“Get out here,” he shouted, scratching his head so hard that a shower of dandruff sparkled in the sunbeam. “I’ve told you all, no groats until morning after next.” “I’ve not enlisted yet – nor will I if that’s the way you pay the troops. “ “Sorry, good stranger, sun in my eyes. Come in, come in. Enlist? Of course. Gun and sword-and ammunition?” “Some.” “Wonderful.” His hands rustled when he dry-washed them. “Food for you and your knave and a groat a day.” “Two a day and all ammunition used to be replaced. “ He . scowled-then shrugged and scratched one of the sheets and pushed it over to me. “A one-year enlistment, salary open to review at end of contract. Since you can’t read or write I hope you can manage to scratch your illiterate X down here.” “I can read so well I see that you have me down for four years, which I will now correct before I sign.” Which I did, writing Judge Nixon’s name on the line, knowing full well that I would be leaving well before my enlistment was up. “I’ll get my knave who awaits without, along with my aged father. “ “No extra food for poor relations!” he snarled generously. “You share yours.” “Agreed,” I said. “You’re all heart.” I went back to the gate and waved my companions over. “You owe me,” the guard said.
“I’ll pay you-when that scrofulous toad pays me.” He grunted agreement. “If you think he’s bad-wait until you meet Capo Dimonte. I wouldn’t be hanging around this damp dump if it weren’t for the loot bonus. “ They were coming on slowly. The Bishop half dragging the reluctant Dreng.
“Loot bonus? Paying out soon?” “Soon as the fighting is over. We march tomorrow.” “Against Capo Doccia?” “No such luck. The word is that he is loaded with jewels and golden groats and more. Be nice to share in that haul. But not this time. All they have told us is that we are heading north. Must be a surprise attack on someone, 167 probably a friend, and they don’t want word to leak out That’s good thinking. Catch them with their drawbridge down and it’s half the battle.” I pondered this bit of military wisdom as I led my small band in the indicated direction. The soldier’s quarters, while not. something to put in a travel brochure, were certainly a cut above the slave quarters. Wooden bunks with straw mattresses for the fighting men – some straw under the bunk for the knave. I would have to make some arrangements for The Bishop, but I was sure that bribery would take care of that. We sat together on the bunk while Dreng went to find the kitchen. “How is the back?” I asked.
“Sore, but only a small bother. I’ll take bit of a rest, then begin a survey of the layout...” “In the morning will be time enough. It has been a long couple of days.” “Agreed. And here is your knave with the food!” It was a hot stew with fragments of some nameless bird bobbing in it. Had to be a bird; the feathers were still attached. We divided the stew into three equal portions and wolfed it down. All this fresh air and walking was certainly good for the appetite. There was also a ration of sour wine which neither I nor The Bishop could stomach. Not so Dreng, who slurped and smacked his way through it in moments. Then rolled under the bunk and began to snore raucously.
“I’m going to have a look around,” I said. “Take a rest on the bunk until I get back...” I was interrupted by an off-key blare on a bugle. I looked up to see that the malevolent musician was standing in the doorway. He emitted another toneless blast. I was ready to grab him by the throat if he tried it again, but he stepped aside and bowed. A thin figure in blue uniform took his place. All of the soldiers who were watching bowed their heads slightly or shook their weapons in salute, so I did the same. It could be no other than Capo Dimonte himself.
He was lean to the point of being hollow-stomached. He either had circulation trouble or was naturally blue of skin. His little red eyes peered out of hollow blue sockets, while he fingered his blue jaw with azure fingers. He looked around suspiciously, then spoke: for all of his leanness his voice had a deep strength to it.
“My men, I have good news for you. Prepare yourselves and your weapons for we march at midnight. This will be a forced march to enable us to reach Pinetta Woods before dawn. Fighting men only-and we travel light. Your knaves will stay here to look after your goods. We will lay up there during the day, then leave at dusk tomorrow. We will meet our allies during Uie night and join forces for an assault on the enemy at dawn. “ “A question, Capo,” one of the men called out. He was grizzled and scarred, obviously a veteran of many conflicts. “Against whom do we march?” “You will be told before the attack. We will gain victory only by surprise. “ There were murmurs on all sides as the veteran called out again.
“Our enemy a mystery-at least tell us then who are our allies.” Capo Dimonte was not pleased with the question. He scratched his chin and fiddled with the hilt of his sword while his audience waited. He obviously needed our voluntary assistance, so in the end he spoke.
“You will all be pleased to hear that we have allies of great strength and will. They also have war machines to batter the stoutest wall. With their assistance we can take any keep, defeat any army. We are lucky to serve at their side.” He pressed his lips together, reluctant to go on but still knowing that he must.
“Our victory is assured since our allies are none other than... the order of the Black Monks. “ There -was a long moment of shocked silence-followed instantly by shouts of anger. The significance of all this escaped me-other than the fact that it did not sound good at all.
Chapter 24
As soon as he had spoken, Capo Dimonte made his exit and the door slammed shufbehind him. There were shouts and cries of anger from all sides-but there was one man who bellowed louder than all the others. It was the scarred veteran. He climbed onto a table and shouted them all into silence.
“Everyone here knows me, knows old Tusker. I was cutting off heads when most of you weren’t even potty trained. So I’m going to talk and you are going to listen and then you will get a chance to talk too. Anyone here don’t like that idea?” He closed one immense fist and held it out, then turned in a circle, scowling fiercely. There were some angry mutters, but none loud enough to imply disagreement.
“Good. Then listen. I know those black-frocked buggers from a long way back and I don’t trust them. All they think of is their own hides. If they want us to fight for them that’s only because there is big trouble ahead and they would like to see us killed rather than them. I don’t like it.” “I don’t like it either,” another man called out. “But what kind of a choice do we have?” “None,” Tusker growled angrily. “And that’s what I was going to say next. I think we have been grabbed by the short and curlies.” He drew his sword and shook it at them. “Every weapon we have, outside of them new guns, comes firom the Black Monks. Without their supplies we have nothing to fight with, and without nothing to fight with we have nothing to do and we can starve or go back 169 to the farm. And that’s not for me. And it better not be for any of you either. Because we are all in this together. We all fight-or none fight. And if we fight and any of you try to sneak out of here before the action starts, then he is going to find my sword stuck all the way through his liver.” He shook the shining blade at them while they glared in silence.