D & D - Red Sands (23 page)

"Vulture Troop, to me!" he shouted. The Faziris trotted to the sound of their captain's voice. Fu'ad asked, "Do any of you speak Kaipurian?"

"I do, my captain," said a trooper. Fu'ad knew him as Yalil.

"See if you can make out what he's saying." Yaiil dismounted and bent to the dying Chatalite. The villager's lips moved briefly, then his body went slack. Yalil stood.

"Very strange, sir," he said.

"Well, out with it, man!"

"He said the beast-men came back. They were very angry because one of their number disappeared near the village. When the locals professed to know nothing about it, the leader of the beast-men went wild and destroyed the place. Sir."

"Beast-men? What sort of nonsense is that?" said Fu'ad.

"I do not know, sir."

In that instant, Trooper Yalil ceased to know anything, for a steel-tipped crossbow quarrel struck him hard in the chest. Yalil threw up his hands and fell, dead before he hit the ground.

"Ambush!" cried Fu'ad. "Dismount! Take cover!"

Quarrels hailed on them from the mountainside above Chatal. Fu'ad leaped over the wall and threw himself down They were in a bad position. The burning huts highlighted them for the hidden archers but just deepened the shadows in which the enemy hid.

"Anyone hurt? Speak out!" he said. Each man called out his name. Only Yalil was hit. Fu'ad watched the horses anxiously. If the bowmen decided to shoot them, they'd be marooned on foot at the enemy's mercy. Oddly enough, no quarrel was aimed at the tempting targets.

"Trumpeter, can you hear me?"

"Yes, my captain."

"When I tell you, I want you to blow the call for 'Rally.' Is that clear?"

"By your order, sir."

Fu'ad slipped off his helmet so that the gleam wouldn't attract the enemy's eye. He peered over the top of the wall. The mountain was a dark blur on which he could see nothing.

"Men," he said, "when I order, we'll stand and draw swords. I want you to spread out and work your way to the mountain. Anyone or anything you meet is to die." He replaced his helmet. "Invincibles! Stand—up!" A line of mailed men rose up behind the wall. "Swords out!" Curved scimitars whisked out of scabbards and glittered in the firelight.

A brace of quarrels flickered at them and missed. The Faziris spread out and began climbing the slope toward the hidden bowmen. Fu'ad lifted his heavy mail skirt and slogged up the hill.

Something moved in the shadows ahead. He shouted,
" Wah-lai-lai
/" and ran at the figure. The crossbow thumped, and a bolt shot past his head. Up went the scimitar, and down. The enemy brought his bow up to parry the blow. Fu'ad altered his angle and cut under the bow. He felt his blade strike home, and the archer dropped his weapon with a deep grunt. Fu'ad advanced and slashed twice across the foe.

The sounds of swordplay reached him. He cried, "Rally, Invincibles! Rally to me!" The trumpeter put the horn to his mouth and blew.

Marad heard the call he'd been straining to hear. "Column of twos, forward! At the gallop, charge!"

Marad's men thundered through the ravine, followed by those on foot. The Faziris set up a wailing war cry, the feared cry Fu'ad had uttered when he spotted his attacker. But by the time Marad reached Chatal, the fight was over. Fu'ad's men had killed three bowmen, and dragged their bodies to the village street.

Marad's horse skidded to a halt before the captain. "We are here, my brother!" he said. Fu'ad wiped his smoke- and sweat-stained face and gave Marad his hand.

"\bu arrived with dispatch, but the enemy has already fled," he said. "Look here."

Marad got down and examined the slain bowmen. "These are not men!" he said with revulsion.

"'Beast-men.' That's what a dying villager called them," said Fu'ad. "I've heard tales of such creatures who dwell west of Nangol. They hire out to ambitious warlords as soldiers."

"What are they doing in the Shammat?" Marad wondered.

"No good, you can wager on it." Fu'ad ordered his troopers to disperse in pairs and search for other villagers or prowling gnoles. When he and Marad were alone, he said, "We must consider what this means to our quest."

"How so, my brother?"

"If the wretches who dishonored the vizier and the sultan—may he live forever—have encountered these beast-men, then they may well be dead. I do not believe that myself; any band clever enough to escape the dungeons of Omerabad is not likely to succumb to wandering mercenaries.

"So the nub is this: not only do we have to struggle against Nature and the wits of our criminals, now we have to beware of armed marauders in the hills."

"As if our task was not severe enough," said Marad.

"Be of good cheer, my brother. Are we not Invincibies? Is there another company like us in the world? Our

trouble is multiplied, true, but our duty is still the same. And we shall persevere." "It is a hard thing, duty."

Fu'ad regarded his dwindling force. "Hard and costly," he said.

On
the Black
Bowl's Rim

With the coming of night, the 'strelli took to the air to hunt, to work, to play. A steady thrum hung over the village of chimneys as thousands of wings fanned the air. The companions stood assembled in the square formed by the four tallest flues. With them were Elperex and Elperath, plus a dozen 'strelli warriors of both sexes. The fighters had no armor, but wore wicked metal spurs on each ankle. The scythe-blades could easily separate a man's head from his shoulders.

"Are you sure this is necessary?" Marix said. Jadira was smearing an ointment of soot, grease, and water on his face. Her own was already blacked.

"The gnoles see ten times better in the dark than humans," she said. "Isn't that right, Tamakh?"

"Oh, at least ten times."

"And we don't want that pale face of yours giving us away, do we?" She dabbed an extra-thick glob on the end of his nose and smiled. Her teeth stood out like pearls against her soot-daubed face.

"I feel like a painted savage," he complained.

"On the contrary, friend Marix," said Uramettu. "For the first time, you resemble a true gentleman." Tamakh burst out laughing.

The 'strelli had painted themselves, too, though not to conceal. Their task was to distract the gnoles so that the humans could get into position at the crater lip and spy on the camp. So their slender, hairless bodies were marked with streaks of glowing
diol.
Elperex showed Tamakh where
diol
grew, in the damp blowholes in the once liquid lava.
Diol
were long and stringy mushrooms, and the spores yielded the glowing paste.

When Marix was fully painted on face and hands, he reached for his Faziri helmet. Uramettu told him to leave it behind.

"But why?"

"Tonight we move fast and quietly. Armor adds weight and makes noise."

Marix dropped the helmet in the cinders. "Cuirass, too?" he asked. Uramettu nodded. Jadira helped him unbuckle the metal breastplate. "Strangest thing I ever heard of," he said to no one in particular. "Going into battle without shield, helm, or armor, face black as a kettle, and on foot, no less."

"I pray we're not going into battle," said Jadira. "We're four against a thousand."

Elperex hooked one of his wing-fingers on Jadira's sleeve and said, "The time to go is now."

Elperath gave a piping command to her followers, and the armed 'strelli took off. From the ground, the humans could see the glowing strips blinking in and out of sight as the 'strellis' wings flapped deeply, screening their torsos. They set off in single file with Uramettu leading. She decided not to assume panther shape for the reconnaissance, as the gnoles' guard-wolves would

detect her strong cat-scent.

The airborne 'strelli led them to a crack in the crater wall. Rock and dirt from the surface had filtered in, making a rugged ramp out of the crater. They emerged after a short climb and luxuriated in the cool, dry wind blowing across the mountain.

The walk to the gnoles' end of the crater was fraught with tension. Elperex had told them the gnoles patrolled aggressively, and more than once the companions had to lie low and let the marauders pass. Beast-men swaggered by, talking loudly in their own tongue. They chewed cbarred mutton joints and passed jugs of strong liquor back and forth, but were still too vigilant for the humans to ignore.

Elperex alighted noiselessly behind Marix and tapped him on the shoulder. Marix started so violently the last pair of gnoles paused and looked back. The quick-witted 'strelli made a very high, keening sound, and two of the d/o7-streaked warriors swooped down on the gnoles. There was a muffled thud, a scraping sound, and the ghostly fliers zoomed back into the sky. The gnoles lay on the ground, one face up, the other face down. Neither moved.

Uramettu darted out. She dragged the bodies off the path and rejoined her comrades.

"Dead as doorposts," she reported.

"That was very good!" Marix said to Elperex. "If your people can fight like that, why haven't you driven the gnoles out?"

"Stupid rapa, they not wear iron like most. Also, rapa awake all the time, and in bright day pip'strelli cannot see to fly," he said.

"Stalemate," said Jadira.

The crater widened as they neared the place of the

Sacred Chimneys. The wind was off the east, and a vile odor blew over them. Tamakh said, "The vapor coming I loin the sacred flues seems not only flammable but mephitic."

"What did he say?" asked Marix, pinching his nose.

"It stinks," said Tamakh.

"That it does!"

"Quiet," said Uramettu. She dropped on all fours and (rept to the rim of the bowl. The camp below was lit by several large bonfires. Groups of gnoles were standing .tround the fires, singing and chanting in unison. The song was a monotonous succession of three notes, over and over.

"I've heard better singing in a dogfight," quipped Marix.

"They're not just crooning for amusement," said Tamakh, on his belly beside Marix. "They're building i heir power."

"How so, Holy One?" asked Jadira.

"It's a standard magical practice. They chant slogans together, things such as 'We are great', 'We are strong', 'Heath to the Enemy', and so forth. This excites the mind, and they become convinced what they say is true. And it
is
true."

"What would they be building power for, do you reckon?" Marix said.

"War. Plunder. Death."

From behind the largest bonfire strode a veritable giant among gnoles. He was taller than Uramettu by a I lead and as wide as the portly priest—only this gnole was not fat. On his head he wore a cylindrical helmet of Narsian design, and golden spikes radiated from the i rown like solar rays.

"That must be their leader," said Tamakh.

The gnole general was naked to the waist. The firelight bathed his massive torso in crimson as he walked with deliberate tread around the circle. Fists on hips, he glared fiercely at his singing horde. His presence inspired his warriors to louder, harsher cries as he passed.

Elperath and two 'strelli glided in behind the watching humans. "See, see!" the 'strelli chief whispered. "Ubrith Zelka!"

General Zelka stopped his march around the fire. He threw his hands up, and the gnole army fell silent. Ubrith Zelka addressed his troops in a vast, booming voice that echoed in the ragged crater.

Elperath tugged on Mark's foot. "You come," she hissed. "See Joj Xarar."

They moved on. Halfway around the bowl, they found the body of another gnole guard. Nearby, a 'strelli warrior also lay dead, impaled on the gnole's javelin. "Brave Eltonath," said Elperath. "She did not give a death cry. She did not reveal us to the rapa."

The rear of the crater was where the tops of the chimneys were closest to the wall. The wind was clearing the gas away, so the companions and the 'strelli settled into a cleft in the crater rim and observed the Joj Xarar.

The surfaces of the flues were a good deal smoother than the ones the 'strelli lived in. Elperex explained that generations of his people had polished the hard volcanic rock to its present state.

"It will be very difficult to climb," said the priest.

"Why climb at all?" said jadira. "Since the 'strelli can fly, why don't they take a torch aloft and relight the sacred fire themselves?"

Elperath and her mate had a brief consultation. Elperex said, "Know, walking friends, that the vapors which rise from the Joj Xarar are deathly. Know, too, that the rapa keep watch, and net or shoot any pip'strelli they see."

"Filth," commented Marix.

Jadira lifted her head and studied the angles between the chimneys and the rim of the crater. "Could we, do you think, shoot a line across to the top of the spout, climb over, and relight the flame?"

"Agma preserve me! Do I look like a monkey?" said Tamakh.

"And the gas—remember, to breathe too much is fatal," said Uramettu.

"All right. I bow to your greater wisdom. So how do we ignite the Sacred Chimneys?"