“Every ehkleeseeah, every monastery, every farm or pasturage or orchard or vineyard or quarry, every rural building or urban property is being cataloged. My agents are going over them with a louse comb, and wherever they uncover evidence of illegal activities, they are empowered to slap the ehkleeseeahee and monasteries with a stiff fine, while any of the other categories are to simply be confiscated to the Confederation … all except the brothels, that is.”
“Why not the brothels?” Mara queried impishly. “Just think, if the Confederation owned the brothels, the High-Lord could use them free.”
He refused to rise to the jest. “No, I had a better idea. I’m having the Church’s ownerships publicized!”
“Oh . . . ohhhh … oh, Milo, ohhhhh!” Clutching her sides and roaring with laughter, she rolled back on the cushions. Finally, she sat up, gasping for breath, her eyes streaming. “Oh, Milo, you’re really a terrible man, you know? Of course the Eeyehrefsee will all deny it, but, people being what they are, no one will believe them.” Then she lapsed into another laughing fit.
Arising to his feet, Milo retrieved his goblet and brought the decanter from the table. After refilling for them both, he said, “Laughing Girl, if you can control yourself long enough, I’ll tefl you why Harzburk will be attacked by Pitzburk if Harzburk attacks Kuhmbuhluhn … unless you’re no longer interested….”
On a cold, wet, blustery night in mid-March, three men met in a stone-and-timber hunting lodge near the walled city of Haiguhzburk, capital of the Duchy of Kuhmbuhluhn. On the wide, deep hearth, behind a man-high screen of brass wire, the fire was crackling its way into a huge pinelog and the bright light of the blaze illumined the large-scale map spread on the floor before it. Two-score Horseclansmen ringed the old, two-story building, while ten-score of their kindred patrolled the surrounding forest on their tough, shaggy little horses. And farther out, among the dripping trees and soggy underbrush, ranged a dozen of the great prairie cats.
During the months Milo’s heterogeneous army awaited Zastros, Thoheeks Greemos and Duke Djefree of Kuhmbuhluhn had become fast friends. Now, the new Confederation Strahteegos traced the twisting course of the river that bisected the eastern half of the duchy.
“I could wish, Djef, that the army could headquarter at Mahrtuhnzburk and force the enemy to come to us, rather than trying to hold the damned border north of here. You’re sure the invasion will come through that area we rode over, are you?”
Duke Djefree was as broad and as muscular as the Thoheeks, though nearly two hands shorter and twenty years older. Like most men who often wore both helm and beaver, his cheeks and chin were clean-shaven and his snow-white hair had been clipped within an inch of his scalp. Taking his pipe from between his strong, yellow teeth, he used its mouthpiece as a pointer.
“Oh, yes, Big Brother, if the allies follow the strategy that my spies at all three courts assure me will be followed, this is the only feasible route. They know that they must have all three of their armies combined to defeat mine and the troops they’re sure my overlord will loan me.”
Greemos’ saturnine face mirrored puzzlement “But how do they know your army will be there to meet them?”
The Duke shrugged his wide shoulders. “Because they know I know they’re coming in there; they have as many spies in my court as do I in theirs. That’s why we are met here alone tonight with My Lord Milo’s men for guards, rather than mine own.”
“But, good God, man!” Greemos expostulated explosively. “Think on it! They coulo! be deliberately misleading your agents in the hope that you will mass your forces there. Then they could cross the border directly north of either of your principal cities.”
Duke Djefree just shook his scarred head calmly. “Oh, no, Brother, they can only attack the old capital from the east. In order to get north of it, they would have to go through Tuhseemark, and Marquis Hwahruhn would never permit their passage, of course.”
“He’s a friend of yours, then, Djef?” probed Greemos. “Does he have enough troops to menace the enemy’s Bank?”