The Serpentwar Saga: The Complete 4-Book Collection

The Saaur tensed, as if this wasn’t the answer he expected, but Dawar, one of the men from Nahoot’s company, said, ‘Let us get by, Murtag. We don’t have time for your games.’

The Saaur turned and said, ‘You I know, Dawar. I should cleave you both for your bad manners.’

Dawar said, ‘Then who would you have left to cheat at knucklebones?’

There was a long silence, then suddenly the Saaur named Murtag let out a bray that sounded like a leather thong being drawn through a drumhead. He said, ‘Pass, whoreson, but you must camp outside the moat. We are crowded inside. When you come to game tonight, bring plenty of gold.’

After they had ridden away from the checkpoint, Erik urged his horse up to Dawar’s side and said, ‘What was that noise?’

The mercenary shook his head and said, ‘That’s their idea of laughter, if you can believe it. Murtag’s a bully of sorts, but it’s all bluster. Oh, he could cut you in two if he had a mind, but he’d rather have you trembling and pissing your pants, or insulting him back. It’s the indifferent ones that get on his nerves. I’ve gambled with him enough to know. After he’s had some drink, he’s pretty good company, for a lizard. Knows some funny stories.’

Erik smiled. ‘You’ve earned a bonus.’

A calculating look crossed Dawar’s face. ‘You and me should talk later, Corporal.’

‘After the horses are bedded,’ answered Erik.

Erik made his way quickly to where de Loungville and Calis rode, leaning over in his saddle so he could speak quietly to de Loungville. ‘I told Dawar he earned a bonus.’

De Loungville said, ‘Then you can pay it.’

Calis motioned for the company to fan out on the east side of the moat, near another company of men, who ignored their arrival. He turned his horse around and said, ‘What is it?’

‘Young von Darkmoor here is giving away your money.’

Erik explained and Calis said, ‘What’s troubling you?’

‘He was too quick and easy to bluff us past the Saaur. I don’t trust him. I remember he was pretty quick to end the fight, as well, almost …’

‘As if he wanted to be captured?’ finished Calis.

De Loungville grinned, and Erik said, What is it?’

‘Those twenty we kept with us, Erik,’ answered Calis, ‘aren’t the men we felt most able to trust.’

De Loungville said, ‘They’re the ones we most need to keep an eye on.’

Erik sat back in his saddle and stared open-mouthed for a moment, then shook his head. ‘I’m an idiot.’

‘No,’ said Calis, ‘but you’ve a lot to learn about the less obvious side of warcraft. The twenty men we kept all had answers that came a bit too fast and easy for mercenaries. I think this Emerald Queen has agents sprinkled throughout her army. All twenty aren’t agents, I’m sure, but I’m almost certain one or two are, maybe more. So we keep the most likely close by.’

‘Trusting bunch,’ offered de Loungville. ‘Now, look. You and a couple of men you trust, say Biggo and Jadow, keep close to those men, don’t let too many of them off duty at any one time, and keep an eye on where they wander. If any of them head into that fortress, I want one of you along.’ He reached inside his tunic and pulled out a heavy purse. ‘We lost some gold on the baggage train, but I kept most of it.’ He opened the pouch and handed a dozen small coins to Erik. ‘Pass some of this around so that if any one of those twenty lads wants to step into the fort for a drink, you’ll be the fellow to buy it for them. Understand?’

Erik nodded. ‘I’ll make sure no more than four of them are free to cause trouble at a time.’ He turned his horse, put heels to its flanks, and rode back down toward the end of the line.

Calis said, ‘He’s rounding out nicely.’

De Loungville said, ‘Aw, he’s still not nearly half mean enough, but I’ll fix that.’

Calis smiled slightly and turned back to oversee the making of the camp.

Erik walked the perimeter of the camp, keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. With the fortress at their back, Calis had ordered no rampart and trench dug. The men set up their tents quickly and saw to their stores, and began to settle in for the night.

As he moved along, Erik noticed that the eight men from Nahoot’s company that he had put to guarding the remounts were at their posts, talking in pairs, but otherwise where they should be. Four others were bedded down, or at least had been ten minutes before when he had passed their tent. Jadow was watching that group. Four others were working commissary duty. That left four unaccounted for, and if Biggo was doing as ordered, he was close to them.

Erik found Roo in his tent, trying to get some sleep. ‘I thought you had duty?’ said Erik, sitting down to pull off his boots.

‘I traded with Luis. He wanted to go into the fortress and see if there were any whores.’

The thought of women suddenly had Erik interested, so he stopped pulling off his boots. ‘Maybe I should check up.’

Rolling over, Roo said sleepily, ‘You do that.’

Erik quickly made his way to Calis’s command tent, where he found Calis and de Loungville talking with Greylock, who had somehow found a pipe and tabac. Erik found the habit noxious, but had put up with it all his life; smoking was common enough in the taproom at the Inn of the Pintail, though it was discouraged when serious wine tasting was under way. For a moment, Erik wondered what had become of the fancy flint and steel lighter he had possessed back home.

‘What?’ asked de Loungville.

‘I’m going into the fort,’ said Erik, ‘if that’s all right. Luis is in there, and I think Biggo is there, too.’

De Loungville nodded. ‘Keep alert,’ he said with a dismissive wave.

Erik walked up the damp hillock upon which the fortress had been erected, and made his way along the perimeter until he reached the gate. It was still open and the guards on duty were almost asleep. A pair of Saaur, one wearing what Erik took to be an officer’s mark on his breastplate, were talking inside a hut at the gate, but they ignored him as he walked in.

De Loungville had called the fort a ‘classic’ motte-and-bailey, and Erik was fascinated by its construction. An earthen hill had been raised up and a tower built high upon it. Around this hill and tower, a large open area, the bailey, had been left, with the buildings nestled against the wall, sheltered by it. Suddenly it struck Erik that this is the sort of construction Calis had undertaken at Weanat, but on a much more modest scale. This tower could house a half-dozen bowmen with little discomfort, on a platform thirty feet above the ground. A fifteen-foot-high log wall had been erected around a small village, complete with wooden rampart and earthen reinforcement. An army would have little trouble with such a fortress, but most single companies would have had more than enough trouble to take such a fortification.

Inside there were a half-dozen buildings, all made of wood and covered with daub made from dried mud and straw. Smaller wattle-and-daub huts had sprung up around the larger buildings, and a fair-sized town had evolved. Erik could see why the Saaur at the gate had ordered them to remain outside; it was quite close inside this fortress.

He heard laughing and moved toward what he assumed would be an inn, and once inside he knew he had been correct. The room was dingy with smoke and poor light, but the stench of ale, spilled wine, and human perspiration struck Erik like a blow. Suddenly he was terribly homesick and wished to be nowhere so much as back at the Inn of the Pintail. He pushed down the sudden surge of feeling and made his way to the bar.

The barkeep, a stout man with a florid complexion, said, ‘What’ll it be?’

‘Got any good wine?’ asked Erik.

The man raised an eyebrow – everyone else seemed to be drinking ale or fortified spirits – but he nodded and produced a dark bottle from beneath the counter. The cork was intact, so Erik hoped the bottle was fresh and not resealed. Old wine tasted like vinegar mixed with raisins, but you couldn’t convince the average tavern keeper he couldn’t just stick the cork back in at the end of a day and unseal it again the next and not have his customers complain.

The barman produced a cup and poured. Erik sipped. The wine was sweeter than he would have liked, but not as cloying as the dessert wines made to the north of Yabon. Still, it was acceptable and he paid and indicated the barkeep should leave the bottle.

He glanced around the room and saw Biggo on the far side, trying to look inconspicuous and failing mightily. He leaned against the wall, behind a table where five men gamed with two Saaur. The lizard men were too large for their chairs, but they hunkered down as best they could and seemed intent upon the game. Erik recognized the sound of knucklebones, as they called dice here, rattling across the table and the accompanying shouts of the winners and groans of the losers.

After a few minutes. Dawar stood up and left the game. He came over to Erik and said, ‘Got a minute?’

Erik motioned to the barkeep for another cup and filled it. Dawar sipped and made a face. ‘Nothing like the wine from the grand vineyards of home, is it?’ he said.

‘Where’s home?’ asked Erik.

Dawar said, ‘Far from here. Let’s go outside for a minute.’

Erik picked up the bottle and let Dawar lead him outside into the fresh, cold night air. The man looked one way, then the other, and signaled for Erik to follow him around the corner, into a dark place next to the wall, sheltered above by the palisades.