When Bili joined the Komees and Captain Raikuh atop the corner tower closest to the enemy camp, the old man shook his hehneted head. “I don’t know now. Possibly I erred in taking you all from your food, but when those bastards started milling about like flies on a dungheap, my first thought was that somehow or other that mob had been persuaded to launch a night assault, but they appear to be making no efforts to form up, so …”
“Ho, Chief Bili,” Hwahltuh Sanderz clambered up to the aerie, armed with dirk, saber, light axe, hornbow, and no less than three cases of arrows. Grinning happily he said, “My kin are all in the places Subchief Djeen said was best. Now when do we fight? Will it be soon, Kinsman?”
The old Komees frowned and shrugged. “Maybe yes, maybe no, Chief Hwahltuh. All we can be certain of is that something unusual is going on down there. It can’t be the arrival of the rebels’ siege tram, for their engines—such as the slapdash, jerry-built contraptions are-rolled in at twilight, along with their tents and baggage. I’ll tell you all, it sounds to me like reinforcements coming into camp, which would also account for all the hubbub round about the commander’s pavilion.”
“But where, My Lords,” asked Captain Raikuh, “would Lord Myros get more troops? Not in this Duchy certainly. Now were this the Middle Kingdoms, any one or more of your neighbor lords could well be bringing his men in to augment whichever side offered the most in the way of land or loot, but…”
“Your pardon, Captain,” Bili interrupted. “There’s but one way to find out the truth of what’s causing the rebels to so bestir themselves, when they should be licking their wounds and getting ready to die tomorrow.”
“Now, hold!” snapped Komees Djeen. “I agree, a sortie may be just the thing, especially if we can capture an officer or priest alive. But I’ll not see you leading that sortie, Thoheeks Biji! If that’s what you had in mind, think you you’ve not yet fully recovered from your wounds of that affray at the bridge. Besides, you’re Chief now. It’s not your place to lead attacks. You’re the clan’s strategist, to use army terminology; the Tahneest and the Subchiefs are the tacticians. Tahneest Djehf may not own your skill with that overgrown axe you fancy, but he’s a stark warrior for all that, and he’s a sound head on his shoulders. I’ve conversed with him-I know!”
Bill’s left hand, gripping his swordhilt, was the only visible strain in his demeanor; its knuckles shone white as snow. However, when he spoke his voice was controlled, though steely-cold as a drawn blade. “Komees Djeen, I’ve deferred to your wisdom and experience in most aspects of warfare, as should all men here, for your knowledge of combats and sieges and weapons is truly encyclopedic. But if you think that on your word alone I’m going to climb up on the shelf and allow my brother or other men to do my fighting for me, you have seriously misjudged both my mettle and your own importance!”
Hwahltuh Sanderz laid his hand on Bili’s rigid forearm. “Kinsman Chief, your words make my heart warm. From what I had seen riding through the lands south of here, I had thought that courage and honor and love of fighting had been bred out of all the eastern Kindred. But in you, I see I was mistaken. You eat Dirtman food and you wash too much, true, but for all that you live to the Law.”
Then the wiry little Chief turned to the Komees, saying reprovingly, “Subchief Djeen, you give shameful advice to your Chief. He is Chief and son of a Chief. As such, his duty under The Law is to lead his clan, while your duty under The Law is to follow him. The Couplets of The Law say:
For it is meet the old should teach the young
Of how the bow be drawn, the saber swung.
“You are far older than Chief Bili, even older than am I. So why is it that you needs must be instructed in your proper duty?”