Demontech: Onslaught (39 page)

Read Demontech: Onslaught Online

Authors: David Sherman

As soon as all the men were patched up, Silent mounted them on horses, including the prisoner, whose arms as well as wounds were bound. He scooped up a couple of massive handfuls of Jokapcul weapons and equipment, including the magician’s kit, and tied them onto his huge steed. The women could walk the short distance they were going, he told them, and then led them on foot several hundred paces upstream in the rocky channel. He carried Wolf curled babelike in the crook of his arm.

“We need the water,” Silent explained about his chosen campsite. “And we need to be upstream of the bodies so they don’t contaminate it for us. And if we don’t get careless, it’ll be harder to track us.”

The place Silent found, at a sharp bend in the stream, was easily defensible. The bend’s inner side had a hundred or more paces of open ground, so they had clear fields of fire to rain arrows and quarrels onto anyone attacking from that direction. A high, overhanging bank on the outer side of the bend effectively concealed them from anyone passing in that direction. At the foot of the high bank was a shelf of flat ground wide enough to camp on. At the end of the shelf a strong eddy had cut a deep pool they could use for bathing.

“When we parted, I said we’d meet again,” Haft said.

“You did,” Silent agreed. He looked at the group, his eyes lingering briefly on the women. “There’s more of you than the last time we met. You’ve even found yourselves a wolf. I imagine you’ve had an adventure or two.”

“We have, and we’ll tell you about it,” Spinner said. “But first, how did you come to be where you could rescue us? What happened at the border station? Where did you get that horse?” His voice was filled with awe when he asked the last question.

“Slower,” Silent said, raising a hand against more questions. “That’s many questions, not one. Ask only one at a time. First I’ll tell you what happened after you left.” He cleared his throat and settled back to tell his tale.

“As soon as the evening meal was finished, just after you left us, Sergeant Pilco had his men finish building what defensive redoubts they could, then stationed his men in them in case the Jokaps decided to attack immediately after they arrived. Except for me. Me, he placed in the trees behind the cottages, where I was out of sight. Well, shortly before dusk, two companies of Jokapcul, one cavalry and one infantry, showed up, just as we’d been warned. That first night they ignored us. But their officers had them hopping to, making camp and burying the men we’d killed.” He chuckled. “They kept their distance from that dead gray tabur, though. As badly chewed as it was by the imps, they still seemed afraid of it.

“Come dawn, Sergeant Pilco had his squad lined up at the gate.” He shook his head. “I never saw those Skraggers looking so military as that morning. Anyway, I kept out of sight. The Jokap officer in command marched up to the gate big as you please, with an honor guard carrying those flags of theirs that flop down from a cross piece at the top of the flagstaff, and demanded to speak to the Skragish commanding officer. He had a lot of barks and growls in his speech, which made him a little hard to understand, but by and large he spoke passable Skragish. Not as good as mine, of course, but good enough to understand. Sergeant Pilco said he was in command. The Jokap officer looked down his nose like the sergeant was a bug in his soup, which is a neat trick considering that Sergeant Pilco stood head and shoulders taller than that Jokap. The Jokap told Pilco that he would only talk to an officer, not a sergeant, and Pilco told him there was no officer, he was the commander of that post. The Jokap ignored him after that, acted just like he wasn’t there.

“That plumed dandy looked all around the Skragish side of the border like he was looking at an overused midden, then said since there was no officer in command there, it looked like he was in charge of the border. Then he turned to his own men and started barking and growling, and a platoon of cavalry formed on the gate while a couple of infantrymen opened it. Sergeant Pilco objected and ordered one of his men to close the gate. The man tried, but before the man got to it, the cavalry platoon came charging through and ran him right down. Killed him.

“A battle started. I’ll tell you, those Skraggers put up one hellacious fight. I’ve never seen anyone—except my own tribesmen, of course—fight so fierce. But they were outnumbered too bad. I came charging out as soon as it started, but there just wasn’t enough of me to save Sergeant Pilco and his men. I did my best to avenge them, but those Jokaps, they must’ve been scared of me, because every time I got close to any of them, they flat broke and ran away. We wound up with what you might call a stalemate. I stood at the gate keeping most of them on the Bostian side. The ones who’d already crossed over kept their distance from me, but that didn’t stop them finding everybody else who was there and killing them.” He spat in disgust.

He shook himself and continued. “The Jokaps had a magician with them. He had a demon spitter like as I never saw before. Looked like that one there.” He indicated the one the Zobran magician had used. “That thing punched a hole right through my shield and burned a line on my shoulder.” He held up the shield, on which a patch was evident. He bared his shoulder to show the scar. “That’s when I decided the Skraggers were beyond needing me to avenge them. So I left.”

“How did you happen to come this way?” Spinner asked.

“And where’d you find that monster horse?” Haft put in.

Silent laughed. “You mean that pony? I had him out to pasture when you were there, that’s why you never saw him. For coming here, well, there’s a big world to see out there, and I’ve never been to Zobra.” His eyes twinkled as he added, “I knew that’s where you were headed, and thought I might find you before you found yourselves a ship.

“Right off that last morning, before the sun came up, another imbaluris came with a message for Sergeant Pilco. It said Jokaps were attacking Oskul. I didn’t see much point in heading there. I decided to go cross-country, thought it would be safer than the roads if Jokaps were around. And one man traveling alone cross-country can go at least as fast as two men following a road.” He nodded toward the others. “And much faster than a group. Yesterday I came across the tracks of that Jokap bunch that jumped you and decided to follow them, see where they were going and what they were up to.

“I caught up with them just in time.

“That’s about all there is for my story. There’s a big world to see, and I’m going to see as much of it as I can. I’d like to see it in the company of some folks as might know where we’re going, if you don’t mind—folks whose company I enjoy.” His eyes flicked briefly at the Golden Girl and an eyebrow popped up for an instant.

“You want to travel with us?” Haft blurted. “We could show you a lot of the world, we’ve been around it several times. Right, Spinner?” He thought of how much help the giant would be if they had to fight again. If? He was sure they would have to do more fighting before they found their way on board an eastbound ship.

Spinner scowled at him. “Right,” he said grumpily. He had opened his mouth to formally welcome Silent into their small band and was miffed that Haft spoke first.

“Good! Now that that’s settled, tell me about your adventures.”

Spinner and Haft took turns telling Silent about The Burnt Man, the slavers, the Jokapcul slavemaster, and what they did about it.

“I’d purely love to see that woman dance,” Silent said, looking at the Golden Girl when Haft described her performance and Spinner’s reaction to it. “Small as she is, she must truly be a wonder to watch.” He didn’t look away when Alyline glared at him, but he added with a smile, “When she feels like dancing, that is.

“Glad you were that bright,” Silent said when Spinner told about letting Wolf join them. “Some wolves—not many, mind you—can be real good companions for men on the move. He looks like a good one.”

Wolf made a noise high in his throat and crawled close to the giant. Silent raised an eyebrow; the wolf seemed to understand what he said. Silent put a giant hand on the wolf’s side and rubbed briskly. Wolf rumbled low in his throat, something like a cat purring.

When their tales reached the point where Silent charged to the rescue, the three men sat quietly for a few moments.

“Time to question the prisoner,” Spinner finally said.

They went to where the prisoner lay on his side, his arms and legs bound and his mouth gagged. They removed the gag and sat the prisoner against the bank. Spinner squatted in front of the prisoner, with Haft on one side and Silent on the other. The three women arrayed themselves behind the men; Fletcher stood aside as sentry, watching for anyone approaching the stream bend. The magician hovered behind the women.

“Where was your company going?” Spinner asked in Frangerian.

The prisoner scowled at him and didn’t speak.

“What was your mission?”

Still no answer.

“Are other Jokapcul units in this area?”

Continued silence.

Spinner stared hard at the man for a moment, then tried again in Bostian. No reply. The prisoner continued his silence when Spinner spoke to him in Apianghian.

“Where were you going?” Haft demanded in Ewsarcan. He tried a couple of other languages, all to no avail.

Silent questioned him in Skragish and in his own nomad language. The magician spoke to him in Zobran. One by one each of the eight people attempted to question the prisoner in each of the languages he or she spoke. The magician rooted through the captured magic kit again, and was disappointed at not finding any demons in it that he could use to make the prisoner talk, or that could translate between Jokapcul and another language.

By the time they were finished trying to question him, they had spoken in more than twenty languages. Not once did the Jokapcul soldier give any hint that he understood a word.

“Now what?” Spinner asked the others; he reverted to Frangerian, the one language most of them had in common. Doli translated for Zweepee, Haft did the same for Silent. “We have a prisoner we can’t take care of. We can’t talk to him because we don’t have a language in common, so he can’t give us any information, or give us his parole.”

Haft leaned close to the prisoner and said harshly into his ear, “Then we have to kill him.”

The prisoner didn’t even flinch.

“We stake him out and see if thirst or the vultures kill him first,” Haft said, again harshly into the man’s ear. He might as well have commented mildly on the weather.

Silent settled back in momentary thought, then said in Ewsarcan, which Haft translated for the others, “The Jokaps slaughtered the Skragers at the border. I saw that with my own eyes. Stories I’ve heard tell me they massacre people wherever they go.”

Spinner nodded. “We saw them hanging prisoners in New Bally. They simply killed men who were unarmed, unresisting, and under their control.”

“The slavemaster at The Burnt Man was a Jokapcul,” Zweepee said.

Haft looked around at the others. “Then we are agreed, he must die?”

They were.

Spinner remained squatting, staring at his hands. The idea of killing an unarmed man, a prisoner, was repellent to him. He didn’t want to do it, but it was something he couldn’t ask someone else to do for him. If he was in command of the group—and he knew they were all looking at him for leadership—killing the prisoner was his responsibility. He had to do it. With a sigh, he stood and looked about for a sword he could use to execute the prisoner.

“I think we should give him to the women,” Silent suddenly said in Skragish.

“What?”

“Give him to the women,” Silent repeated. “In the olden days, my people handed their prisoners over to the women.” He grinned. “No warrior wanted to be captured by the Tangonine people because of that; what the women did was worse than anything a man would do.”

The prisoner’s eyes opened a fraction and flitted about, then closed back to the same still slits they had been.

“He understood that,” Alyline said. “He speaks Skragish. Give him to me. I’ll get him to talk. Tie him down, spread-eagle.”

Spinner looked at her, shocked at the viciousness in her voice. Haft and Fletcher exchanged a look. Doli looked away. Zweepee stared at her. The magician studied his fingernails. The prisoner’s eyes briefly flicked about again. Silent moved to do what she said. In a moment the Jokapcul soldier was supine, his arms stretched to the sides. Leather cords bound his wrists to stakes pounded into the ground, and his ankles were similarly bound to other stakes. The prisoner sneered at his captors.

“What are you going to do?” Spinner croaked.

Alyline was expressionless. “Get information.” She looked each man in the eye. “Do not interfere. I know what I’m doing.”

They looked at her; no one spoke.

“Zweepee, Doli, join me.” She stood straddling the prisoner. Zweepee immediately came and stood next to the prisoner’s chest. Doli hesitated a moment, then joined the other women and stood facing Zweepee across the prisoner’s body.

Without looking at them, Alyline said to the men, “I think you should go away.”

The men glanced at each other but did as she said.

As soon as the men left, Alyline smiled sweetly down at the prisoner. “You will talk,” she said to him. “You will tell me everything I want to know.” Slowly, sensuously, she lowered herself until she was squatting on his groin. She leaned forward, placed her hands on the ground next to his head and lowered herself until her breasts pressed into his chest and her face nearly touched his. She whispered words the other women couldn’t hear. The prisoner growled and bit at her nose, but his teeth snapped closed on air—she moved out of his reach faster than anyone could see.

Still smiling, she lowered her face again and whispered more words. Again his teeth snapped closed where she had been. This time a trickle of blood appeared in the corner of his mouth; he had bitten his tongue. The Golden Girl sat up and, still smiling, slapped him hard. Red sprayed from his mouth and nose as his head jerked with the strength of the blow.

Zweepee dropped to her knees and whispered into his ear. After a hesitation, Doli also knelt and spoke into the prisoner’s other ear. Sweat beaded on his face. The Golden Girl drew her golden dagger and held it so the sun sparkled off its blade and flashed into his eyes. Zweepee did the same with her dagger. Doli hesitated less than before and also drew her blade, reflecting sunlight into the prisoner’s face.

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