Reining about, he trotted out of the compound and down the hill.
Chapter 13
It was almost a week before Milo made it across the river. The wall had to be dismantled, of course, but that alone would not have detained him, for Lord Alexandras had left a couple of biremes and crews for his use. However, when certain of the Middle Kingdoms’ nobles were apprised that there would be no battle, after all, they split into two factions at the cores of-which were the contingents, from Harzburk and Pitzburk. Armed to the teeth, the factions mounted and rode into the fields west of the camp. And the resulting melee was only the first and largest. It was a very hectic period for the High-Lord.
At length, he had all the northern troops and their battered nobles on the march, their units separated and shepherded by strong bodies of Confederation regulars and Confederation-contracted Freefighters.
Dressed in his best clothing and finest armor, Milo strode out of his pavilion and had already ordered a charger when he felt a familiar touch on the back of his neck. Behind him stood the elephant.
Sunshine—she had chosen the name herself as her mindspeak improved with usage—was noticeably sleeker, as she well should have been, thought Milo, considering the fantastic amounts of food she had consumed. From all over the camp, men had come not just to see her, but to watch her eat. And “hungry as the elephant” had become a common expression to Milo’s army.
When Milo turned, Sunshine moved closer and placed her trunk tip on his shoulder so that its appendage might caress his skin. “Please God-Milo,” she begged, “do not send Sunshine away from you today. Take her with you.”
“Sunshine,” Milo gently and patiently mindspoke, “we have been through all this before. Where I live is cold for much of the year, colder than the land from which you came. You would quickly die there. You must go back south, Sunshine, but Gil will be with you all the way. He will see that you eat all you want and that no man harms you. And when I come to your land, I will visit you. Will not that make Sunshine happy?”
Her answer surprised him. “Let Sunshine bear God-Milo across the river, then, please. You will ride safer on Sunshine than on that skinny-legged little creature.” She pointed her trunk at where Milo’s groom stood waiting with a seventeen-hand war horse. “If you fight, how can that one protect you? Sunshine has slain many two-legs.”
“There will be no fight, Sunshine,” Milo assured her. “Those who were my enemies are now my friends, and you must promise not to hurt the few of them who remain beyond the river; you and Gil will be traveling with them.”
“Sunshine will not hurt any creatures Gil does not tell her to hurt,” she spoke. Then, “But … please ride Sunshine … ?”
“Why, Sunshine,” Milo asked, “is it so important to you that you carry me across the bridge?”
Sunshine came closer, tenderly wrapping him about with her trunk. “God-Milo is the first two-leg who was ever good to Sunshine, who spoke to her and treated her like … like a two-leg. Sunshine cannot stay with God-Milo to serve him all her days, as she should. Will not God-Milo allow her to serve him once… ?”
What the hell, thought Milo, how much more impressive an appearance could I make than arriving on an elephant?
“Gil!” he farspoke. “Have you rigged any sort of saddle for Sunshine?”
Gil stepped from behind the elephant, a sheepish grin on his face and his arms filled with an altered saddle and an assortment of odd harness.
“Damn it!” exclaimed Milo aloud. “You two planned this in advance! Admit it, kinsman!”
“Yes, God-Milo, Sunshine and I planned,” Gil mind-spoke. “But, God-Milo, she is very grateful to you … and she loves you. Often has our Clanbard said that nothing is so unkind as to force a man or woman to swallow honest gratitude unexpressed.”
Milo mindcalled the groom and the three of them saddled Sunshine. The saddle perfectly fitted the area just behind her head.