“I say, Wind help us, if you are correct in your surmise,” Milo said gravely. “Now that you jog my memory, I recall something else. Thoheeks Sami was a real scholar for his generation, with a penchant for collecting books on all aspects of warfare. If it be true that his library has survived and is in the hands of a rebel who can read, appreciate and utilize it, I may have to hie the rest of the Confederation Army down here or sacrifice a ruinous number of those we have to hack a way into Vawnpolis!”
Bili shrugged. “But why, my lord? Why not invest the city, throw up siegeworks, emplace our engines and simply sit and pound and burn and starve the bastards out?”
Sir Ehdt answered. “Time, Duke Bili-time.”
“Yes, Kinsman,” Thoheeks Skaht agreed. “You and I and Thoheeks Baikuh are not too far from our lands but most of our Kindred have a fair distance to go and harvest time be near.”
Milo reiterated. “As I said earlier, gentlemen, I’d not plan on being home for harvest-especially not in the light of what the High Lady and I have recalled. Barring a miracle of some order, it may well be spring ere we see the inside of Vawnpolis.”
While most sat in silence, striving to digest this unpleasantness, a guards officer bustled in and caught the High Lord’s eye. “My lord, a … ahhh, delegation of mountain barbarians has suddenly appeared in the very center of the camp. Somehow they must have filtered through patrols, sentries and all. They are . . . most arrogant. They demand to have words with the commander of this army.”
The men who at length were ushered into the conference chamber were fascinating to Bili, who had never before seen men of their race. He immediately decided they were the most villianous crew of unwashed cutthroats he had ever beheld. Yet their spokesman bore himself with a definite majesty and, despite their uniform tatters and lack of manners, all radiated a fierce pride and unmistakable self-assurance.
They were tall, big-nosed, large-eyed men, most of them as dark as kath-ahrohs Ehleenee. They were all muscle and sinew and scarred, dirty skin over large bones. Their loose, ragged homespun breeches were tucked into short boots of undressed hide, and a miscellany of antique armor was fitted over billowing sleeved shirts of the same material. Because they had stoutly refused to surrender their arms, they were almost surrounded by a score of guardsmen, arrows nocked and bows half-drawn.
Ignoring the other men, the leader-Bili surmised him to be a hereditary chief, since his age, roughly twenty-five, was less than that of most of his companions-swaggered forward and addressed himself to Milo.
“I am Hyk Ahrahkyuhn, Undying witchman. Are you come to steal more of our lands? You should have brought more fighters for this collection of dullards will win you only enough to hold their bleached bones. Take your landstealers back to their sties, witchman, and they’ll live to breed you more shoats. For I warn you, my tribe will not be robbed again. Bring this herd of rooting swine into our mountains, and the treecats will be a-feasting on their stones and yards whilst their sows are wailing and taking their pleasures with carrots and corncobs!”
There was a concerted growl from those about the table. Both the Skaht and the Baikuh surreptitiously fingered their hilts, grim hatred on their faces at this confrontation with an ancient enemy. But Thoheeks Hwahltuh smiled, recognizing and appreciating the arrogance and courage of a kindred spirit.
Milo smiled too. Take your headmen back home, Der Hyk. We have no designs on your mountains-not this time, anyway. This army is in Vawn on other business. We’ll only fight you if we have to, if you are so unwise as to force the issue.”
The mountain chief drew himself up, his black eyes flashing defiance. “We have taken over the border forts, witchman; we will not give them back!”
“Then they’ll be taken back!” snarled Thoheeks Skaht, half rising, hand gripping hilt, the big knuckles shining white. “And it’s your wormy women will be breeding more of your kind to he-goats and jackasses, which latter must have been your paternity, from the look of your long donkey face!”