Sapristi saw him looking at it and walked over to join him.
'They're not pretty,' he said. 'But they work. And they're easy and quick to make. In fact, the soldiers can make their own, at a pinch. We can turn out thousands of these in a week. And you've seen how effective they can be.' He indicated the rows of smashed and splintered targets.
'It's bent,' Will said critically, running his hand along the distorted iron head.
'And it can be straightened easily and used again,' the general told him. 'But that's actually an advantage. Imagine one of these hitting an enemy's shield. It penetrates, and the barb holds it in place. Then the head bends, so that the handle is dragging on the ground. Try fighting effectively with nearly two metres of iron and wood dragging from your shield. I assure you, it's not an easy thing to do.'
Will shook his head admiringly. 'It's all very practical, isn't it?'
'It's a logical solution to the problem of creating a large and effective fighting force,' Sapristi told him. 'If you pitted any of these legionnaires in a one-on-one battle against a professional warrior, they would probably lose. But give me a hundred unskilled men to drill for six months and I'll back them against an equal number of warriors who've been training in individual combat skills all their lives.'
'So it's the system that's successful, not the individual?' Will said.
'Exactly,' Sapristi told him. 'And so far, nobody has come up with a way to defeat our system in open battle.'
'How would you do it?' Halt asked Selethen that night. The negotiations had been finalised, agreed, signed and witnessed. There had been an official banquet to celebrate the fact, with speeches and compliments on all sides. Now Selethen and the Araluan party were relaxing in the Araluans' quarters. It would be their last night together as the Wakir was due to leave early the following morning. Selethen had brought some of the trade gift kafay with him and he, Will and Halt were all savouring the brew. Nobody, Will thought, made coffee quite as well as the Arridi.
Alyss sat by the fireplace, smiling at the three of them. She liked coffee, but for Rangers, and apparently the Arridi, coffee drinking was close to a religious experience. She contented herself with a goblet of fresh, citrus-tasting sherbet.
'Simple,' said Selethen. 'Never let them choose the conditions. As Sapristi said, they've never been defeated in open battle. So you need fight a more fluid action against them. Catch them when they're on the move and in file. Hit them on the flanks with quick raids, before they can go into their defensive formation. Or use artillery against them. That rigid formation makes for a very compact target. Hit it with heavy bolts from a mangonel or rocks from catapults and you'd start to punch holes in it. Once it loses cohesion, it's not so formidable.'
Halt was nodding. 'I was thinking the same,' he said. 'Never confront them head-on. If you could get a force of archers behind them without their realising it, their tortoise formation would be vulnerable.
'But of course,' he continued, 'they rely on their enemies' sense of outrage when they invade a country. Very few armies will have the patience to carry out a running battle, harassing and weakening them over a period. Very few leaders would be able to convince their followers that this was the best way. National pride would force most to confront them, to try to force them back across the border.'
'And we saw what happens when you confront them,' Will said. 'Those javelins were effective.' Both the older men nodded.
'Limited range, however,' Selethen said. 'No more than thirty or forty metres.'
'But quite deadly at that range,' Halt said, agreeing with Will.
'It seems to me,' said Alyss cheerfully, 'that the best course to take would be one of negotiation. Negotiate with them rather than fight them. Use diplomacy, not weapons.'
'Spoken like a true diplomat,' Halt said, giving her one of his rare smiles. He was fond of Alyss, and her bond with Will made him even more inclined to like her. She bowed her head in mock modesty. 'But what if diplomacy fails?'
Alyss rose to the challenge without hesitation. 'Then you can always resort to bribery,' she said. 'A little gold in the right hands can accomplish more than a forest of swords.' Her eyes twinkled as she said it.
Selethen shook his head in admiration. 'Your Araluan women would fit in well in my country,' he said. 'Lady Alyss's grasp of the skills of negotiation is first class.'
'I recall you weren't quite so enthusiastic about Princess Evanlyn's negotiating skills,' Halt said.
'I have to admit I met my match there,' he said ruefully. In his previous encounter with Araluans, he had tried to bamboozle Evanlyn in their haggling over a ransom payment for Oberjarl Erak. The princess had remained totally un-bamboozled and had very neatly outwitted him.
Alyss frowned slightly at the mention of Evanlyn's name. She was not one of the princess's greatest admirers. However, she recovered quickly and smiled again.
'Women are good negotiators,' she said. 'We prefer to leave all the sweaty, unpleasant details of battle to people like your -'
She was interrupted by a discreet knock at the door. Since this was a diplomatic mission, she was in fact the leader of the Araluan party. 'Come in,' she called in reply, then added in a lower voice to the others, 'I wonder what's happened? After all, it's a little late for callers.'
The door opened to admit one of her servants. The man glanced nervously around. He realised he was interrupting a conversation between the head of the mission, two Rangers and the most high-ranking representative of the Arridi party.
'My apologies for interrupting, Lady Alyss,' he began uncertainly.
She reassured him with a wave of her hand. 'It's perfectly all right, Edmund. I assume it's important?'
The servant swallowed nervously. 'You could say so, my lady. The Crown Princess Cassandra has arrived and she wants to see you all.'
Nihon-Ja The wind had picked up since they had left the Emperor's summer lodge the previous day. Now it was keening through the valley as they rode carefully down the narrow track that angled down one side, and gusting strongly as it was funnelled between the constricting hills that formed the valley. The trees around them seemed to have adopted a permanent lean to one side, so constant was the force of the wind. Horace pulled his sheepskin collar a little higher around his ears and nestled gratefully into its warm depths.
He glanced up. The sky was a brilliant ice blue, but already heavy grey clouds were scudding across it, sending bands of shadow flitting silently across the landscape below. To the south, he could see a dark line of solid cloud. He estimated that it would be upon them by early afternoon and it would probably bring rain with it. He considered suggesting that they might make camp for the day before the rain added its force to the wind. There was no need to rush their journey – the port of Iwanai was within easy riding distance – and he didn't relish the idea of pitching tents in a driving rainstorm. Better to get them up while the party was still dry and shelter inside them through the deteriorating weather.
The trail they were following levelled and widened for a hundred metres or so, so Horace urged his horse alongside that of the Emperor, who was riding immediately before him. Shigeru, huddled deep in his own fur robes, sensed the presence beside him and looked around. He grimaced at the racing clouds overhead and gave a small shrug.
Horace pulled his collar down to speak, feeling the icy bite of the wind on his face as he did so.