Shadow Gate (62 page)

“Who would command these gathered companies?” asked the censor.

“Naturally they will serve under your formal command and oversight, since you know the region best. Consider, if an army marches out of the north, it is likely they will use either West Track, as they did before, or Rice Walk, to approach Olossi.”

“Having used West Track once, they might try Rice Walk the second time. Better forage, too. More paths to Olossi, won't be confined to the one road as they are on West Track.”

“Exactly. Therefore, we must be prepared, and we must have trained, disciplined soldiers to face them. If I learned one thing from the battle at Olossi it is that the army—however large—that marched against us did not have good discipline. They expected that brutality and fear—and sheer numbers—would win the day for them. But it did not.”

“How many soldiers do you want?” asked the censor, scratching his beard.

“Can you raise six companies?”

“A full cohort? The hells! That would be over six hundred men. Maybe in the tales you could gather so many. We're moving into transplanting season. Folk are needed in the fields.”

Volla said, “How will these soldiers be fed and clothed?”

“Taxes, both local and regional. In kind and in coin. You are paying to protect yourselves.”

Volla was about Joss's age, with a healthy girth and
healthy color in her brown cheeks. Not a woman, Joss supposed, who dismissed danger lightly in the hope it would flit away. “We have seen refugees on the road, and resettled a few families in this area in the months since the year's beginning.”

“You know what is at risk,” said Anji.

“A standing army.” The censor shook his big head like an ox dealt a blow. “I don't like it. Seems like too much. What do you think, Marshal Joss? I hear tell you came out of Clan Hall, before you were appointed marshal at Argent Hall. Not a day too soon, if you ask me, for there was trouble at the hall.”

“There'll be worse trouble sooner than you dare think,” said Joss. “There was confusion within our enemy's forces after the defeat in Olossi, but the northern army has redoubled its efforts to bring Haldia and Istri under its control.”

“Haldia and Istri?” asked Volla. “That's a lot of country.”

“Clan Hall sends reports that a huge army is marching south down the Istri Walk toward Toskala. If they take Toskala, and after that Nessumara, what's to stop them from striking against Olossi? Do you want to take the chance that they won't?”

“They might kill themselves, trying to do too much,” said Guri. “Wear themselves so thin, they break.”

“They might,” agreed Joss. “I hope they do.”

“Eiya!” said Guri. “I catch your drift. Well, then, Captain Anji, you're saying you'll leave a few men here to do the training, whip these colts into shape, and maybe keep the captaincies of what companies I can raise?”

“Trained men can go home to their farms once they're no longer needed,” said Anji. “As I hope they can all do in time.”

“I doubt I can raise an entire cohort, but I'll fling my net wide, as it says in the tale.”

A delighted shout rose from the assembly as the soldier reached the part where the eagles had dropped
ceramic vessels filled with oil of naya over the army. Yet the memory of what Joss had seen when oil burst into flames gave him no delight.

“We'll have some trouble raising taxes, in coin or in kind,” said Volla. “Folk will want protection, but they won't want to pay.”

“Do what you can,” said Anji, “and apply to Olossi's council for additional supplies of rice and cloth if necessary.”

Guri grunted, frowning as he narrowed his eyes. He glanced at Joss. “Giving Olossi's council another rope around our necks.”

Volla nodded, but she looked skeptical. “Marshal, there's another thing, since you're here. We've need of a reeve to preside over our assizes. We have a number of cases to settle.”

“I'll sit this evening, if that will help you. What I cannot clear, I'll be sure to let the stewards at Argent Hall know needs attention. They'll send a reeve out.”

“I thank you, then. I'll see an assizes table is set up after supper.”

“I have one other request,” continued Anji. “If there are respectable young women available, looking for husbands, I'd ask that the men I leave here be allowed to marry according to the custom of your country and set up a household. I could have women sent up from Olossi, but it might provide my men with more stability within the local area if their wives come from local families.”

“Outlanders.” Volla eyed the dour Qin soldiers as they listened to the tale of their bravery and bold counterattack. “That won't be easy.”

“Any woman who marries one of my men will live well, and be treated properly.”

Guri shook his head. “Why is it necessary? They can visit the temple of Ushara, if that's what you're worried about.”

“My understanding is that any man can visit a temple,
or other such establishment,” said Anji, “but that is not how a man would propose to conduct his entire life. Is that what you would want for your own sons, censor?”

“I have no sons. I've never married. I'm dedicated to the Thunderer.” He chuckled as he looked Anji up and down. “I'm not fashioned in the same way you are. I like the same flesh Volla does.”

She slapped him on the chest, in a jesting way. Joss smiled. These two trusted each other, which meant they could probably work together effectively in dire times.

Anji had a way of marginally tightening his eyes that revealed, to Joss, that the captain, however clever he undoubtedly was, had not worked out the meaning behind the exchange.

“Dedication to the gods is a worthy service,” the captain said finally, “but nevertheless, my men want to get married. The temple is not part of the custom of the land we come from. No man of my people will feel himself complete without marriage. That's just how it is.”

“Did none of these men leave behind wives in your old country?” Volla asked.

“Some did, but since we are exiles and can never return, those women may as well be dead to them.”

She pressed him. “How can we be sure they will not mistreat a woman here? No offense intended, I'm meaning, just we hear stories about how badly the Southerners treat women.”

“We are Qin, not Sirni,” said Anji. “However, it's true not every mating is a happy one. It is dishonorable for one party to leave another without proper negotiations. If there is trouble, you may bring the matter to the attention of my wife, in Olossi. I can assure you she will not allow any woman to be mistreated. If any of my men does so, I will whip him myself.”

This coolly delivered promise satisfied Volla. “I suppose a woman who marries one of your men will be assured a decent house and furnishings, utensils, clothing.”

“The opportunity to set up a workshop of her own, if she has a trade, which is a condition my wife insisted on. I only insist that you deal fairly with my men in this issue, that only hardworking and healthy women come forward, not leavings that no other clan would take. If you would prefer negotiations on these matters to go through my wife, you will find her better prepared to answer your questions and deal wisely with your concerns.”

Volla examined the captain, then gave a swift and rather admiring once-over in Joss's direction, enough to sweeten his grin. “I'll see what I can do. Guri, what do you think?”

“I think he's not your type,” said the censor, tilting his chin toward Joss. “I don't trust them when they're that handsome
and
they know it.”

She chuckled as Joss felt himself redden. Then she sighed. “It isn't only rumor that discontented lads have walked north looking for adventure and never come home. That debt slaves in greater numbers than usual have vanished up country as runaways. Villages have been burned. The roads aren't safe. Trade is hurting. We must be prepared. I just don't know why we need outlanders to raise and train companies. What's wrong with the likes of Censor Guri, here, and Kotaru's ordinands, and the local militias? No offense meant, Captain Anji.”

Captain Anji had a tough hide, able to take these repeated slings without showing their impact.

“No offense taken, verea. Your militias and ordinands are sufficient for local traffic, but in terms of disciplined troops who can act in concert at range, and under severe conditions, you need a different sort of training, a thoroughgoing element of toughness. That's what my troops can provide. We are the skeleton of a new fighting force, one that will protect Olo'osson. Every man willing to take up arms can receive the same training.”

“I don't see we have a choice,” said Guri. “It's true
enough that Kotaru's legions are trained to serve local matters and local manners, not to march in cohorts under the command of a single general. But this is my question. Put our men under control of the city, then what's to say the city doesn't decide it controls us? Neh, Marshal?”

“The man's got a point,” said Volla.

“It's a fair enough question,” said Joss. “But these aren't ordinary times, Censor Guri. If the Northerners attack again, having learned from their last attempt, we can't fight back as a scatter of small units. We'll be crushed.”

“Let me tell you something about my mother's people, the Qin,” said Captain Anji. “Our ancient enemies are demons who live in the west. There are a lot of them, I assure you. They steal young men and women from our people when they can.” His gaze drifted to a point somewhat above his listeners' heads, and for a pair of breaths he stared pensively into the sky. By the way his jaw tensed, he was thinking about a matter that displeased him. Then he blinked, relaxed, and continued.

“Why have the demons not overrun us? Because we have a var—a king—while demons always fight among themselves. They have no leader, no general. So we ride as a united people, and they scatter themselves into tribes.” With a half smile, he nodded at Volla. “Not that I'm comparing you folk to demons.”

She snorted, pleased with his turnabout joke.

“But bear in mind,” he went on, “that those who lead the northern army don't care about niceties of Hundred custom. You can take your chances with an army in which you have some say, or you can take your chances with the invaders, who won't stop to ask your leave. That's how I see it. I came here to make a home for myself. I don't want to ride to war. I want to live with my wife and raise my children—if I have many children, as
I hope—in peace. So I'll do what I must, to get what I want.”

A
T DAWN, JOSS
rose after too little sleep, washed his face, dressed, and slouched out to the gates of the temple. Thank Ilu that Volla had kept the assizes polite, swatting down witnesses and offenders who threatened to become unruly or loud. She had kept him supplied with a good stock of decent wine. His head ached, but so far it was a dull throb.

A number of locals, some he'd heard from yesterday evening, had gathered at the gates of the temple, come to purchase vials of oil of naya—best-quality water-white—from the Silver merchant before the troop rode on. Anji finished delivering instructions to the five soldiers he was leaving behind in Storos, then walked over to Joss.

“If one of the reeves can return me to my company after I've assured myself all is well with Mai, I'd be doubly appreciative,” he said, pulling on gloves.

Joss rubbed the back of his neck, hoping to find the root of the ache and smooth it out. “Your company is not riding straight back to Olossi?”

Anji shook his head. “We must set up additional training camps and muster in as many recruits for training as possible, immediately. Just as you're training reeves—and I'm training more soldiers—in the Barrens.”

“Ah, yes. In the Barrens.” Joss nodded toward the gate. “Do you have an arrangement with the Silvers?”

“With the Ri Amarah? What do you mean?”

“Isar is selling oil of naya. A precious commodity, found within lands you've now claimed, in the Barrens.”

“King's oil—that's what they call it in the empire—is renowned for its healing properties. The Ri Amarah concentrate on physic and ointments, items easily carted in small amounts and used for healing. Which they sell at a fair price, and make available to all, not just the wealthy.”

“Captain,” said Joss with a laugh, “was that an answer?”

Anji's smile when it came was full with real amusement. Aui! The man had dimples. Who would have thought it!

“Better to speak truth to the man on whose harness my life will be dependent, eh?” he said. “Lest, like an arrow, I be loosed to fall to earth.”

“I'd not loose you for anything less than, say, stealing your beautiful wife.”

That was the wrong thing to say. Anji's grin vanished, but after all he was still looking at Isar. The other Olossi merchant was talking to various local men and women, but she hadn't brought anything to sell to the villagers.

“I've been betrayed three times, Marshal. I don't give my trust easily. The Ri Amarah have dealt honorably with me, and given sanctuary to my wife.”

“I was joking about stealing your wife,” said Joss hastily.

Anji raised a gloved hand as a customer dismisses an offered cup of cordial at an inn. “I know it. You're an honorable man, and you're too old for her anyway.”

The silky way the words slipped out made Joss wince.

“And there's your weakness,” added Anji, a wicked gleam sharpening his straight-lipped expression. “You're vain of your good looks and your ease with women.”

“Ouch. So what's your weakness, Captain?”

“Not for me to say.”

“Your love for your wife?”

“Not at all. She is my strength. It's not my place to go naming my weaknesses. That would be like showing my enemy where I'd placed my most inexperienced tail-men.”