"It was after winter came that we heard of your great victory over the Roman legions. I have once before seen what Tamaerthon archers can do in battle, and it came to me that with the forces I hold and can gather, and with the aid of some thousands of your archers, we can drive Sarakos from Drantos and restore the lady Tylara to her dower lands. This I have come to ask."
Drumold leaned close to Rick. "What think you of this?"
"Lord Camithon," Rick said, "have you forgotten the star men and their weapons?"
"No," Camithon said. "This is the welcome news I bring. The star men have divided. Many have fled from Sarakos. Fewer than a dozen remain. Surely a dozen men will not frighten you who have bested the Romans."
"How do you know the star men have divided?"
Rick demanded.
Camithon smiled grimly. "I have brought a present for Mac Clallan Muir and his daughter." He turned to an officer. "Bring in the prisoner."
The officer left and returned moments later with a man dressed in peasant woolen trousers and thick jacket. He had a scraggly beard that hadn't been shaved or trimmed for weeks, and his hands were shackled together with iron bracelets riveted to a foot-long chain.
He stood sullenly, looking defiantly at the council table, until he saw Rick. He stared a moment, then shouted, "Captain! For God's sake, Captain, help me!"
It was Private Warner.
Despite the blazing fire, Rick's quarters were cold. And not just the chilly air, Rick thought. He could feel the chill radiating from where Tylara sat by the hearth.
"I had thought you would be pleased," she said. "Are not your enemies my enemies? Sarakos can be killed, and I can rid myself of this burning hatred for him-"
"We don't know that," Rick said. "Tylara-Tylara, every time I think of what Sarakos did to you, I get sick. I hate him as much as you do. I love you!"
"You do not seem to."
"More than you know," Rick said. "It is my wish to make Tamaerthon strong without endless war. Should we risk all that for revenge?"
Before she could answer, there was a knock at the door. "Come in," Rick called with relief.
Warner had been shaved and given better clothes. He was almost pathetically grateful when Jamiy brought him in. "Thank God you're here, Captain. Thank God-"
"Have a seat," Rick invited. "Jamiy, pour him a cup of wine."
Warner sat gratefully. He chugged the wine, and Rick poured his cup full again. "Take it easy," he said. "Before you get drunk, I want to know your story." He laughed. "You know, it wasn't a week ago I was wishing I had you around. I was trying to derive some of Newton's equations. Think you can remember college physics?"
"Yes, sir," Warner said. "Uh-ballistics?"
"Maybe," Rick said. "But mostly just general science." He switched to the local Tran dialect. "Warner, this is the lady Tylara. We'd both like to hear your story."
"Yes, sir. But could I have some more wine first?" Warner drank eagerly. "Where should I begin?"
"We know Parsons made an alliance with Sarakos," Rick said. "And that you helped him win the battle against the Drantos army. What happened after that?"
"At first it was pretty good," Warner said. "Captain, I can tell this better in English."
"Go ahead. I'll translate for Tylara."
"Yes, sir. Well, like I said, at first it was pretty good. We'd won, and we owned the country. Parsons gave each one of us a couple of local girls. It was a little funny owning slaves, but that's the way things are here. We had women and jewels and lots of good food and pretty good wine, and it was like Parsons said it would be. We lived like kings. Even out in the field we had servants. We took over the best houses for quarters, and we didn't have to fight much-just when the locals ran into something they couldn't handle. Then we'd come up with the machine guns and the mortars.
"Everything was fine for a couple of months, but then it all came apart. Guerrilla war. Captain, it was like Vietnam, only worse, because we didn't have any choppers or trucks or anything. We had to ride horses, and by the time we got anywhere, the char-lies had gone off into the hills. We weren't safe anywhere outside castles. Ride through the woods and you never knew but what an arrow or a crossbow bolt would kill you.
"It just never stopped, and it didn't look like it was ever going to get any better, either. Those people hated us, and we couldn't kill all of them. And it got kind of hungry, too, even for us — and we had more to eat than the poor bastards with us. And Parsons! He got so mean, you couldn't get near him. Claimed it was all our fault — we weren't disciplined enough-but he'd fix that. So one day a bunch of us got fed up and rode off."
"How many?" Rick asked.
"Twenty-two," Warner said. "Gengrich and I organized it. We went south, to the city-state territory. We needed some way to make a living, so we arranged to hire out to the city republic of Kleistinos. They fed us and our wives — most of us brought one or both of the girls we'd been living with-and we didn't have to fight, either. Come spring we were supposed to escort a big caravan south, and that sure sounded like easier work than what Parsons had us doing."
"So how did you end up here?"
Warner looked sheepish."! got drunk, passed out in a tavern, and woke up with those handcuff things. The local tavernkeeper sold me to the Drantos rebels."
"I see. Excuse me, I'd better tell Tylara what's going on." Rick summarized Warner's story.
"They are not rebels," Tylara said coldly when Rick finished. "They are fighting for their homes against bandits."
"Yes, Lady," Warner said. "If you say so-"
"She did say so," Rick said. He changed to English to say, "I'd be very careful, were I you. She's got a sharp temper and a sharper dagger." He poured himself a cup of wine. "What weapons did Gengrich take with him?"
"One of the mortars," Warner said. "And our rifles and pistols, of course."
"So Andrй has one mortar and the recoilless. How many mortar bombs?"
"I'd guess a dozen," Warner said.
"The star men are greatly weakened," Tylara said. "And Sarakos has lost much of his army."
"They're not as strong as they were," Warner agreed. "Captain, are you planning on fighting them?"
"I don't know."
Tylara looked at him coldly.
"Sweetheart, you don't understand," Rick said. They think because we handled the Romans so easily, Parsons can't be that tough. They just don't know. One mortar shell in the right place, and I don't have a pike regiment, I have a disorganized mob. And Yatar knows what machine guns would do to my archers-"
Tylara got up and went to the door. "Jamiy," she said. She pointed to Warner. "Take him to his quarters."
"He's to be well treated, but he is not to escape," Rick said. "Warner, I really am glad to see you. If we all survive, you're going to be a professor in the only university on Tran."
"I'd like that," Warner said. "It's got to be better than fighting for a living."
Rick waited until Jamiy and Warner had left, then turned to Tylara with a sigh. "All right, darling. Let's have it out."
3
Her cold look changed to one of unhappiness. "I do not like to quarrel with you," she said.
"God knows I don't enjoy it much either-"
"Please. Let me finish. All winter my father and I have waited for you to speak formally to him of our future."
"I was waiting to be sure you wanted me to," Rick said. "And I wasn't sure when would be the right time-"
"I had hoped you wanted me."
"I do. God knows I do. I love you," Rick said.
"As I love you. More than you know. Our customs are not yours. Never in our memory has a woman married before she was avenged, yet — yet I was willing to do so. Rick, your ways are strange. You are not like my husband was. You are a warrior, but you do not wish to fight. I have seen men insult you, and yet you did nothing, though lesser words demand blood-"