“Then we will stop them!” Aulutiz promised.
There were cries of agreement and a few of the vampires brandished knives and daggers to show their determination.
“These soldiers are armed,” said San-Ragoz. ”And they are trained to fight.”
“Not such as we,” Aulutiz boasted, looking around for nods of agreement. ”No one knows how to fight us.”
“There are many who do,” said San-Ragoz, thinking of the people of his homeland, and of western China, who had long kept vampires at bay. “Your living neighbors will learn soon enough. You do not want to teach the Caliph’s men how to best you; they are formidable enemies.”
“Then we will kill them all,” said Aulutiz, and earned a cry of support. “We will wound them enough to make them unable to fight, then we will fall upon them. We will
feast
!”
Chimenae raised her hands for quiet. “We shall decide that after we have a look at their camp. Nothing can be decided until then. If they are isolated enough, we can make them disappear completely.”
“And the Caliph’s soldiers will wreck havoc on everyone in this part of the mountains to revenge the loss of their troops,” said San-Ragoz.
“If they can find us,” said Achona, smiling at Aulutiz. “The villagers will take the brunt of it.”
“And where will your two-legged goats come from, or your cups of blood, if the Caliph’s soldiers have killed half and enslaved the rest?” San-Ragoz inquired with exaggerated politeness. “You have lived on the help of the villagers, but the attack of Moorish soldiers could end all that.”
“We will find them when they come. We will protect the villagers and they will be more devoted to us than ever,” said Aulutiz. “Will we not?”
“If I decide it is the wisest thing to do,” said Chimenae with a warning glance at her son.
San-Ragoz felt himself running out of patience. “The soldiers hunt in daylight. If they find you, you will not be able to stand against them. They may not know how to fight those who are undead, but a scimitar can behead a vampire as easily as a living man, and a lance will break your spine. Do not expect the people of the region to interfere; the living people will do nothing to save you—why should they?”
“Because we can help them; we leave game for them and keep away robbers,” said Chimenae. “They know where their loyalty is due.” She pointed to Edic. “You will go with the clan to watch the camp, and to send back an assessment to me. Have Dorioz”—she indicated the youngest-looking of the clan—“carry your report. He will do what I require.”
“Do you think it is wise to use a child?” Aulutiz asked, paying no attention to the cry of protestation Dorioz gave.
“A
seeming-
child,” Chimenae corrected him. “He has been one of us for more than forty years, and has proven himself many times. He runs as fast as most of you, and he can slip through the forest almost invisibly. He can outrun even horses over steep ground. If they should see him, why would the Caliph’s men stop him? He is nothing to them, less than a goatherd or a woodsman. No soldier would think a boy would be one of our number, or a messenger. They will ignore him.” She was satisfied with her decision and wanted no contradiction to her strategy.
“All right,” said Aulutiz, not quite sulking. “But it will be for us to decide if we must act quickly. If the soldiers become aware of us, we will strike, whether or not you have sent word of what you want.”
There was a very short pause before Chimenae responded. ”You may act if the circumstances demand it, but
only
if they demand it.”
Aulutiz clapped his hands. “Well enough. We will do as you wish.” He managed his most persuasive smile. ”It might be as well to attack tonight, before the Moors can learn more. It would not be too difficult to arrange our assault before we go to spy on the soldiers.”
San-Ragoz shook his head slowly, hoping none of the clan was watching. He was keenly aware of the contest taking place between Chimenae and Aulutiz, and wondered how long it would be before their contention became something more, for surely it would escalate as Chimenae brought more vampires into their life and their tribe. The trouble between mother and son was deep and it touched all those in the tribe. He stepped forward. “You will be wise to be careful around the soldiers. These are not farmers and woodsmen, who have no will for fighting. These soldiers have been in battle before and have their senses honed to guard them; they have learned to delight in war. You will put them on their vigilance if you press your watch of them. Once they know they are observed, they will take action; they will respond promptly, and severely.”
“You are afraid of them?” Aulutiz asked, at once shocked and amused. “Do you credit them with so much because you are frightened?”
“Anyone who has seen them fight is afraid,” said San-Ragoz. “Or he is a fool.”
Aulutiz shook his head. “You say this, to explain your fear,” he declared. “We are not so craven.”
“I do not think any of you are craven. I do think you are impetuous, and that it is dangerous to be so in the face of this opponent.” San-Ragoz went up to Aulutiz. “You have not seen these men fight. I have.”
“I have seen the soldiers of the Gardingi, before the Moors came, and I have seen them defeated by simple ruses. Now the Moors are here why should their soldiers be any different?” Aulutiz faced him arrogantly. “We will fight to win—I will see to that.”
“These soldiers believe that if they kill an enemy who does not share their faith, that enemy will be their slave in Paradise,” said San-Ragoz very deliberately. “No Gardingio had such convictions.”
Aulutiz laughed, and the rest laughed with him, except Chimenae, who spoke sharply to her son. “You would do well to listen to this man. It is true he is not one of us, but he is a vampire, and he has seen many things; among those things, he has seen the Caliph’s soldiers fight and you have not. He can tell you what you need to know to hold your own against the Moors. You should learn as much as you can, for I want none of my blood to suffer because of what you face for being of my blood.”
In that moment, San-Ragoz admired her; some of his apprehension diminished and he said, “These warriors are sworn to the son of the Emir, who is the Emir’s deputy in this land. They are his personal troops, particularly chosen for their loyalty and their fierceness in battle. They have much to gain in conquering you and more than life to lose if they do not acquit themselves well fighting in his name. Do not underestimate them, or their devotion to the Emir’s son.” He paused, sensing the animosity that was he roused among Chimenae’s tribe. “If they once identify you for what you are, they will pursue you until you are gone from here, either by flight or by the True Death.”
“Who are you to say this to us?” asked Achona, her voice ringing, holding the attention of her clan-members. “You could be set on bringing us all to the True Death so that no one will be able to hunt here but you.”
“I would not do that.” San-Ragoz’s voice was steady and his dark eyes met Achona’s with a conviction that was all but palpable.
“Why not?” She looked from him to Chimenae and back again. “She will not deny you. She is blinded to your trickery.”
“I employ no trickery, and I mean you no harm,” said San-Ragoz as calmly as he could. “Neither would promote my cause with you.”
“No, they would not. So perhaps you should lead us in battle, to show your allegiance to this clan.” The challenger was Achona’s companion Tamosh.
There were cries of support as well as accusations. Edic held up his hand. “I was the Fifth of the First Ten of Chimenae’s tribe, and I had been the Captain of Gardingio Theudis when the Gardingio was too infirm to lead his men. I know how to fight. I will stand beside Aulutiz, not this outsider.”
“Yes!” shouted one of the others. “Edic can lead us.”
“Edic! Edic!” A few took up the cry while Edic stood, looking at once gratified and chagrined, for he knew Chimenae would not like this.
“No!” Aulutiz silenced the rest with an emphatic yell. “No,” he repeated when the tribe was quiet. “I will lead you. I.” He waited for objections; when none came, he said. “Edic is not the First—I am. It is only right that I should lead.”
“Why is it right?” Edic asked, his manner pugnacious. “You have no experience.”
“Nor have you, against these men if what Sanct’ Germain says is accurate.” Aulutiz glowered at Edic. “I will not disdain your skill and experience. You shall fight at my right hand. That will make it possible for our front to be as strong as the soldiers. Edic and I will bear the brunt of the attack. Will you agree, Matra?”
Chimenae shook her head. “You will do as you must do. We cannot let these soldiers find this place, and if the only way to prevent that is to kill them, then see it is done quickly and their bodies beheaded and hidden. There must be nothing left to find while they can be identified. Let the wild animals scatter their bones.” She glanced at San-Ragoz. “Will you go with them, to show them the camp, or must they find it on their own?”
Before San-Ragoz could answer, Aulutiz said, “He will guide us, but he will not join us in the fight. Unlike Edic, I do not trust him to hold a weapon. And if he fails to bring us to the place we seek, we will know how to deal with him.”
“What’s one more beheaded corpse?” laughed Achona, stepping up to Aulutiz’s side. “You are right, Aulutiz,” she said, deliberately looking at Chimenae as she spoke. “If this stranger does not do as he claims he will, we shall be rid of him.”
“And that shall make us stronger in the mountains,” Aulutiz went on. “When the villagers learn that we have killed the Moors, they will look to us to guard them and keep them safe from the invaders.” He was almost strutting now, as if he had already accomplished what he intended to do. “No one will question our authority then. No one.”
San Ragoz remained silent.
Tamosh raised his hand in a show of endorsement. “Aulutiz is right. This outsider will prove himself or he will suffer the same fate as the Moors will.”
“It is true,” said Achona. “The outsider must prove himself, or we will see he dies the True Death.” She put her hand on the hilt of her short sword; the weapon had not been well-cared-for, and its pitted blade revealed its age and neglect.
“That will not do well against the Moors,” San-Ragoz warned. “They fight with the keenest steel to be had. Unless you have an equally strong blade, yours will break at the first clash with one of theirs.” There were better blades in China, and the islands beyond, but that meant nothing to these eager vampires; he kept this reflection to himself. “If you plan to use that sword, you will fare badly.”
Achona shook her head. “All I need to do is stun one of the men while he sleeps; no Moor will be able to draw a sword when we attack.”
“It will be late at night, with only owls to witness. We will fight wisely, Matra,” said Aulutiz, beaming at Chimenae.
“Very good, my son,” Chimenae approved with a swift glance in San-Ragoz’s direction. “You will be careful, I know.”
“If I am not, I will pay the price,” he said, and stood still while the tribe around him cheered him. “Now then, where is Dorioz?” Catching sight of the youth, he signaled the lad to come to him. “Do you understand what you must do?”
“I must bring word to your mother when you have attacked the Moors,” he said at once, and although it was not the task Chimenae had described for him, Aulutiz laid his hand on Dorioz’s shoulder.
“Excellent. Are you prepared to come with me, and my company, now?” He held up his hand as he faced Chimenae. “You will endorse this, will you not?”
“If you must attack, then do it quickly, and make the most of your opportunity. No half-measures here.” In a histrionic gesture, she put her hands to her eyes. “I do not want to lose any of you.”
“Nor do we want to be lost,” said Aulutiz with a crow of laughter. “You.” He pointed to San-Ragoz. “You will come with Edic and me. Achona and Tamosh will follow after with six of our number. Then another six will come. The last six will fan out in the forest to detain anyone who might have seen us attack, or to capture any Moor seeking to escape. No one is to get away from this night’s work.” He clapped. “Will that suit you. Founder of our Clan?” It was a title that Chimenae had assumed sixty years ago, and all of the tribe recognized the homage it conveyed.
Chimenae walked up to her son, moving deliberately. “Only if no one of our number is harmed by it. If anyone should fall or be hurt, you will answer to me.”
“Of course,” said Aulutiz. “You will see: we will triumph.” He motioned to San-Ragoz. “Come. We must be on our way. Achona, you come after us when the moon has risen above the Ram’s Head Peak. The others will come when the last lights are extinguished in the houses of Mont Calcius.”
“Very good,” said Chimenae, raising her arms in the ritual dismissal San-Ragoz had seen the night before. She stopped suddenly. “I fear Sanct’ Germain is right—you cannot fight the soldiers without taking losses. They will not be driven away by a single rush at their camp. Once roused, you will have no chance to avoid hurt. So you will do as I order you. When you attack, stun the soldiers. You know how to give a blow to the head which renders the one struck unconscious. You may have one or two die, but most will live, but will be silent, and unresisting. Take your clubs to do the work. Behead them after you have slaked your thirst.”
A few of the men made cries of disappointment, but most looked relieved as Chimenae finished the sign for dismissal. This time the clan did not all depart, although some of the group hurried away down the slopes; others gathered around Achona and Edic, preparing to seek out the Moors’ camp.
“You will show us the way,” said Aulutiz, plucking San-Ragoz by the torn sleeve.
“Yes.” Edic looked more determined but less eager than Aulutiz. “And remember: we know these mountains far better than you do. We will know if you seek to mislead us.” He looked in Chimenae’s direction. “A blow to the head could repay your treachery.”
San-Ragoz concealed his unsettled emotions, saying only, “It may be best if I describe the place, and let you decide how best to approach it. With the Moors coming into the mountains, I am no longer familiar with this region and you may know better ways than the one I came.” He had not felt so much at a loss for more than two millennia and it perturbed him.