After Lord Alexandras was satisfied, he, Milo, and Mara came to an unofficial agreement. Then they and the two mercenary captains went before the Council of Chiefs.
Some seventy-odd of Milo’s personal troop had agreed to assume the surname Kuk and had elected Hwil Kuk to be their chief, whereupon, the council—in session two weeks agone—had unanimously welcomed Clan Kuk to the tribe. So now, forty-three chiefs sat in council.
After a certain amount of orderly debate—which to Lord Alexandras, Djeen, and Sam appeared to be a but barely controlled state of chaos and set them to nervously fingering their hilts, expecting a pitched battle to erupt at any moment, as furious rhetoric and deadly insults flew thick and fast among the chiefs—the agreement became official. Mara produced documents setting out the provisions of the alliance, in both Ehleeneekos and Old Meri-kan. Milo, Lord Alexandras, Djeen, Sam, and five of the chiefs signed it; the other chiefs made their marks.
In partial payment for aiding Lord Alexandras to ascend to the throne of his ancestors, the tribe was to receive clear title to whatever site Wind chose for then: city and its environs. In addition, High Lord Alexandras and his people were to render them every possible assistance in the construction of said city. While in no way subjects of the High Lord, the tribe willingly accepted the responsibility of continuing to provide troops for the High Lord’s armies. These troops were to be armed and mounted at tribe expense, but to be paid regular wages by the High Lord or his paymaster. In the present campaign, the tribe’s fighters were to function as skirmishers, shock-troops and/or a screening-force of horse-archers, while the Maiden Archers were to provide concentrated covering-fire where needed. Though the bulk of them were not to penetrate Kehnooryohs Atheenahs when it fell (a wise precaution, both Milo and Mara agreed, as: not even Milo himself could predict how the Horseclans-i men would behave), they were to be paid their fair shares of whatever loot might have been taken, had the city been properly sacked—something Lord Alexandras did; not care to countenance, knowing that only Demetrii and certain of the nobles were truly his enemies. Anoth provision was that, from the signing of the alliance hei forth, the nomads were to desist the despoiling the countryside and killing or enslaving its inhabitants. Lord Alexandras saw no need in attempting to forbid them to fight, if attacked, but they were not to initiate hostilities in future.
The moment formalities were completed, Lord Alexandras and his escort enhorsed for Lintchburk to begin preparations to move his camp and men to Theesispolis; as well as to dispatch certain trusted individuals to Kehnooryohs Atheenahs, Petropolis, Nohtohspolis, Lee-stispolis, and certain other ports and cities, to sound out the various elements of the population and place the word of Lord Alexandras’ imminent arrival in the proper ears. Within a fortnight of Lord Alexandras’ condottas’ appearance at Theesispolis, Milo had the chiefs pass the word to break camp. All spies were back and had made favorable reports, all conferences were completed, and it was time to begin the final advance.
20
As a gesture of good will, the Council of Chiefs agreed to free all their Ehleenoee captives before the march began. Freed men were given the choice of joining Lord Alexandras’ condottas or remaining at Theesispolis until the conclusion of the campaign; most chose the former. Freed women were given the choice of honorable marriage into a horseclan or simple freedom; very few chose to leave the camp. Children were given no option, they were simply adopted into the clans which had held them. As Lord Alexandras seemed quite pleased by this unasked favor, Milo saw no need to persuade the chiefs to make any further ‘reparations.’
Few slept in the camps around Green-Walls that night, hough all had been preparing for weeks, still were there tings which needed doing. The oxen which drew wagons and the huge, wheeled lodges of the chiefs, to be driven in and paired and yoked; war horses must be brought in and saddled and armored, then picketted in readiness; here, an axle was discovered to have developed a crack within the last week, and it had to be removed and replaced; there, slaves of the Cat Clan and a few nomad volunteers were seeking out strayed kittens and loading them into one of the several horse-drawn wagons which would convey them; between the new moon and the thousands of fires and torches, the camps were almost as bright as day and the light glinted from steel and leather and brass and silver, as the warriors armed; there was an almost steady thrruumm in the air, as men and maidens tested bowstrings, and the shrill rasp of blade on stone, as a last honing was imparted to the edges of saber or ax. An unending caravan of men and horses wended through the splintered city gates, to return with bulging water-skins, filled at the city’s fountains—though the country they were to travel through was well-watered, old habits were hard to break. The odors of cooking breakfasts mingled with those of smoke and dust and dung and sweat and wet hide and grease and tallow and resin.
Two hours prior to dawn, the drums and fifes and trumpets of Lord Alexandras’ army joined in the cacophony and, with the first rays of the sun, the seasoned Kahtahphraktoee trotted out of the castra followed by serried ranks of infantry, then the baggage. By the time the first of the nomads’ wagons lumbered onto the stones of the road, the condottas were two miles east: infantry stepping a mile-eating pace to the tireless beat of their drums; cavalry at van, rear, and flanks; and, ahead of all, a rough crescent of nomad riders fanned on either side of the highway; a little behind, Horsekiller and his clan.
Unaware that the old man had always detested such contrivances as effete and anachronistic, Milo had presented the late Lord Simos’ best chariot to Lord Alexandras. On the march, it rolled along midway the column, loaded with water-skins. Lord Alexandras, astride a fine, chestnut gelding, rode with the knot of mercenary officers, exchanging jests and rough banter and swapping yarns of shared campaigns in times past.
21
The tribe made nearly eight miles the first day and Milo and the chiefs felt pleased. But not so Lord Alexandras. Unannounced and unaccompanied, he galloped the chestnut up, slammed out of the saddle before the animal was fully halted, and stormed into Milo’s wagon-lodge a couple of hours after dusk.
Seated, cross-legged, around a bowl of wine on the thickly carpeted floor, were Milo, Mara, Blind Hari, Chief Hwil of Kuk, Chief Bili of Esmith, Chief Rahsz of Rahsz and Chief Djimi of Peerszuhn. Hari was flanked by Old-Cat and Mole-Fur, and Horsekiller crouched between Milo and Mara, now and then taking a surreptitious lap out of Milo’s cup (he had developed an unadmitted fondness for the resinous Ehleen wine).
Milo rose smiling. “Welcome, Lord Alexandras. Your presence honors my tent and our gathering.”
Exerting his iron control, the Strahteegohs forced himself to sit and accepted a cup of the wine (and the fact that it was part of the loot of Theesispolis, did nothing to improve his frame of mind).
Still smiling, Milo spoke. “All the clan smiths are hard at work, tonight, my lord. They will continue to be every night of the march, too. By the time we reach the vicinity of Kehnooryohs Atheenahs, I can promise you that each and every one of your peasants will be armed, after a fashion—even if it’s only with spear, shield, and helmet.” Lord Alexandras took a deep draught of the contents of his silver cup. In a tight, restrained voice, he asked, “And how many days do you think it will take this … this ‘column’ to reach our objective, Lord Milos?”
Though the old nobleman possessed a mind-shield which made the reading of his thoughts impossible, even for Milo or Mara, the very restraint in his tone betrayed the face of his anger. For the nonce, however, Milo chose to ignore it, going on in the same friendly, conversational tone.