Tal had asked around discreetly for information on the coming conflicts. There was already fighting in the High Reaches, for Olasko had made his move there, but the mercenary bands who normally flocked to such conflicts were conspicuously absent.
The man on the floor was named Zemos, and he had been willing to talk to Tal for a price, assuming that he was a mercenary looking for employment. Zemos was, according to several barkeepers, a broker of sorts who could find a man a billet with a mercenary band for the right price. But as soon as Raven's name had come up, Zemos had appeared to forget everything he had ever known about the mercenary trade.
Tal had decided to stimulate his memory.
"Still assaulting people, I see," said a voice from the end of the bar.
Tal glanced over and saw a face which looked vaguely familiar to him, and it took a moment for him to recognize it. "John Creed," he said with a nod at last. "Only when they suddenly forget information I've paid for."
Zemos said, "I'll give you back your gold. I thought you were just looking for a billet."
Creed came to stand beside Tal. "Forgive me, but I can't say as I recall the name."
"Tal Hawkins."
For an instant, there was a flicker of recognition, then he nodded. "You're getting nowhere fast with this fool." He gave Zemos a nudge with his boot and said, "Get up, man."
When Zemos was upright, Creed said, "Give the lad back his gold, and don't make promises you can't keep."
The gold was returned and Zemos hurried from the inn, nursing his split lip. Creed looked around the room. "Why don't we go for a walk and find a better inn?" Tal nodded and followed him outside. "What happened to that fellow you were travelling with, the one who tripped you with a chair to prevent me from killing you?" Creed asked, grinning.
"Why?"
"Because I should thank him. I didn't make the connection until just now, but you're the lad who won at the Masters' Court last summer ago, aren't you?"
Tal nodded. "I didn't realize that sort of news travelled this far."
"Oh, it does, my young champion." Creed said, "So I think maybe your friend deserves my thanks, because if you're that good, you might have done a fair job of carving me up."
Tal grinned. "I had a lot of practice between our first meeting and winning that contest. You probably would have skewered me in the first minute."
"Would have tried, anyway, and that would have been a shame. Anyway, what are you doing looking for that swine Raven?"
"We have business," said Tal.
"The killing kind, no doubt."
"Yes."
They walked down the street and Creed said, "Rumour is he's got a camp outside of Coastal Watch and is getting ready to move north in a few weeks."
"He's going to start burning Orodon villages," said Tal. "The same business he did years ago with the Orosini."
"Nasty stuff, that," said Creed. "I don't mind fighting for my pay, and I certainly have no problems gutting a man who's holding a sword, but killing women and children is not something I'll be party to. Lot of lads feel the same way, so Raven's paying top price for swords. But there's something strange going on."
"What?"
"Zemos and the others who usually are eager to get you to a mercenary captain to claim their bounty, well, they're not doing business as usual."
"What do you mean by that?" They reached another inn and gesturing with his chin, Creed indicated they should enter.
It was quiet inside with barely half a dozen seated at the tables, engaged in low conversation. One nodded at Creed who returned the greeting. He and Tal pulled out chairs and sat down. "What I mean is that suddenly no one knows where Raven's camp is, or the camps of a couple of other companies who are probably working for Olasko."
"People know Kaspar is behind this?"
"If you kill people for a living, you sort of want to know who's paying you," said Creed. "Raven's not going to get good swords on promises of bounty. Those hill-people and fishermen don't have a lot of valuables to loot. Raven's got to make guarantees, and the men have to know where the gold is coming from, so that they know they won't find promises unmet at the end of a campaign." He paused and scanned the place for a moment.
"Fact is," Creel continued after a while, "some of the lads are hoping the other side shows up and starts recruiting."
"Other side?"
"The Orodon. They aren't a rich people, but they've got some gold and other goods to trade."
Tal signalled to the barman to bring them two ales. "Why would you want to face an invading army?"
"Won't be an army," said Creed. He leaned forward and put his elbows on the table. His shaggy light brown hair hung down over his eyes, giving him a hooded look. "It'll be two, maybe three, mercenary companies. They'll be hitting villages all up and down the coast, and counting on surprise and getting in and doing their dirty work before word spreads."
Tal nodded. That was exactly how they had done it when they wiped out the Orosini villages. He said, "So if one village is ready for Raven and his men, and can hold them, the entire campaign could fall apart?"
"Exactly. One good fight, and if you win, Kaspar's got to rethink his entire approach to the Orodon. Maybe negotiate with them so they leave his flank alone as he conquers High Reaches. I know he doesn't want to fight on two fronts-no general does."
Talon nodded. "What do you need in order to put together a company?"
"Me?" Creed smiled. "I'm no captain. I can recruit lads, have fifty for you in a week, but I can't lead. Why?"
"I'm thinking that it might be a smart move to put together a company and ride up to the Orodon border and see if we can make a deal."
"We?"
"Sure. I'm looking for Raven because I mean to have his guts on a stick, and I'd just as soon do it in a stand-up fight as stalk him through the woods, avoiding his mercenaries."
"You're talking about cracking a very tough nut, boy."
"I know, but it's a personal matter."
"Then here's what you need," said Creed as the barman brought over two ales. Tal paid him and Creed continued. "You need enough gold to pay fifty men for three months, against whatever bonuses you offer."
"I can do that."
"Then you need supplies, wagons-at least two-and mules. If you can get some engineers, they'll cost you more, but they'll save lives and make it that much more difficult for Raven or the other companies to just ride through."
"Keep going," said Tal.
Creed continued to talk and Tal drank in every word, and they continued making plans as the afternoon wore on. At sundown, the innkeeper brought them supper, and the two men continued talking late into the night.
As dawn broke, a column of riders moved slowly down the pass. Creed huddled under the heavy wool cloak he wore and said, "We're being watched, Tal."
"I know. For about the last half an hour, since we crested the ridge."
They had left Latagore a week earlier, forty swordsmen and archers, a company of a dozen engineers, half a dozen porters, and two wagons. They moved slowly, and Tal kept his point and outriders in close, since he did not wish to appear too menacing as they reached the land of the Orodon.
At the frontier between Latagore and Orodon, they had bedded down outside a small inn, and there Tal got as much information as he could on the land on the other side of the mountains. It had taken them three days to reach the meadow where they had slept the night before, then they had broken camp an hour before sunrise.
"If that innkeeper knows what he's talking about," said Creed, "the first village should be about five miles ahead."
"Closer, I think," said Tal. "They wouldn't have sentries posted that far from home."
"Unless they were expecting trouble," answered Creed.
They continued to ride as the sun rose, and as they reached the foothills Tal felt a stab of familiarity. In the distance he could see the haze that he knew hung over the ocean, but between there and where he now sat, the land reminded him achingly of his home mountains. In the distance he saw a haze. "Cooking fires," he murmured. Turning to the men, he said, "Rest here until I get back, but don't get too comfortable."
The men muttered and a few made jokes, but as he was their captain and was paying them well, they obeyed. Creed had convinced Tal that he had to take the role of captain, otherwise disruption would ensue. Men who had fought alongside one another, or at other times against each other, didn't feel comfortable taking orders from each other, but from a young captain, obviously a gentleman-that was different, especially when he paid good gold up front.
Talon rode on, moving slowly, not wishing to appear rushed or anxious. He sensed that he was being watched, and as he got closer to the Orodon village he knew there would be more eyes, bows and swords close by.
He saw the stockade. The gate was closed. Although he could see no figures on the wall, he knew they were there, just as there would be many warriors in the woods behind him as he rode into the clearing.
He came within a bowshot of the gate and dismounted. Rather than speak, he squatted down with most of his weight on his right foot, his left foot extended a little in front for balance, in the fashion of his people. He waited.
Nearly an hour went by before the gate opened and a single man walked out. He appeared to be in his late fifties, for his hair was mainly silver-grey, but his bearing showed he was still a fit and powerful man. He came to stand before Tal and knelt in a similar fashion, saying nothing.
Slowly, in his native language, Tal said, "I seek a parley with the Orodon."
"You speak the tongue of the Orosini," said the man with a heavy accent. "It is a speech I have not heard since I was a boy."
"I am Orosini."
The man smiled. "You are not. You have no markings."
"I am Talon of the Silver Hawk, of Village Kulaam, called Kielianapuna, as a boy. My village was destroyed on my naming day, as I waited on Shatana Higo for my name vision. I was left for dead by those who slew my people. I am the last of the Orosini."
"Who are your people?"
"I am son to Elk's Call at Dawn and Whisper of the Night Wind, grandson to Laughter in his Eyes. My brother was Hand of the Sun, and my sister was called Miliana. All were slain and I am here for vengeance."
"Why do you come here for vengeance, Talon of the Silver Hawk?"
"Men are coming to burn you out of your villages, to slaughter your people and scatter your ashes to the winds. They are the same men who destroyed the Orosini."
"I am called Jasquenel," the old chieftain said. "In our tongue it means Rock Breaker. If you have cause against our enemy, then you are a friend and welcome. What of the others you've left in the hills?"
"They are my men," said Tal. "They obey me and will fight alongside your warriors. I have weapons in the wagon, and I have brought engineers, for if we can turn the invaders away while you warn the other villages, then can you save your people."
The old man nodded, then stood up. "You may enter the village. I will send a man who speaks the Common Tongue to summon your men. We shall feast tonight and discuss what is to be done when the invaders come."
Tal stood up as well. He extended his hand, and the Orodon chieftain gripped his forearm, in the same fashion as the Orosini used to greet one another. Jasquenel said, "You are welcome, Talon of the Silver Hawk."
Tal smiled. "Among my men I am known as Tal Hawkins. They do not know me to be Orosini, and think me a gentleman from the Kingdom of the Isles."
"Then we shall also call you Tal Hawkins. Come. Let us go inside and talk to the other men of the village."
Leading his horse, Tal followed the old man. As he entered the stockade, he felt a stab of emotion. It was all so much like his own home, yet there was enough that was different that he knew it wasn't home.
Home would never exist for him again.
CHAPTER NINETEEN - Defence.
Tal waited.
Jasquenel stood beside him on the stockade, watching for the first sign of the invaders. For a countless time Tal reviewed all the things they had done in the last ten days. Runners had been dispatched to all the nearby villages, who in turn sent more runners to villages farther north. If Raven and his company managed to fight their way past this village-Queala-they would be resisted at every other village until they were turned south.
In the ten days since Tal had come here with his company, he had felt sudden bouts of sorrow and yearning, for no place since his boyhood reminded him of his home as Queala did. The Orodon were not the Orosini, but it was clear that at one time they had been close cousins, for many of their ways were Orosini ways. There was a familiar long house where the men gathered in council, and a round house where the women worked. Their dress and customs were much like his own people's, too. But there were differences too, and often it was these differences as much as the similarities that reminded him of how much he had lost.
Queala was larger than his home had been, for it had thirty families living within its walls, compared to the dozen or so in Village Kulaam. There were four common buildings, the men's long house, the women's round house, a community kitchen, and a bathhouse. Smaller homes filled the stockade, with only a central clearing left empty.
He looked back over the wall and down at the clearing in front of the stockade now. The engineers had dug traps and covered them with canvas; then added light coats of earth for camouflage, and wind and a light dusting of snow two nights before had completely hidden them. There was an inconspicuous-looking twig stuck in the ground a hundred yards to the right and fifty yards away from the wall, and a large rock at the edge of the clearing. From the rock to the twig, then the twig to the gate was the safe route to the gate; otherwise one risked being impaled upon a nasty set of stakes.
Tal thought about the defence of the village and realized that he had been fortunate; the village had only two walls that could readily be attacked-the south and the west, where the main gate was. The north wall overlooked a very steep hillside which should be impossible for a significant number of men to climb; two bowmen could easily sit up on the wall there and pick off any attackers foolish enough to try to come at the village that way. The east wall overlooked a gorge that fell away sixty feet below the base of the wall.
Two massive catapults had been assembled by the engineers. These men had fascinated Tal by their ability to walk into the woods with a set of simple tools, some ropes, a few nails and some spikes and emerge three days later with these impressive engines. The leader of the engineers, a man named Gaskle, had said that if they had a good smithy, some iron ore and a forge to work with, they could build him a proper trebuchet in a week, but Tal had observed that he thought the catapults would be sufficient, as they would probably get only one chance to rain rocky death on the attackers before Raven and his men beat a retreat.
Glancing down at the walls, Tal saw where the engineers had reinforced the stockade, against the possibility of the attackers using a ram. It was unlikely they would bring a heavy, covered ram; but they might think to try a large tree bole fitted with wooden wheels, which they could roll down the hill towards the gate. It should bounce off, if it didn't get fouled up in the pits that had been dug along the way. Tal was satisfied that all had been done that could be done.
And so they waited. Sentries two days before had sent word of bands of armed men riding through the southern passes and marshalling in a meadow half a day's ride to the south. Tal glanced skyward. It was now mid-morning, so the attack could come at any time. He looked across to the southern wall. John Creed met his glance and nodded. Nothing in the woods there to see.
Tal pondered. He was no expert on tactics or strategy, having read only a few books on the subject while studying in Salador, and having no practical experience of warfare. The skill he had with a sword was as a duellist, and he did not know if it would serve him on the field of battle. Which was why he had come to rely on John Creed and his experience. There was no rank in the company, but it was clear to all the other men that Creed was the unofficial second-in-command.
At the moment, the thirty men of the company were lounging in doorways or under the overhang at the wall, saving their energy for the coming battle. Tal had sent ten men each to the next two villages up the line, with the engineers, to bolster their defences.
By all rumour more than one company was moving north, probably two; perhaps three. Tal was occasionally visited by the fear that Raven and his gang would raid another village, leaving Queala to a different band and robbing him of the chance for revenge. He tried to put that out of his mind and be content to let fate bring him what it would. Either way, he would save the Orodon from the fate of the Orosini. Eventually, he would find Raven and those others who had wronged his people-if not in this next battle, then the next, or one after that.
"The signal," said Jasquenel suddenly.
Tal looked where Jasquenel indicated and saw sunlight flash from a mirror. He waited and counted, and when the signal started to repeat, he said, "Two hundred horsemen coming through the southern pass." He calculated quickly. "Less than an hour. Creed!" he shouted.
"Yes, Captain?"
"Two hundred riders coming from the south!"