By the Sword (24 page)

“But if we do, we get the same dream over and over?” At Kethry's nod, Daren grimaced. “Pretty effective way of getting someone to break the pattern.”

“Evidently the builders of this Tower thought so.” Kethry patted him on the shoulder in a very motherly fashion, turned and vanished back through the heavy wooden door leading to her workroom.

Daren sighed, and turned back to Kero. “Will it help to say that I've been a blockhead and I apologize?”

She considered him with her head tilted to one side for a moment. “Will it help to tell you I've been just as pigheaded as you?”

He smiled. “It's a start.”

“Good,” she replied. “Let's build on that.” Then she laughed, feeling a burden lifting from her mind. “Besides, I'd do a lot more than just apologize to avoid another two days like the past two!”

But Warrl was destined to have the last word, although he was nowhere in sight.

:It's about time,:
said a sardonic voice in her mind.
Humans!:

If Daren wondered why she was choking on her porridge, trying not to laugh, he was too polite to ask.

Kero studied the sand-table, the terrain laid out in miniature, the tokens that stood for civilians, stock, fighting men and women.
Bloodless warfare,
she thought to herself.
All the fighting reduced to numbers. Is that how generals see us?

Had it been a year since that quarrel with Daren? It must have been, since it was winter again. Tarma had gradually begun teaching them other things; strategy and supply, tactics and organization. Every daylight hour was spent in some kind of study; from their weapons' practices to reading the fragmentary accounts of the wars of the ancients. Even their “leisure” hours usually had something to do with their studies.

“All right,” Tarma said, leaning over the sand-table. She indicated the tokens that represented the enemy forces, tokens she had just put in place. “There're the opposing forces. What have you got, Daren?”

He studied his tokens, cupped in the palm of his hand, and placed them carefully in the sand. “Five companies of foot, one of horse, one of specialists. In country like that, the horse is useless.” He placed a token with a painted horse's head on it behind the “lines.” “I need another company of foot and two of specialists if I'm going to hold you off. Mountain fighters, irregulars, if I can get them.”

“Which means you hire. Kero, what have you got for him to hire?” Tarma leaned over the table, resting her weight on her hands, and watched Kerowyn through narrowed eyes.

She represented the Mercenary Guild and the free-swords. “According to the list you gave me, he can get what he wants, but he's going to have to make some choices.” She studied the roster, and wondered what he was going to pick—and what his resources would bear. She didn't know what he had to draw on; Tarma did, but while she was playing the enemy, she would pretend she didn't know.

He studied his handful of papers again. “So, what are my options?” he asked her.

“First, there's a full bonded Company of foot, they're at-hire, and their base is within three days' march of your position; you'll have to send a messenger across the Border, though, so I hope your relations are good with King Warrl over there.” She grinned at the
kyree,
who was playing all the neutrals in this little game.

:I'll think about it,:
Warrl replied genially.
:Depends on what nice present he sends me.:

Kero grinned; she knew Daren couldn't hear the kyree, which made Ward's comments all the more amusing. Daren consulted his list again. “I can afford to send him a bribe of some fine beef-stud stock under pretense of a trade mission. That's in my private holdings and won't make me raise taxes.”

Warrl laid his ears back and looked hurt.
:Bribes? How crude. I don't know
... well,
I suppose I must, crude or not.:
He stood on his hindlegs, put his forepaws on the edge of the table, and nudged the little flag that signified “clear passage.”

“Thanks, your majesty.” Daren studied his sheaf of papers with a frown on his face. “All right, I can pay for the foot Company with surplus in the treasury. So what about these irregular fighters?”

“That's where you get the choice,” she told him. “You can either hire two more bonded Companies, you can hire one bonded Company and one free-lance, or you hire the free-lance Company and set up recruiting posts and hire enough free-lancers to put another temporary Company together. The bonded Company will work with the free-lance Company, but not with a put-together force. There's more than enough of the individual free-lancers in your area. Free-lancers would be cheaper, about half the cost of Companies the same size.” She looked up at him. “That's the first time I recall Tarma giving us that option. She's always had bonded Companies in the game, no free-lancers.”

“Quite true,” Tarma replied, nodding. “You've gotten used to those options. Time to spice up the game with a little more reality. By the time you need them, Daren, bonded Companies will usually have been hired by someone else.”

Daren pursed his lips. “Hmm. The treasury is getting mighty lean ... Tarma, what's the difference between free-lancers and a bonded Company?”

“Free-lancers are just that: individual hire-swords. Some of them may have bought into a Company, some may be totally on their own. They're cheaper because they haven't posted bond with the Mercenary Guild.” She stood up, and Kero noticed her flinching a little.

:Thank you,:
Warrl said softly into her mind.

“Kero, did you say some of those free-lancers were a Company, or am I dealing entirely with individuals?” Daren asked. “I don't want to hire individuals; it would take too much time to get them coordinated and I'd have to detail one of my own officers to command them. According to these notes, I don't have that kind of time, and I don't think I have an officer to spare. And besides, I know I remember you saying that the bonded Company won't work with something just thrown together.”

Kero looked at the list again. “One Company, the rest on their own.”

Daren winced. “Well, I'll be hiring one bonded Company, anyway. Now, what's the difference between a free-lance Company and a bonded Company?”

Tarma licked her lips. “It's easier to tell you what free-lancers aren't. A bonded Company has posted a pretty hefty bond with the Mercenary Guild, on top of the individual dues each hire-sword's paid into the Guild. What that means is that they have to follow the Guild Mercenary Code. If they violate that code, the Guild pays the injured party damages, then takes it out of the bond. Then they take it out of the offending party's hide, and they are not gentle, let me tell you! And if you violate your contract, the Guild will fine you, and you won't be able to hire bonded fighters for at least a year. Maybe more, depending on the severity of the offense.”

“What's this ‘Code,' anyway?” Kero asked. “You've never mentioned that before. You've talked about the Guild code of conduct for individuals, but not a Company code.”

“It's pretty simple. Whatever is in the terms of the contract is followed by both parties, to the letter. Bonded Companies do not pillage in the countryside of their employer, and pillage only in enemy territory with permission of the employer. That takes care of cutting your own throat in a civil war.” Tarma looked at both of them. “Can you figure out why?”

Kero was marginally quicker. “Easy; if you keep everybody on your side from looting, the locals are going to come over to you, and that's going to make big problems for the opposition if they aren't doing the same.”

“Good. And really, what's the point of wrecking your own tax base? All right; if a bonded Company or one of its members surrenders, they are permitted to leave the battlefield unmolested and report to a neutral point. They'll get ransomed by the Guild; that's why the individual members pay their dues every year. You know about the individual Code, so I won't go into that.” Tarma leaned against the sand-table. “They won't switch sides in mid-contract, they won't follow a mutiny against their employer, they won't fight a suicide-cause, but they'll do their damnedest to get their employer out of a bad situation in one piece. Because of the twin Codes, bonded Companies are more reliable and trustworthy than unbonded. That's why they're expensive.”

Daren examined the table again. “I've got a bad situation here. I think maybe I'd better take out a loan, or go find a buyer for some Crown properties and go the distance for two bonded Companies.”

“What would you do if I set up the situation like this?” Tarma moved two of her counters away and placed them farther along the Border.

Daren studied the table again. “Hire one bonded and one free-lance, and see if I couldn't negotiate with my neutral neighbor to take a stand. Those two Companies are threatening his territory, too.”

“Good. What about this?” She pulled the counters off the table entirely.

“The bonded foot and the free-lance guerrillas. Then I'd arrange things this way—” He set up his counters against hers, accepting the two mercenary counters from Kerowyn. “—and I'd put the free-lancers right here. They're not going to pillage my countryside because that's all rocky hillside; once I move the sheepherders out, there's nothing there to pillage, which means every profitable move for them to make will be against the enemy and not against me.” He moved around the table, and looked at the situation from Tarma's angle. “What's more, they can't mutiny, they're on the end of the supply line and all I have to do is cut them off. I think they're relatively safe to trust there.”

Tarma studied his setup, and smiled, slowly. “Excellent. Let's play this and see how it runs. Kero? The first move is yours.”

Kero had the most interesting time of it; according to Tarma's profile sheets, the free-lance guerrillas were a newly-formed Company, and fairly unreliable, but the bonded foot were an old, established Company with a nice subgroup of scouts that made up for the deficiencies of the free-lancers. And Daren had set up a situation in which the very worst that could happen would be the free-lancers deserting; with a howling wilderness between them and civilization, they were, Kero judged, less inclined to do that. They played the game out over the course of two hours, and in the end, Daren's side won. During that time he'd even found the bribe that would bring Warrl in on his side, so the victory cost him less than he'd feared.

“Good, all the way around,” Tarma applauded. “I'm proud of you both. Daren, did you see why Kero's Companies did what they did?”

“Pretty much, though I was kind of surprised at the versatility of the foot.” He smiled over at Kero, who returned it, feeling warmed by it.

“That's one thing you'll often find in a good bonded Company; they've trained together with many weapons, and they have their own support groups.” Tarma yawned. “Even the best Companies have gotten shafted now and again; the Guild imposes fines, but that's after the damage has been done. That's why they like to have everything they need under their own control.”

“Well, those two extra hedge-wizards may have saved the day.” Daren yawned, too, and Kero fought to keep herself from echoing it. It had been a long day, but a good one. This victory against Tarma on the sand-table had been the dessert to the meal; they didn't often win against her.

“I'm off to bed, children,” the Shin‘a'in said, blowing out the extra lanterns, leaving only the four set onto the comers of the table for light. “Savor your victory; I'll get you tomorrow.”

“No doubt,” Kero laughed. “So far you've beaten us five games out of seven.”

“Keeps you on your toes,” the Shin‘a'in retorted on her way out the door. Warrl grinned at them, and padded after her.

Kero collected the tokens, while Daren smoothed out the sand in the table. “Good game,” he said, handing her a token that had gotten half-buried in the sand. “You know, it's a lot more fun being your friend than your enemy.”

“In the game, or in general?” she teased.

“Both.” He put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her. She returned the hug—but there was a different feeling about the way he held onto her tonight, keeping her close a breath or two longer than he usually did, sliding his hands down her arms before letting her go.

“Tired?” he asked, something in his voice telling her than he hoped she'd say “no.”

“Not really.” She put the flags and tokens away in a drawer under the table, and looked up at him expectantly. She wasn't tired, either—not with him looking at her the way he was. “Feel like talking a while?” she asked hopefully, her muscles tensing a little with anticipation. Was she reading more into his words than was really there?

“If you don't mind.” It wasn't her imagination, there was an odd light in his eyes, an appreciative glint she'd been seeing quite a bit, lately. “Your room or mine?”

“Yours,” she said. “It's cleaner.” She laughed, but the way he kept watching her was sending an oddly exciting chill up her spine. She stretched, and came close to giggling at the way his eyes widened. She blew out the rest of the lanterns, and headed for the door.

“Only marginally,” he replied—but instead of letting her precede him, he caught her hand in his as she walked past him.