A Cat of Silvery Hue by Adams Robert

Bili chuckled to himself. The chestnut could be as stubborn as could his own destrier, Mahvros. “Can you climb twelve-foot stone walls, brother? Will your plates stop sixty-pound boulders or eight-foot spears? Or do you intend to catch them all in your teeth?” “My lord duke?”

Bili turned to face Pawl Raikuh, half-armored, the hilt of his broadsword jutting up behind his left shoulder, his left hand gripping a five-foot spearshaft with a two-foot double-edged pikeblade riveted to it. Behind the captain stood Sergeant Geros, similarly accoutered, holding a ten-foot staff about which was furled the Red Eagle Banner of the House and Clan of Morguhn.

“What are you doing here, Pawl?” demanded Bili, surprise in his voice. “I’d thought you’d send Hoguhn or Krahndahl to lead this contingent. Surely you’re not depending on either of them to lead our cavalry today?”

Raikuh grinned. “No, my lord. My lord’s brother, Lord Djaikuhb, vice-captains his horse for this engagement.”

Bili started, then relaxed, smiling. “Oh, nominally, you mean. I thank you for that courtesy, Pawl.”

“No courtesy that.” Raikuh shook his head, his lobsterback napeguard rattling. “Lord Djaik will lead. And it comes to action, I’m sure he’ll do my lord proud.”

“Oh, come now, Pawl,” snapped Bili. “Our troop is entirely made up of veterans. They’ll not be putting their lives in the balance at the behest of a fourteen-year-old. Men have to respect a war leader.”

Raikuh sobered. “And respect my lord’s brother, they do. Any who chanced not to see Lord Djaik fence our senior weapons master, old Pyk, to a standstill have heard of it And besides, they be flattered to have my lord’s brother to lead them.” ‘

“And what of my other brother, Gilbuht? He be anything but feckless. Will he then follow the dictates of a younger brother?”

Raikuh’s grin returned to his scarred face. “Hardly, my lord. Your brothers had . . . ahhh, some words on the matter, and Lord Gil has elected to ride with Duke Hwahltuh’s force.”

I’ll just bet they had some words on the matter, thought Bili. Since first the two cadets had been reunited, it had often been all that their older brother and chief could do to keep them from each other’s throats. Both were experienced warriors and natural leaders, that last being a part of the problem. But the biggest bone of contention lay to the north, in the lands where they had had their upbringing and arms training. The Duchy of Zuhnburk, which had sheltered Gil for nearly eight years, was a traditional ally of the Kingdom of Harzburk; and Harzburk’s ancient foe was the Kingdom of Pitzburk, which had for six years had the training of Djaik.

When Strahteegos Vahrohnos Ahrtos of Theeispolis reported his troops ready, the High Lord, wearing no more armor than did Bili and Captain Raikuh, emerged from his pavilion and mounted his chestnut, banging a hooked and spiked war hammer on his pommel. At his mindspeak, his mount began a slow trot toward the waiting infantry ranks.

As there had been no desire to keep secret their objectives, engines had been pounding the fortifications crowning and ringing the two hillocks since there had been enough light to sight them. They were still at it. Bili could see the dust spurts, hear the distance-muffled thuds of the boulders against masonry, timbers and earthworks, while the smoke of the blazes caused by the pitchballs and firespears rose high into the windless morning sky. The smoke columns reminded him of the similar columns which had borne to Wind the smoke of his brother Djef, and those others of his and Hwahltuh’s folk killed by the rebels when they had sortied out against those besieging Morguhn Hall.

To his experienced eye, it did not appear that the engines had done much real damage to the salients. A few stones had been loosened or knocked askew here and there; the timber facings of some of the earthworks were smashed and splintered in places. But the bulk of the thick, wide, cunningly laid abattises-designed to hold attacking men in one place long enough for arrows and darts to thin their ranks-seemed virtually untouched.

The High Lord’s mindspeak answered the question. “Oh, yes, Bili, my engineers know their work. But much of that is green wood, still in the bark and hard to fire. Too, the bastards apparently have plenty of water and they’ve quenched nearly every fire we’ve managed to start. I can but hope you’re as good at axing wood as you are at axing men.”

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