Come Twilight (52 page)

Yamut ibn Rabi rushed forward, hoping to turn this misfortune to advantage and was stopped as the one metal ball still spinning slammed into his shin with an audible crack; Yamut ibn Rabi howled and went down, holding his leg.

“I am sorry,” said Ragoczy Germainus, stopping his chain from moving. “The break will heal over time, but it will be long, and you must keep it splinted and bound for all the months it heals or it will be weak.” He looked toward Sayed. “You may draw your dagger if you wish, and we can battle on, but you will not prevail.”

“Attack him!” Chimena ordered, pointing to Sayed. “Do not stand there!”

Obediently Sayed pulled his dagger from his sash, raised it and rushed at Ragoczy Germainus only to be stopped as Ragoczy Germainus seized his arm and pulled it sharply around behind him, all but lifting him off his feet.

“If you drop your dagger I will not have to hurt you anymore,” said Ragoczy Germainus gently.

“What has happened?” Blaga demanded.

“My master has broken the leg of one and may wrench the shoulder of the other from its socket,” said Rotiger with no display of emotion.

Any remarks Blaga might have added were silenced as Chimena came rushing out of her niche, screaming in outrage, a spiked club swinging in her hands as she approached Ragoczy Germainus.

“You will not do this,” Ragoczy Germainus said, and released Sayed to face her, stepping aside as she swung at him so that her club hit nothing and the force of its weighted swing nearly pulled her off her feet. As the club began its arc back, Ragoczy Germainus moved in and stopped it, lowering it out of her hands and letting it fall to the ground. “Enough,” he said.

Chimena faced him. “You are going to kill me, are you not?”

Ragoczy Germainus stared at her. “Of course not,” he said, still nonplused. “You are of my blood, and I do not kill those I have brought into the world.”

“I kill those I have made,” she said with pride. “I have the right.” She studied him. “I know what it is. You are afraid.” She looked down at Yamut ibn Rabi. “You should not live for this.”

“He fought well,” Ragoczy Germainus said quickly. “He did not know how to counter my weapon.”

“He did nothing to stop you,” Chimena persisted. “Now he will need a year of being crippled at least to be able to defend me again.”

“What is a year to you?” Ragoczy Germainus asked. “You have more than a century behind you, and many more ahead of you. A year—it is such a little time.” He waited for her to speak, and when she did not, he went on. “I have my medicaments with me. I can splint his leg and show you what must be done to keep it from being injured again.”

“Being injured again?” Her voice rose in acerbity. “Why should I do anything for him? He disappointed me.”

“As will many others before now and after,” said Ragoczy Germainus, taking a risk in reminding her of what she did not want to consider. “You brought them to this life—why can you not accept them as they are?”

Chimena’s lip lifted in an expression of disgust. “He is no better than Ennati and Blaga. I should have Sayed strike off their heads and leave their bodies in the forest of vermin to forage on.”

“Because they were unable to kill me?” Ragoczy Germainus asked, not quite incredulously.

“Because they let themselves be bested,” she said, unwilling to look at him. “They are worthless.”

“Worthless,” Ragoczy Germainus echoed, shaking his head. “They have given you all their loyalty and you want them slaughtered.”

“I will find others who will do what I require of them; they will not be as cowardly as these are.” She went to Yamut ibn Rabi and spat in derision. “It is bad enough that you refused to punish Olutiz for me, you now fall to a weapon that is little more than a toy.” She was about to kick him again when Ragoczy Germainus restrained her, pulling her away from the fallen Moor.

“You must not,” he said as she struggled in his embrace. “For your sake, you must not.”

“Let
go
of me!” she ordered, trying to scrape her heels down his legs without success; her attempt to smash his arch was also thwarted, leaving her fuming.

“You are doing an injustice to your people, Chimena,” he said steadily.

With a final wrench she broke out of his arms; panting and square-mouthed in fury, she rounded on him. “Get away from here! You have no authority over me. Go. Go now. This is nothing of yours.
I
am nothing of yours. Leave me and do not come back, for you are now my enemy, and you will be my enemy until one of us is truly dead.” She was trembling with rage and her voice shook. “If you come back, you will be killed.”

“By whom?” Ragoczy Germainus asked, knowing his challenge was futile.

“I will have those around me who will not fail me.” She pointed down the mountain. “This is
my
place. You do not belong here.”

He took a step toward her only to see her draw a long, thin poignard from her deep sleeve. “Chimena,” he said.

“If you come any nearer, I will use this on Yamut ibn Rabi, and then on Sayed—” She looked around and discovered Sayed was missing. “The craven—how
dare
he—he will be made to pay for his perfidy.” She went silent, then pointed at Ragoczy Germainus. “I will not punish the two you brought if you go at once,” she said in a tone that was coldly remote. “If you linger, they will suffer for it.” She held her poignard up, ready to use it.

“Give me your Word, Chimena,” Ragoczy Germainus said, aware that she was prepared to do everything she promised.

“You have it. If you go. Now.” Her rictus smile was dire.

There were so many things Ragoczy Germainus wanted to say to Chimena, and he realized that all were useless. He walked back to his horse and got into the saddle, an emptiness yawning within him so profound that it held him like pain. A jumble of parting words rose in his mind, only to be abandoned; she had no desire to listen, nor inclination to hear. If he tried to press an advantage with her, the three vampires on the ground would pay the price of his failure. “Come, Rotiger,” he said as he signaled his horse to turn, and the mule with them. “Ambrosius and Lavetta and Ubertuz are waiting. We have a long way to go.”

Text of a dispatch from Dabir ibn Badr ibn Jumah at Terrago to Ibrahim ibn Husain at Zaragusta.

In the name of Allah, the All-Seeing and All-Merciful, this request from the leaders of our great fleet, that must surely triumph for the Glory of Islam, and to which end this petition is presented to Ibrahim ibn Husain on behalf of those devoted to the Caliph and the Prophet of the One God. May I be struck blind and impotent if I report in error.

As the officer given the task of supervising logging in the mountains east of Zaragusta, you are without doubt aware of the severe storms that have cost us so many lives and ships since the Spring Equinox. Not only have we been unable to provide the admirals’ needs, we have many ships still awaiting repairs that cannot be completed unless you undertake to increase the lumber that is needed to restore our navy and our merchants to their preeminent position on the seas. Without the enterprise of those over whom you have authority, we might lose the advantage we have enjoyed for more than twenty years; should that happen at so crucial a time, there is little chance that we could soon recover what we had lost, for our momentum has not altered until now, and as a hunter more urgently pursues a prey when he knows it is wounded, so our enemies will hound us should they come to discover how extensive our damage has been to our ships.

Therefore it is imperative that you increase the number of logs you deliver and the speed at which you deliver them. To that end, you are being allocated twenty more work-gangs of slaves to enable you to provide us with what is required. We are also allocating more barges for the purpose of carrying cut logs down the river to the port, and the crews to man the barges as well. These crews will need to be quartered and fed, and will therefore require tents for barracks and tools for their work, all of which they shall have with them. The work-gangs for cutting trees will be provided tents as well, against the desertions that have been the bane of overseers in the mountains.

Your reports of demons have been noted, and appropriate talismans will be issued for the preservation of the slaves cutting trees. We will also increase the flocks feeding on the hillsides once they are open; it may prove then that the demons are Christians who have become outlaws and bandits, hiding in the forests and preying upon those venturing too near their hiding-places.

So that the remaining villagers will not be tempted to side with these lawless creatures, we will excuse all taxes for a year, and charge Christians the same taxes as followers of the Prophet for five years, so that they will not be beggared by aiding us. This may well put an end to the rumors of demons and the tales of the living dead who pursue the living for the purpose of draining the life from them. It is fitting that we should bring such fables to an end, and to cease the rites of Holy Blood that have been in the traditions of those mountains for many years, for
to encourage anyone in those beliefs is to turn them from Allah and His Prophet, by indulging the ignorant in their superstitions. Let the villagers and shepherds see that we will not deny them charity, or refuse them the means of making a living, and they will no longer seek the favor of the creatures of legend. If there is more talk of demons, then burn the hillsides once you have taken the trees: that will destroy many hiding places as well as put an end to all this talk of demons and it will show the villagers that we are not going to accept their excuses, or it will send the demons—if demons there are—back to Shaitan, and show that the followers of the Prophet and the One True God have nothing to fear from demons, particularly Christian demons.

You will soon have these new crews in your city, and you are urged to prepare for them; you will have to lay in additional foodstuffs and cloth, as well as the leather and metal these work crews require; the bargemen will be able to tend to themselves so long as the Eberuz is kept clear of debris, to which end watermen must be set to work. If we are to maintain control of these mountains, the work-gangs may well prove to be a double blessing, for in cutting trees for our ships, they will also open the mountains for our soldiers. You are being given a great honor and a great responsibility in this time. May Allah grant you strength and wisdom to make any adversity a victory for our people and our God.

This at the first full moon after the Summer Solstice, in Tarrago,

Dabir ibn Badr ibn Jumah

Scribe to the admirals of the fleet

“You have been silent for nearly three days,” Rotiger said to Ragoczy Germainus as they made camp for the night; gathering clouds overhead promised rain before morning and the air was still and close. The leaves hardly stirred.

“I am thinking,” said Ragoczy Germainus distantly.

“You are brooding,” said Rotiger.

Ragoczy Germainus gave a sad laugh. “Perhaps. Lavetta and Ubertuz and Ambroisus are on my mind. I hope I have not caused them pain, being as late as we are.”

“There’s more to it than that,” Rotiger said. “You blame yourself for all Chimena has done.”

“I am not without some responsibility,” said Ragoczy Germainus.

“Why? Did you think she would do what she has done when you made her a vampire?” He was sitting on one of their chests and staring into the fire that burned in a desultory fashion, as if anticipating the wet to come. Their travels had been hard, for the road was neglected and the forest difficult to penetrate where it had grown up around the road; more than once they had had to detour to avoid armed camps or hostile villages and as a result they had not covered as much ground as they had intended. Rotiger reached down into the leather game bag at his feet to pull out his dinner. “Did you expect to have her for an enemy?”

Ragoczy Germainus sighed. “You know the answers; no to both.” He looked up through the branches of the trees. “Nothing I can say will change her now. Perhaps it never could.” He rose from where he had been squatting on his heels and walked over to where their animals were tethered to a long, braided-leather rope stretched between two trees. “They will be restive tonight.”

“Until the storm passes,” said Rotiger. He held a skinned hare in his hands, but he held off beginning to eat, watching Ragoczy Germainus with troubled eyes.

“Yes. Until it passes.” He patted the jenny on her neck, then bent to examine her hock. “The pace is causing her trouble again. I will make another poultice.”

“And tomorrow or the day after we should be out of the mountains and on the plateau, headed for Usca. The forest will not slow us down as much once we are on flatter ground. There should be more travelers about, as well. No doubt we can find an inn where we may all rest for a day or two,” said Rotiger with determined optimism, hoping Ragoczy Germainus would consider his suggestion.

“Perhaps,” said Ragoczy Germainus; he looked away from their animals toward the stack of packs and chests they carried that were now stacked in three neat piles near the fire, ready for loading in the morning. “We will have to be careful of bandits, so near the Usca road to Zaragusta. They, too, know where to find travelers.”

“They have not troubled us thus far,” Rotiger remarked, and an instant later wished he had not spoken.

“That is the doing of Chimena’s vampires. Once we are beyond their range, the bandits will take their place again,” said Ragoczy Germainus with a wry glance toward the forest.

“And soldiers, there will also be soldiers,” added Rotiger. “Christian and Moorish.”

“Oh, yes—most certainly soldiers.” He nodded to the dressed hare in Rotiger’s hands. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“Of course I am,” Rotiger said, feeling a bit foolish.

“Then eat, will you.” Ragoczy Germainus smiled slightly. “I had its blood; now it is yours.”

Rotiger took his wide-bladed knife from his belt and began to carve the hare. “You have had nothing but the blood of game and animals for . . . for many days,” he said, not wanting to admit he had been keeping count.