The Ancient Enemy (48 page)

Men hurled themselves down into the cog to fight the mots, but it was already too late. Flames were licking up from the hold, the fumes of paraffin caught with a dull boom, and a blue ball of fire rose and ignited
Grampus's
main foresail. Flames engulfed the cog, and the men were forced to dive overboard and abandon her, still held fast to
Grampus's
side by the ram.

Ropes and yards were alight above, and tackle fell with a crash as the sails burned.
Grampus
became a scene out of hell, as hundreds hurled themselves into the sea to avoid the spreading conflagration.

Shark
and
Perch
returned, and every boat was summoned from the fleet hovering outside the bay. But nothing could save
Grampus
herself, and she burned to the waterline, while the boats continued plying to and from the shore bringing off the army.

Unfortunately the process was slowed by the long trips back and forth to the fleet, waiting outside the bay. By the early light of dawn there were still two hundred men trapped on the beach.

The enemy moved forward immediately, and a hail of arrows and stones fell on the doomed rear guard. Then for a moment it stopped, and a voice called clearly and loudly for their surrender, in perfect Shashti.

But the warriors of Shasht did not surrender.

There was a long moment of hesitation, and then the enemy moved forward with a rush. The fight was short and horrid and ended with the mots overwhelming the ring of men, pulling them down while dozens of spears thrust home.

They already had sullen, uncooperative prisoners. They had decided to take no more of them.

Out on the fleet the disaster was still being tallied up.

"I have a list of sixteen hundred dead and eighteen hundred with wounds."

"Does that count the women from
Grampus
!"

"No. Nor the women from
Growler
."

Heuze stared across his stateroom at the eerily beautiful rug on the wall. The bright ochre birds chased the evil-looking beetles in such a merry manner. He felt a strong urge to scream and smash things.

Two yellow tops had summoned him to visit Nebbeggebben aboard
Hammer
, the royal heir's flagship. The Hand were waiting for him over there.

Simona was shocked by how many bodies there were, laid out in neat rows along the top of the beach. Mostly they were men, stripped of armor, weapons, even their boots and sandals, but among them were the women who had drowned. Many had a strangely peaceful look about them, as if they'd died in their sleep and not drowned in the cold waters of an alien land. The men, on the other hand, were often open-eyed, faces still imprinted with the final agony, exhibiting every kind of wound. Simona had often thought about the things her father dealt with in his work; here she confronted it. It was simply horrifying.

She was violently ill on the sand after the first disemboweled corpse, but after that she just paused and squeezed her eyes shut when she saw something particularly awful. Thru Gillo helped her with a steadying hand at the worst times.

It was the strangest day in her life, she thought, and she'd seen some strange ones indeed, since that fishing boat had plucked her from the sea.

All her life had been lived inside a bubble of safety, until Filek Biswas had been cast into the expeditionary force. Aboard the
Growler
she'd learned a lot of awful lessons. And then when she'd tried to kill herself a whole new set of lessons had been laid before her.

It was the first daytime she'd been outside since that rescue. The sky felt huge, the land enormous and green. The city was both familiar and yet alien, with tall houses of stone and slate roofs, but all so strangely designed compared to classical Shasht.

"How do you keep the streets so clean?" she'd said to Thru, as they went through the city. There were eyes everywhere, but in her hooded cloak, she drew little interest from the passing throngs.

"In the city, I don't know, it's probably someone's job. I don't know if a Guild controls it or not. In the villages everybody helps clean up all the time. A few lazybones are always a problem, but mors are quick to let them know about their bad ways."

"Where are the slaves?" she said next.

He stared at her blankly. She had to explain what a "slave" was.

"We have no slaves."

She was stunned into silence the rest of the way. Thru asked her several times if she was all right, because it wasn't like her to be so quiet.

And now, standing on the top of the beach, she understood that the battle had been a disaster for the colony expedition. She had never imagined that the men of Shasht could be defeated like this.

She looked at every face, searching for Filek or Rukkh, pointing out the handful of men wearing purple or red tunics, signs of high rank.

"I'm sorry that you had to see this," said Thru, as they came to the end of the ordeal. Neither Rukkh nor Filek was among the dead, for which she was endlessly thankful.

"My father was not there, nor was the admiral, so either they are still in the water or they got away."

"There are some bodies still afloat, but not many now. Later, if you like, we can look at them."

"Thank you. I would like to. Not knowing is terrible. And thank you for being so kind to me, Thru Gillo. You have helped me enormously in this ordeal."

She took his hand and pressed it between hers. It was like a man's hand, virtually identical except for the smooth fur that covered the back of hand and fingers.

"You are not responsible for any of this," he said. "You deserve our help."

She turned back to the dead and muttered a prayer for their souls.
Take care of your worshipers Great God! Keep their souls warm by your fire, Orbazt Subuus!

"Maybe the fleet will go home now," she said, convinced the colony was utterly defeated.

"Would you like that? To go home?"

"I don't know. My father told me that if we went home the entire colony would be sold into slavery. The Emperor would have no mercy on failures.

"It's horrible," she said through clenched teeth. "So many dead; why did there have to be war?"

"I don't know. Why did your people's ships come here?"

Simona gave a sad shrug. "The Emperor decreed that we should send out colony missions into the world. Our land is worn-out. It is not like this in Shasht." She gestured to the trees that covered the headland, recalling the sun-baked rocky hills of home.

"How many dead are there of my people?" she said after a moment.

"Two thousand, one hundred thirty-three, so far."

It was like a physical blow. More than two thousand dead. On top of the plague, it would have reduced them by more than a third.

"And, how many of your own folk?"

"Seventeen hundred eighty dead, and more who will die of their wounds."

She grimaced. What a slaughter for such a narrow, stony beach. "It is all so stupid, so horrible. Why did they send us here to destroy you?"

He looked away for a moment.

"We thought that was what Man would always do. In our memory, Man the Cruel looms large."

"What do you mean by Man-the-Cruel?"

He looked away again, remembering the piled-up heads at Bilauk.

"It is difficult to talk about. I will show you the Great Book. It tells the story as we understand it."

"The Assenzi said you were raised up by the ancient men of Highnoth. Long, long ago, before the ice. The priests teach us that the Great God took over the world and vomited up the first men. The men then vomited up the first woman, and they took turns with her and she brought forth many children and they are the ancestors of the Shashti people."

Thru's eyebrows lofted as he listened to her.

"We have never heard of the Great God. We listen to the Spirit, but that message is a gentle one."

Simona gave a somber little laugh.

"That is not the way of Orbazt Subuus, He Who Eats!"

Thru's eyebrows bobbed up and down.

"This god of yours is filled with rage. So are your people. We wonder what they have done that has made them so angry. If this god is such a great god, why does he need to kill anyone who forsakes him? Why does he need anyone to kill anyone for that matter? Why should such a great god demand to be worshiped? If he is the great god, then he will be worshiped anyway, surely?"

She laughed. "You should be allowed to put those questions to the priests yourself. I, for one, would love to witness that encounter!"

But she knew that the only encounter the priests would accept would involve tying poor Thru over an altar and ripping his beating heart from his chest as an offering for He Who Eats.

"Come," said Thru, "the Assenzi wish to speak with you."

They made their way back to the south gate. The mots and brilbies who held the allotments were all at work repairing the damage done during the fighting. Simona was unused to being outdoors in ordinary society, and seeing this army of mots and mors at work she was struck again by the enormous difference with Shasht society. At home this work would have been done by slaves.

"What will you do with all of us?" she asked Thru at one point.

"Who do you mean?"

"The prisoners." Earlier she had examined the men taken prisoner. There were almost a hundred of them, and they'd been herded briefly into a courtyard so she could look down at them from a window above without being seen. The experience with Uisbank had convinced her captors that it was not wise to allow her to be seen by any of the men.

"I don't know," said Thru, honestly. "I expect the Assenzi will have an idea. Maybe they will take you to Highnoth."

"Where is that? You mentioned this place before."

"It is many days' march north of here, hundreds of miles."

"And that is where the Assenzi live?"

"Yes."

"What would they do to us there?"

"I don't know exactly. But the men are not cooperative and we cannot send them back, because they would only be given new weapons, so we may have to kill them."

That shook her for a moment. He sounded so calm about the impending slaughter.

"I suppose," she said quietly. And she asked herself, what other choice did they have, than to keep the men chained up for the rest of their lives? "What about imprisoning them?"

"That is being considered. Some grumble that your people have already cost ours too much. Easier to kill them and bury them and make some field fertile."

"And what do you think, Thru Gillo?"

"I would send you all to Highnoth."

On the way back through the city streets Simona observed the city up close for the first time. Shutters painted in bright red or brown were serried up and down the streets.

The squares and plazas were all small by Shashti standards, but the buildings were graceful and rarely overbearing. The Guild Hall was a large place, with turrets and towers of a most antique appearance to her eyes. There were a lot of trees and shrubs in the gardens at intersections. It was very unlike Shasht in that way.

The royal palace was almost invisible from within the city, since it was a fortified extension of the city wall. She knew that it was a palace because she'd been told, but the corridors and rooms she'd seen had been small and plainly furnished. But she had also seen works of art hanging on the walls of important rooms. Incredible pieces, often strong in color, that she knew would fetch a fortune at auction in Shasht City.

She was ushered into the room where she had met the Assenzi. All three were present. Utnapishtim held out a tiny scroll.

"Simona, we have decided that you must go back to your people."

For the second time that day she was stunned. This really was the strangest day of her life!

"But why? They will kill me."

"There is a risk of that, we agree." Utnapishtim looked over to the other two Assenzi; the one that always wore a blue cap nodded thoughtfully.

"But you will bear a message from us, and we think the message will protect you."

"Who will I give this message to?"

"Take this scroll. It is addressed to Karnemin."

"I have never heard this name."

"Understandably, but we believe the message will reach him nonetheless."

"And this message will protect me?"

"We think so."

"Will it stop this war?"

"Perhaps. It is worth trying. We think they will send you back to Shasht with the message."

"Oh that would be good. If they don't kill me back there."

"I'm afraid we cannot be sure about that. But we must make every effort to try and stop this killing."

She nodded slowly. There was no choice.

The meeting place was on a spit of land about six miles south of Dronned. Stunted pine forest competed with incredibly gnarled oak trees for the available ground. The woods were alive with wildlife. Simona was startled by the number of deer and elk she saw. Once they came out of a thicket onto a meadow and counted eleven whitetails bounding away toward the far side. Another time they surprised an immense flock of ducks, which took to the air above a quite unremarkable pond. Wild ducks had been hunted close to extinction in Shasht.

Thru walked just ahead of her. They were alone, as requested by the message from the admiral of the fleet. Watching his back, Simona realized she was going to miss her daily lessons in the language of the Land, which were also Thru's lessons in Shashti. She had become used to life among the mots.

At the next turn of the trail the sea became visible in a wide, blue expanse. Her heart quailed for a moment at the thought of what lay ahead. She stopped and laid a hand on a tree and rested her head against her forearm. She just hoped she could find the strength to endure whatever was going to happen to her.

Oh God, her father! He was going to be so angry with her. And he had every right. She was a selfish girl who wanted what was best for her, not for him and his ambitions. A girl who had tried to kill herself.

Thru came back and put a hand on her shoulder. "You are strong enough, Simona. I know this."