the brace of shortswords and drew it from out its scab-bard, then he reversed and offered the weapon for Bralos' inspection.

Handling it carefully, for the winking edges showed it to be honed to a very keen degree of sharpness all along both edges of the roughly two feet of broad blade, Bralos knew immediately that he had never seen or handled its exact like before. In some ways, it bore a similarity to the standard Ehleen army infantry shortsword, but it was wider, thicker and differently balanced from that weapon. The central rib would no doubt impart decided strength to it, while the four fullers down most of the length on both flats reduced significantly the overall weight. With the sword once more in his hand, the master smith shoved the dummy a little farther from the table and his guests, took a stance and, whirling the weapon up above and behind his head, shouted some phrase in the guttural foreign tongue and delivered several cuts and looping slashes at the mail-draped wooden form. No one could doubt that he was striking with all his not inconsiderable strength, for twice a shower of sparklets flew upward from the buffets, the fabric of the hardwood dummy creaked and groaned protestingly and, at the last blow, one of the axles of the dummy-cart bent and a freed wooden wheel went skittering across the floor.

There having been no arms to help hold it in place on the dummy, the mail had of course been moved out of its original drape, but aside from this; Bralos was able to detect no slightest breaking or bending or even scarring of the rings anywhere on the fine steel shirt, for all that the edges of the sword showed the effects of hard contacts with steel. Even so, he rearranged the drape of the hauberk and went at it for a few strokes with the other sword. At last, he used his left hand to hold the dummy still and drew back his arm, clearly intending to thrust at the chest.

"No," said the master smith, adding, "And it please my lord, no; that sword will break the mail and pene-trate, though one of your own swords probably would not do so. That sword was designed to pierce mail and scale armor at the hard thrust, you see."

Bralos stepped back from the abused dummy and nodded, smiling. "I thought so when I saw that almost-edgeless, diamond-shaped point and that ribbed blade. It's a good design for a sword, though a bit short for my own tastes. You'd play h.e.l.l trying to use so short a blade on horseback."

"My peo . . . that is, the people who developed that sword live in mountains and mountainous foothills, my lord, and own precious few riding horses. They bestride mountain ponies to the site of battle, then fight on foot."

Bralos nodded again. "Which is probably why and how this fine, very strong, but exceedingly light mail came to be, eh? Who are your people, Master Haigh?"

The smith shrugged. "But another race of what my lord's folk call mountain barbarians, though our lands are in no way near to these ConsolidatedThoheek-seeahnee. Would other tribes leave us to bide in peace, we would do naught save farm our valleys and graze our flocks on the heights, but such has never for long come to pa.s.s, and so have we been compelled to learn to practice the ways of war."

Bralos shook his head. "Using those swords and this fantastic mail as indicators, I would say that your people have a.s.sured themselves of the wherewithal to practice war quite well. If you can fit it to me, I'd like to buy one of those hauberks from you, one that will hang to about mid-thigh.

"So far as the half-sleeves for my men are con-cerned, how long would it take your tribe to produce five hundred pairs and get them here to Mehseepolis? Oh, and what will the pairs cost?"

Once they had worked out a price that was mutually agreeable, the smith said, "My lord, much of the iron that my people use is smelted locally from ores or rendered from rusted ancient-times artifacts. If my lord desires quicker delivery and would be willing to advance a bit more gold to buy pig iron . . .?"

Senior CaptainThoheeks Portos summoned Bralos to the heavy horse camp on a sunny but bone-chillingly cold January day, snow lying deeply on the ground. Within his plastered, wooden-walled office, a brace of braziers warmed the room to such degree that, with a cupful of brandy, a man could bealmost comfortable.

"We . . . you have a problem, Bralos," said the cavalry commander, with his usual bluntness.

Bralos could think of no problems of any conse-quence within the squadron, so he raised his eyebrows quizzically and awaited elucidation in silence.

"It has gotten back . . . rather, been borne back by certain envious officers," said Portos, "that you are coddling your squadron-overindulging them with rough, warm clothing, decent food and wine or beer, protective boots and gauntlets and ash lance-shafts, where the other squadron must make do with issue oaken shafts. Therefore, the GrandStrahteegos has decided that if you can afford to so pamper the com-mon troopers of your squadron, you can equally well afford to increase your squadron strength to four troops.

"Look you, Bralos, I did try ... for all the good that it did me or you." Portos' dark face was a very study in frustration and anger. "I pointed out that it were eminently unfair to ask you to raise and arm and outfit another troop while allowing CaptainOpokomees Ehrrikos to maintain only the three. But then that slimy Ehrrikos; waving a hand that bore gold and gems on its every finger, protested his near-penury, cited your flaunted affluence . . . and that was that, the old man signed the order.

"So, now, my boy, you must recruit, and recruit most speedily, at the least ninety troopers, ten ser-geants, three cooks, probably one or two more farri-ers, a senior sergeant, another horse-leech and at least two moreeeahtrohsee. Mounts, weapons and armor and horse-furnishings will, of course, be provided by the army. There is the fact, for what compensation that it will be, that you now will have ranks to put on the market-one troop-lieutenancy, two of sub-lieutenant and four of ensign. How long do you think it will take you? I'll get you all the time I can."

By the end of that week, Bralos had over a hundred troopers, a senior sergeant and twelve section-sergeants, all of the needed specialist troops, a troop-lieutenant, a sub-lieutenant and three of the ensigns-all five of the officers, all but two of the sergeants and a goodly portion of the troopers come out of the other squad-ron of lancers, the Panther Squadron, commanded by none other than Captain Opokomees Ehrrikos of Thakhahrispolis.

Portos rode up to the headquarters building of Wolf Squadron rocking in his saddle with laughter, tossed his reins to the waiting trooper and slid to the ground, still laughing. Seated in Bralos' snug office, with a goblet of brandied wine in his big hands, the senior captain controlled himself long enough to give his host the tale.

Foaming with rage, CaptainOpokomees Ehrrikos had stormed into the heavy horse headquarters and demanded immediate words with the overall commander of cavalry. Upon admission to Portos' office, he had brusquely refused the offer of a tipple and had begun to rant and rave of the loss of almost a full troop of his best troopers and sergeants-including two sergeants from out of his own headquarters detachment and, to add insult to injury, his personal batman-no less than three sub-lieutenants, two ensigns and the senior lieu-tenant who had been in charge of his headquarters for years.

"Desertion?" queried Portos blandly, suspecting un-told the true answer, even as he spoke. "We'll appre-hend these miscreants in no time, never you fear,Opokomees, the scouts will tell us which way they went, and then I'll send some of Captain Chief Pawl's Horseclanners to ..."

"No, no, no, no no!" the visiting officer half-shrieked, shaking both gloved fists and stamping one booted foot upon the floor in his agitation. "The pigs didn't desert, my lordThoheeks, not legally; no, Petros andthe rest of those drooling idiots I called my officers came to me and demanded back the prices of their ranks . . . and, of course, I had to give them the money. The others, those scoundrelly sergeants and the idiot troopers and my cretin of a servant, they all just took everything that did not belong to me and went over in a body to join that G.o.ddam Wolf Squad-ron. They're hunkering there, now."

"Well, lordOpokomees," inquired Portos, "what do you want me to do about it all, pray tell? If the troops did not desert, then they still are members of my command who simply have chosen to serve me and the army in a different squadron. Admittedly, the other ranks should, strictly speaking, have gone through channels to effect a transfer to another unit of horse, but now that it is done, I can see no reason to censure them."

"I don't want them censured!" Captain Ehrrikos half-shouted. "I want the lowborn sc.u.m back! I'll see the bare white spines of every one of those d.a.m.ned sergeants . . . and that backbiting batman, too!"

"It is all as I have heretofore stated, CaptainOpokomees" said Portos with chilly formality. "This . . .

ahhh . . . rearrangement of officers and troops will not discommode me or my brigade of horse, and so I can think of nothing that would impel me to involve myself in it. Have you considered riding over and pleading with CaptainVahrohnos Bralos to return them to Panther Squadron?"

Ehrrikos turned livid and grated from between tightly clenched teeth. "I did ... earlier today. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d of a shoat and a goat, helaughed at me, laughed atme, to my very face. He said that did I put less gold on myself and more upon the backs of and in the bellies of my troopers, I might still have more of them within the precincts of my own camp and fewer of them within his. Then the misbegotten son of a diseased ape informed me that as he was very busy with interview-ing newly come personnel, he would have to cut our visit short. Thegall of the upstart, only a d.a.m.nedvahrohnos, and not even that for long!"

Portos tried hard to keep the smile from off his face, the laughter out of his voice. "Well, then, Captain, have you considered seeking an audience with the GrandStrahteegos? You seemed to have his ear and his favor earlier this week, as I recall. Perhaps he would see that you got at least your other ranks back.

Neither he nor I could tell your n.o.ble officers what to do, not after you allowed them to sell back their ranks in Panther Squadron."

The officer's lividity deepened, darkened, and he ground his teeth. "LordThoheeks, it was our Grand Strahteegos Thoheeks Pahvlos who sent me here, to you as cavalry brigade commander to resolve this stink-ing mess. He said that he would leave resolution of the current matter up to you, trusting as he does your judgment, and he . . ." Ehrrikos paused and ground his teeth once more.

"Yes?" prompted Portos. "The GrandStrahteegos had other words, Captain?"

"He ... he said ... it was of a rather personal nature, my lord," said Ehrrikos, a little lamely.

"Even so, I will hear it, Captain. Now," Portos demanded, ordered.

Even in his anger, Ehrrikos could not mistake the authority in the voice of the senior captain, and he could not but obey. "He said, my lord, that if I was desirous of keeping my rank and the command of Panther Squadron, the two troops I had remaining and the third that I must immediately begin to recruit, I had best sell my finger-rings, my arm-rings and my golden chain and use the money from them to outfit my troops for winter campaigning and begin to feed them more and better rations. He ... he promised that was Pan-ther Squadron not the equal at least of Wolf Squadron by spring, that . . . that the entire army would be wit-ness to my impalement." Lolling in the chair in Bralos' office, the big, brawny Portos could no longer restrain himself, gusting once more into laughter that continued until tears were cours-ing down his scarred cheeks into his beard and he must perforce hold with both hands his aching sides.

"And would he?" asked Bralos. "CaptainThoheeks, could the GrandStrahteegos have anopokomees pub-licly impaled for such cause?"

Sobering a bit, the brigade commander replied, "Whether he would or not is really anyone's guess; old Pahvlos is not easy to fathom. But if he felt he had cause, sufficient cause, he most a.s.suredly could. His successes-past and present-have made him virtually a law unto himself, insofar as Council is concerned.

"But in this caseof Opokomees Ehrrikos' callous mistreatment of his squadron, I doubt that Pahvlos would go that far. Most likely, if Ehrrikos sees fit to ignore Pahvlos' 'advice,' he will just have him well striped, stripped of his military rank and enough of his personal treasures to cover refurbishing the squadron and meeting the prices of rank of the remaining offi-cers, then send him home in disgrace. No doubt, Ehrrikos' overlord will be sufficiently displeased to punish him, too. But impalement, no, I doubt it, Bralos, not crucifixion or maiming, even."

"My lord," Bralos said, "I would ask a question of you."

Smiling, Portos nodded. "Ask away, then, my good Bralos."

"The provisions I have made for the men of my squadron-decent clothing, equipment and food-should these things not be provided to all men of the armyby the army, rather than leaving such necessities' provision up to individual commanders who, in most cases, either cannot or will not? Sub- strahteegos ThoheeksTomos Gonsalos has told me that in both the Royal Army of Karaleenos and in the Army of the Confederation, things are just so-all soldiers' needs being issued by the army."

Portos took his barely touched goblet from off the desktop and took a sip, then sighed. "The biggest and, to Pahvlos and many another n.o.ble officer, most im-portant reason is that the present method, with all its undeniable faults, is the traditional method in armies of the SouthernEhleenohee. The most pressing reason that this was not adopted by Grahvos and the rest when Tomos first advised its adoption, years back, before Pahvlos came, was and is the simple fact that the Council could not and cannot afford it ...

yet.

"h.e.l.l, Bralos, I dislike it as much as any other officer or man. I would much rather be putting such funds as I come by into my new duchy, rather than using them to clothe and equip and feed my troops, but they are completely dependent on me and I realize that fact, recognizing my responsibility to them and to the army.

"But until, if, when, Council sees fit to step into the management of the army, has the necessary income and effects a reorganization of sorts, you and I are just stuck with making the best that we can of an old, bad, but long-established situation."

"All right, then, if the squadron is to be my respon-sibility, I want it to be my sole responsibility, my lord, all of it. I want leave to buy the present horses from Council, the furnishings for them and my men's weap-ons," said Bralos.

"Sweet Christ on Your Cross!" exclaimed Portos. "Man, do you have any conception of the kind of money you're speaking of laying out here? Just how richare you, anyway?" Bralos nodded. "Yes, I know the figure almost to the coppers, my lord, Sub-strahteegosTomos and I added it all up with the help of a quartermaster officer and a remount officer, both sworn to secrecy. It will put somewhat of a dent in my present finances, but I still can afford it."

"Why do you want to do such a thing?" demanded Portos, incredulity in his voice, a stunned look on his face. "It ... the thing just makes no sense to me."

"Should I leave the army, for whatever reason," answered Bralos, "I want to go with the knowledge that the men who served me so well for so long and under such trying conditions will each own at least the value of a good troop-horse and their weapons and armor. Another thing is this: many of my men are-rather were-farmers, herders and suchlike. My barony-h.e.l.l, the entire duchy, for that matter-is underpopulated, now. Whenever things wind down and the army need not be so large, I want to take all of my squadron who wish to go with me back to my lands, to till and sow and herd upon them. For those men not so inclined, both my overlord and I will need small armed bands of retainers."

Portos stared hard into Bralos' eyes, then dropped his gaze. "A bit earlier, I was speaking to Ehrrikos on the responsibilities of rank. Bralos, you shame me, you shame all of us officers, in your concern for the present welfare and even the future welfare of your troopers. How I wish all of my cavalry officers were alike to you.

"Your request will, naturally, have to go to the highest authority, to the GrandStrahteegos himself. But I will personally bear it to him and pray that he approve it; if he does not, then I'll put it to Council. That's the best I can do."

"My lord is more than generous, may G.o.d bless him," Bralos said with sincere feeling.

"Yes, I recall that ruckus in Council," saidThoheeks Sitheeros, while using his powerful hands to crack nuts. "A duel resulted from some of the name-calling engendered in that day's civilized debate. Grahvos finally summoned Tomos up to the palace and clo-seted with him for a while, then rammed the measure through by way of a half-Council vote. That can be done, you know; most business can be decided by the votes of seventeen councillors only, not the full thirty-three.

"So, then, that was how you got on the bad side of our late GrandStrahteegos, hey?"

"I'm now certain that that was the beginning of the GrandStrahteegos' antipathy toward me, my lord. He insisted after that that my squadron be listed as merce-nary cavalry; I suppose that he thought that such a designation would limit my ability to recruit replace-ments and sell officer ranks, but of course it did not,"

replied Bralos.

The spring thaw saw the beginning of nearly two years of almost constant campaigning for the army of Council, beginning with a long march into the far-northwestern corner of the Consolidated Thoheek-seeahnee and a protracted war against an alliance of a number of tribes of mountain barbarians. The army stayed in those mountain for more than six months, almost until snowtime, seldom engaging in large open battles, but one hit-and-miss ambuscade or running fight or a.s.sault upon walled or stockaded hold and village after another. The cavalry, particularly the light cavalry, took heavy losses in this campaign. Once arrived back at the camp under Mehseepolis' walls, Bralos set about buying horses and equipment to replace losses, carted out wainloads of damaged items for repair and had broadcast a call for men to fill out his ranks . . . and they came, despite the measures taken by his peers in military rank to prevent them so doing. They came because-despite the brutally hard service to which Wolf Squadron had been subjected- very few troopers had been lost due to malnourish-ment or frostbite, most casualties being the result of enemy action or common accident or mischance.

Although the snows came, this unpleasant fact did not prevent the army being marched forth on another campaign for the year, this one to the south and last-ing the most of the winter.

Barely had the next spring been ushered in when Wolf Squadron and half of the Horseclan Squadron were dispatched again to another stretch of border to deal with yet another pack of bandit-raiders whose ongoing depredations were become the bane of two morethoheeksee. So once more Bralos rode north with Captain Chief Pawl Vawn of Vawn.

This action did not take as much time, for Chief Pawl was senior officer from the start, and immedi-ately it was seen by him and Bralos that the border was being used just as the other bandits had used it, he rode into the mountains with local hunters and chewed the fat with his fellow barbarian chiefs, and shortly he and Bralos were headed back to Mehseepolis with a long coffle of slaves-to-be and but few losses from among their own ranks.

It had been during the campaign of the previous winter-that one conducted along the ill-defined bor-der of the sinister Witch Kingdom, which lay some-where deep within the dank, dark, overgrown wilderness of ghoul-haunted fens and monster-teeming swamps, where huge and often deadly serpents slithered, where carpets of lush vegetation concealed beds of quicksand and bottomless pools of brackish water-that GrandStrahteegos Pahvlos had acquired a lover. This boy of about fourteen or fifteen, Ilios by name and the recog-nized b.a.s.t.a.r.d of athoheeks, reared in his father's household and extended most of the same education and advantages as had his legitimate half brothers, was as pretty as a young girl, and Pahvlos' possession was envied by those officers and soldiers of similar tastes; the rest referred to him in private as "IliosPooeesos ."It had been determined much later by general consensus that the coming of this Ilios had marked the very beginnings of old Pahvlos' abrupt change of character, when he first began to drive the army unmercifully in the field and exact upon the flesh of his soldiers such exaggerated outrages of discipline that, had he not died when he had, he might have sundered the army apart. As it was, he came quite close to tearing apart the Council ofThoheeksee.

Chapter V.

Upon arrival of the victorious cavalry column at the crossroads just beyond the army's camp, Captain Bralos, having rather urgent business in the commerce district of Mehseepolis, ordered his senior lieutenant to take the squadron into camp, while he and his personal guards accompanied the lancers and Horseclansmen guarding and guiding the hundred-odd chained prison-ers bound for the state slave pens, these situated be-hind a palisaded enclosure just beyond the city's west gate, the ever-present stenches of it, the main abattoir and the tanneries nearby borne away from the city on the prevailing winds.

A low hill with a wide, flattish top a few hundred yards west of the tanneries had become the new loca-tion of executions, the former one, when Mehseepolis had been merely a ducal city, having been used as the site of the slave pens. Bralos and the column of hors.e.m.e.n and stumbling war captives slowly pa.s.sed the place of terror, of torment and death. There ap-parently had been no recent crucifixions, forall the line of uprights sat without crosspieces, bare save for black crows perching atop three of them, with wistful hope. Beyond them, Bralos could discern the bulk of the permanent gallows, large enough to hang as many as a dozen miscreants at once. A powerful shudder suddenly coursed through the length of him, and he tore his gaze away to look up at the blue skies . . . only to see the buzzards patiently gliding, circling the abattoir and slave pens.

Inside the outer palisade, a quartet of burly, cruel-looking men shoved and cuffed and cudgeled the bone-weary captives into several files, counted them and reported to a languid, bored-appearing man who had earlier introduced himself to Bralos as one Kahsos of Ahkapnospolis (his lack of t.i.tle indicated him to be a younger son whose patrimony had been a small city or walled town, but in polite conversation, he would still be addressed as "lord," of course).

Leading the way to the smallest of the buildings, the gentleman ushered his n.o.ble military guest in, saw him seated, then poured two battered bra.s.s cups half full of a sour, unwatered wine, before seating himself and starting to dictate a receipt to a scribe whose ankles were fettered and joined by a chain.

When he was done and the slave scribe was busy with the sanding and the affixing of the seal to the doc.u.ment, the gentleman said, "My lordVahrohnos, you could not have brought these slaves to us at a better time. When the last batch were gelded, an appalling number of the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds had the effrontery to die on us, many more of them than is at all normal after geldings, so oldThoheeks Bahos, who heads up the Roads and Walls Committee in Council, is fuming, fit to be tied, swears he's going to send out a real surgeon oreeahtros and insist he and his helpers do all future geldings."

"Who had you had doing them before, Lord Kahsos?" asked Bralos. "Some of your guards?"

The reply made him sorry he had asked. "No, my lordVahrohnos, a man name of Pehlzos, used to be a swine-breeder, works now over at the abattoir. He's going to be madder than hops at the loss of his three coppers for each pair of b.a.l.l.s if the man lived, one copper was he to die.

"Very funny story, my lordVahrohnos, about the time we threw a slave and Pehlzos come to find out when he went in his bag, the d.a.m.n b.a.s.t.a.r.d didn't have but the one ball, and while Pehlzos was squatting down there with that single ball in his hand, arguing about how we was still going to owe him the going rate and all, that slave b.a.s.t.a.r.d, he jerked one hand loose of the straps, took up one of old Pehlzos' knifes and put it through his own heart, right there. I ended up giving Pehlzos a half-copper for that one, and he was bellyaching about it and over it for weeks; still brings it up now and then."

A few yards outside the city gates, Bralos signaled his guards to rein up, kneed his horse over to the side of the road, leaned from his saddle and retched until nothing more would come up. To solicitous words from the guards, he remarked, "That country gentle-man's wine, or whatever the stuff really was, was fouler than swampwater or ditchwater running off a new-mucked field. Far better that it be back at home in that ditch than sloshing about in my poor belly."

"Well, then," remarked his guards-sergeant, Tahntos, slyly, "will my lord be wanting to stop by a wineshop to get the taste of that brew from out his mouth?"

"No, my good Tahntos." Pausing long enough to see the disappointment register on Tahntos' face and that of the others before continuing, he said, "But all of you have my leave to visit Master Keemohsahbis'

place while I call upon Master Haigh's smithy, across the way . . . just so long as you all stay sober enough to easily stay on a horse and ride with me back to camp, that is."

Seated again in the crowded little chamber off the smithy, Bralos gratefully savored the tart bite ofMas-ter Haigh's strong winter cider for a few moments before broaching his reason for coming this day.

"Master Haigh, that fine mailshirt I bought from you, away back when first we two met, saved my life on this last campaign, making it to my mind worth every lastthrahkmeh of that steepish price."