The Ironhand's Daughter

Back inside his upper room, he stoked the fire and sat down on the rug staring into the flames.

The chairs were all too tall, and Ari had brought a wooden box to the room so that Ballistar could climb into bed. Why was I born like this? he wondered. What sin could a child be guilty of that a vengeful God would condemn him to a life such as this.

No one understood his torment. How could they? Even Sigarni had once said, 'Perhaps one day you will meet a beautiful dwarf woman and be happy.'

I don't want a dwarf woman, he thought. Just because I am deformed, it does not mean I will find deformity attractive in others.

I want you, Sigarni. I want you to love me, to see me as a man.

It won't happen. He remembered the taunts that marked his childhood and adolescence. Bakris Tooth-gone had once caused great merriment with a joke about Ballistar and his inability to find love.

'How could he make love to a woman?' Bakris had said. 'If they were nose to nose, he'd have his toes in it, toes to toes he'd have his nose in it, and if he ever got there he'd have no one to talk to.'

Oh yes, great roars of laughter had greeted the jest. Even Ballistar had chuckled. What other choice was there?

Ballistar left his room and wandered downstairs and out into the stable-yard. The little white pony was in her stall and the dwarf climbed to the rail by her head and stroked her neck. The pony swung her head and nuzzled him. 'Do you worry about being a dwarf horse?' he said. 'Do you look at the tall mares with envy?' The pony returned to munching the straw in her feed box. It was cold in the stable and Ballistar saw that the pony's blanket had slipped from her back. Climbing to the floor he retrieved it, and tried to flip it back into place. It was a large blanket and, as he tried to throw it high, it fell back over Ballistar's head. Three times he tried. On the last it was almost in place, but the pony moved to its right and the blanket fell to the left.

It was the final humiliation for Ballistar. Tears welled in his dark eyes, and he thought again of the high parapet. On the north side, at the base of the wall, there were sharp rocks. If I were to throw myself from the battlements I would die, he thought. No more pain, no more humiliation ...

Ballistar returned to the house and began to climb the stairs.

The servant-warrior, Ari, moved out of the library and saw him. 'Good morning, Ballistar.'

'Good morning,' mumbled the dwarf, continuing his climb.

'I was wondering if you could assist me.'

Ballistar hesitated, and glanced down through the stair rails at the tall black man.

'Not today,' he said.

'It is important,' said Ari softly. 'I am studying the maps of the Duane Pass, for that is where we believe the first battle will be fought. Do you know it?'

'I know it.'

'Good, then you will be of great assistance.' Ari turned away and re-entered the library.

Ballistar stood for a moment, then slowly climbed down the stairs and followed the man. Ari was sitting on the floor with maps all around him. A coal fire was burning in the hearth.

Ballistar slumped down beside the man. 'What do you need?' he asked.

'These woods here,' said Ari, pointing to a green section, 'are they thick and dense, or light and open?'

'Reasonably light. Firs, mostly. You thought to hide men there?'

'It was a possibility.'

Ballistar shook his head. 'Not possible. But there is a gully just beyond the woods where a force could be concealed. There!' he said, stabbing his index finger on the map. 'Now I will leave you.'

'Ah, but we have just begun,' said Ari, with a smile. 'Look at this.' He passed Ballistar a sketch and the dwarf took it. Upon it was an •outline of Duane Pass and a series of rectangles, some blacked in, others in various colours.

'What are these?'

'The classic Outland battle formation - infantry at the centre, the heavy black blocks. Two divisions. The blue represents the cavalry, the yellow archers and slingers. The cavalry also may be in two divisions, lightly armoured and heavily armoured. But this we do not yet know. Where would you place our forces?'

'I'm not a soldier!' snapped Ballistar.

'Indeed not, but you are a bright, intelligent man. Skills can be learned. Let me give you an example: Where would cavalry be of limited use?'

'In a forest,' answered Ballistar, 'where the trees and undergrowth would restrict a mounted man.'

'And what slows down infantry?'

'Hills, mountains, rivers. Forests again.'

'There, you see?' Ari told him. 'Having established that, then we look for ways to ensure that battles are fought where we desire them -in forests, on hills. So, where in Duane would you position our forces?'

Ballistar gazed at the map. 'There is only one good defensive point. There is a flat-topped hill at the northern end of the pass - but it would be surrounded swiftly.'

'Yes,' said Ari, 'it would. How many people could gather there?'

'I don't know. A thousand?'

'I would think two thousand,' said Ari. 'Which is our entire force.'

'What would be the point of such an action?' asked Ballistar. 'Once surrounded there would be no way to retreat, and even the advantage of occupying a hill would be overcome by an Outland army numbering more than five thousand men.'

'Yet it remains the only true defensive position,' insisted Ari. 'Once the Oudanders are through Duane Pass, diey can spread out and attack isolated hamlets and villages. Nodiing could stop them.'

'I don't know die answer,' Ballistar admitted.

'Nor I, but we will speak of it again. Tonight at dinner.' He looked direcdy into Ballistar's eyes. 'Or did you have odier plans?'

Ballistar took a deep breath. 'No, no odier plans.'

'That is good. I will see you later.'

'You really believe I can be of help in diis?' asked Ballistar, struggling to his feet.

'Of course. Take die sketches with you, and think about diem.'

Ballistar smiled. 'I will, Ari. Thank you.'

The black man shrugged and returned to his studies.

CHAPTER XI

'BY GOD, SHE'S some woman,' said Obrin, peeling off his jerkin and sitting by the fire. 'They fell just like she said they would. Like skittles! I could scarce believe it, Fell. When I rode up to that Farlain fort my heart was in my mouth. The officer just ordered the gates opened, listened to my report, then turned over command to me and rode out. What a moment! I even told him the best route through the snow, and he rode his men into Grame's trap.'

'Grame lost no men in that first encounter, yet more than twenty when the Pallides detachment was ambushed,' said Fell.

'That's nothing compared with the two hundred we slew in those engagements,' pointed out Obrin.

'But it's a damn shame the men from the Loda fort escaped. I still don't know what went wrong there.'

'They simply got lost,' said Fell, 'and missed the trap. No one's fault.'

Obrin reached for a pottery jug and pulled the cork. 'The Baron's wine,' he said, with a dry chuckle. 'There were six jugs in each fort. It's a good vintage - try some.'

Fell shook his head. 'I think I'll take a walk,' he said.

'What's wrong, Fell?'

'Nothing. I just need to walk.'

Obrin replaced the cork and looked hard at the handsome forester. 'I'm not the most intuitive of men, Fell. But I've been a sergeant for twelve years and I know when something is eating at a man.

What is it? Fear? Apprehension?'

Fell smiled wearily. 'Is it so obvious then?'

'It is to me, but your men must not see it. That is one of the secrets of leadership, Fell. Your confidence becomes their confidence. They feed off you, like wolf cubs suckling at the mother's teats. If you despair, they despair.'