The Kayles and their friends clapped enthusiastically. Cofflin went on: "I'll sort of condense it. We're going to be handing out more of these farms, a hundred and twenty or so. No room for more; it isn't a big island, and we can't take too much of the ground cover off or we'll have all sorts of problems with erosion and so on. Angelica tells me we can build up the soil fertility and we'll have more livestock soon. You all know we'll have another four big schooners by the end of summer, and some more tugs. There's more. Tom Ervine has his paper mill working-" another patter of applause; paper was so damned useful-"and the First Pacific Bank is reopening."
Boos and hisses at that. "I know, I know. But it's sure convenient to have money again, isn't it?" He put a hand into his pants pocket and held up a crisp ten-dollar note, the island's new issue. "Believe me, it's a big load off my shoulders. It's a lot easier to tell someone to go buy their own goddam dinner instead of figuring out rations!"
He threw his jacket across the chair behind him. Nobody, thank God, was wearing a necktie anymore, except a few fossils like Starbuck. "And I could go on and on. Ayup. What it amounts to is we're getting on our feet again, pretty well-better than any of us expected. So I'll move on to what we're all anxious about, how things are going over in England."
A stir and rustle of interest. "News just came through. That piece of…" Martha tugged at his leg. "… scum Walker has been making himself a kingdom over there. He's already got an army and he's making them iron weapons, and raiding and killing and taking slaves." A growl of anger rose from before him. "What's more, he and his Tartessian friend have built a ship, at least one, that Captain Alston says could easily carry a hundred men to Nantucket. There's some evidence he's made gunpowder; we've just now gotten our first small load of sulfur from the Caribbean, but there are sources in Britain, so he's ahead of us there."
Complete silence now, intent and focused. "If we'd left him another year, he'd have had cannon and a dozen ships ready to attack us. Captain Alston and the expeditionary force have already fought a battle with the savages he's got working for him." He paused, feeling the tension beating on him like heat. "The captain reports that the savages were completely defeated, with over a hundred dead, many more wounded, and the rest fleeing for their lives."
The crowd rose, cheering madly; men thumped each other on the back, women hugged. Cofflin raised a hand. "It wasn't cost-free. Six of our people were killed." The families had received first notification, of course, but otherwise he was ahead of the rumors.
Silence again, broken by a low murmur. Cofflin nodded. "This is serious business. I think we should have a moment of silence."
They waited with bowed heads. "And," he went on when it was over, "Captain Alston asks that we all remember them in our prayers."
Walker looked around the little natural amphitheater with disgust. It was dark now; attendants had lit torches on poles all around, and they still weren't an inch closer to deciding what to do. The ten chiefs and their principal retainers were making enough noise for a Red Sox game all by themselves. The sound died down a little as he stood and stepped forward to stand beside Daurthunnicar's chair-the others were on stools, to mark the Iraiina chief's status as High Rahax. Noise sank further when he slammed the iron butt cap of his spear against a rock; the steel sparked on the flint-rich lump of hardened chalk. When he had full silence, he leaned on the spear and spoke:
"Are you chieftains?" he asked rhetorically. "Are you even warriors of Sky Father's people?"
That brought their anger around on him. Good enough, he thought, meeting the glares. Most of these men had enough experience to control their tempers at least a little. If he could get them acting together, he could probably turn things around. Not if they went on quarreling with one another, though. Those hatreds were too old and well set.
"You promised us victory!" a chief shouted, the necklace of wolf teeth and gold bouncing on his barrel chest as he waved his fists in the air. "Instead the fighting men of a whole tribe are dead, and enemies raid our steadings!"
"I promised you victory if you followed my redes," he said coldly. "The Zarthani chose to flout them, going off on their own to raid without my-without our High Rahax's word."
Daurthunnicar stirred slightly; Walker cursed the stumble. His father-in-law was no fool; pig-ignorant and superstitious as a horse, but no fool.
"The Zarthani fell on their own deeds. If in battle one of your warriors turned from the fight to lie with a woman or drive off a cow without your let, while the arrows still flew and axes beat on shields, how would you do with him?"
He could feel the anger checked, coiled back. Bearded faces nodded. They'd hang such a man up by the ankle in a sacred grove and run a spear through him, and their whole tribes would cheer.
"And then the Zarthani had no better sense than to charge at the first foe they met, like a bull at a gate-none of you would have been so foolish, I'm sure." I'm sure most of you would have done exactly the same thing, he went on silently, watching their solemn nods. "So they let themselves be beaten by women," he concluded.
More nods. Daurthunnicar had been magnificently angry when he was finally convinced that Alston was a woman, and the other chiefs were horror-struck at the thought of the shame they'd bear if they were thrashed by one.
"I came here because you of Sky Father's tribes live as men should," he went on. They'll believe that. Vanity springs eternal. "But that doesn't mean that the Eagle People don't have strong knowledge of war. You're wearing it right now."
All the chiefs had mail hauberks and swords turned out in Walkerburg or brought as part of the Fare's cargo. Hands tightened on those swords as he spoke.
"And they have strong magic-thunder-death. I have the knowledge and the magic, together with the battle-luck of my rahax, to throw these woman-ruled foreigners back into the sea, dead. But you must move in better order, and obedient to the High Rahax's will, if we are to conquer now. As my handfast men threw back the Kayaltwar who raided us while our war host was away, so we will crush the Earth Folk and their allies-if you obey."
"And if we don't?" one chief said truculently, leaning forward. The firelight caught the ruddy bronze of the rings that held his braided hair and a black beard twisted into another braid that fell down his chest.
"Then the Iraiina will leave you to them," Walker said.
Daurthunnicar's hands clenched on the carved oak of his chair. It had taken a long day of argument, wheedling, and blunt threats of desertion to get him to go along with that.
"We came to the White Isle only last year," Walker went on, stretching the "we."
"With the weapons and arts we have now, we can push back the Keruthinii on the mainland. Anywhere away from the ocean, the Eagle People can't touch us." And I hope it doesn't occur to you that they could intercept us crossing the Channel, so my threat is empty. Aloud, he went on:
"But they can stamp you flat. You'll, be beaten by women, ruled by them… and you'll lose your lands and cattle and homes."
More uproar, gradually dying down. "You can beat these Eagle People?" one said at last.
"I believe we can-with Sky Father's help, and by striking hard and fast and skillfully, before they have a chance to teach the Earth Folk how to fight. It isn't courage the Earth Folk men lack; you know that." A few unwilling nods. "It's skill and leadership they want for. With it, and with their numbers…"