He struck!
Maamo fell thrashing to the roadway, growling and gurgling, while the others, humans and ogres, stared thunderstruck. But in brief seconds he got slowly up again. “Excuse me, my lord,” he said to the adjutant. I am all right now.”
The man’s mouth was a slack O, his brows high, his eyes as nearly round as they could get. “What happened to you?”
It was Demon-Maamo he faced, the ogre elemental possessed. He sensed a difference, but not what it was. ‘It is something that happens when I am greatly tired,” said Demon-Maamo. “I’ll have no further trouble when we’ve had our break.”
The adjutant nodded dubiously and turned as if to speak to the soldiers. At that moment, Demon-Maamo spoke in the ogre speech—”Kill the soldiers, now!” and drew his huge sword. In a continuation of the movement, he struck the adjutant with it, halving him at the waist. It caught the man in the act of turning—he’d heard the hiss of the sword being drawn—and the torso continued a quarter turn before it fell to the road beside the tumbled legs. By that time Demon-Maamo was striking the human sergeant. The other yetis were slow to respond,
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even to the compelling personality of the elemental ogre, for the order was counter to their conditioning. By the time they acted, Demon-Maamo had killed a second and third soldier. The horses were stamping nervously, snorting, but they’d been trained to stand while cattle were killed around them, and did not panic. In less than five seconds, all the soldiers were dead.
“Do not harm the captives,” said Demon-Maamo then. And knowing the loyalty conditioning the yetis had been given, added, “They belong to the emperor. We must get them to him safely. This one”—he gestured at the isected adjutant—”was a traitor. He planned treachery.”
He turned to Jampa. With a sword at his back, the old man could be no threat. And he could prove useful, if the emperor valued him so greatly. The same should be true of the blind man. “Do not move,” said Demon-Maamo. “Tell your blind friend not to move.” Then, to the other ogres: “Drive the horses into the hay field; all but theirs.” He gestured toward the captives. “Take out their bits, and they will stay to graze.”
While the other ogres moved the horses, Demon-Maamo threw the bodies into the ditch, ending bloody to the elbows and beyond. In the darkness the tall grass hid the bodies. By the time it was light, it wouldn’t matter. There was water there, too, and he washed the blood off as best he could. It would do by torchlight, he told himself. It would have to.
Now the die was cast. He did not give his ogres the ten-minute break the adjutant had intended. For all he knew, the Circle might be checking them intermittently, and if they checked now … It seemed imperative that they get inside the Great Gate as quickly as possible, or it might be shut to them.
FORTY-SEVEN
Nogai and another guard arrived with Baver at the emperor’s study. They entered and bowed deeply, the guards sweating. There might have been a minute’s worth of sand left in the glass. In the meantime the emperor had dressed, and buckled on the imperial sword, a symbol of his family’s warriorhood,
“You did well, corporal,” he said. “I will remember your alacrity.”
Nogai bowed low again. “Thank you, Your Magnificence.”
“And you, star man. I have tried your weapon. It works admirably.” He held it in his hand and casually pointed it at Baver. Baver only half noticed, for on the other broad arm of the emperor’s chair lay his lost recorder! His heart lifted to see it. Obviously his captors had brought along his saddlebags. Probably the emperor wanted a demonstration.
“I’m glad you like it, Your Magnificence,” he said. And was aware of mockery behind the emperor’s smile. The man was playing with him.
“Indeed! Then you will be pleased to answer my questions. Among your people, are you a warrior? A soldier?”
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“No, Your Magnificence, I’m not. As I said before, my job is to learn about other peoples.”