Demontech: Gulf Run (22 page)

“Well …” Haft spread his hands. “It was self-defense.” He quickly moved on. “There was a good officer in Eikby,” he allowed. “But he got killed in the defense of the town.”

“He’d been a sergeant in the Easterlies before he retired to become captain of guards at Eikby,” Phard explained with a touch of pride in his voice.

“We do have a lieutenant from Penston, but he’s too demoralized to be of use as an officer,” Geatwe added.

“Very interesting,” Rammer said after the explanation. He chuckled again. “It is sergeants, after all, who really run armies.” Then: “This is quite a large following you two have. How did it happen?”

“They’ve sort of accreted,” Spinner said, not wanting to admit that so many people had chosen him and Haft to protect them and lead them to safety.

“It’s a long story, Sergeant,” Haft said. “But tell us, how did you escape?”

Rammer shook his head. “I still don’t quite understand what happened,” he said solemnly, then looked like he was considering a question. “Does everybody here speak Frangerian?”

“I think so,” Haft answered. He
thought
that he sometimes talked to everyone in the tent in the common trading language. But Alyline didn’t, and neither did Mearh.

“I think everyone’s stronger in Zobran,” Spinner said, looking around for confirmation. He nodded at the replies, then said, “Zobran.”

“All right, Zobran it is, then,” Rammer said in that language. “We Marines and sea soldiers were all separated, spread out among the sailors so there weren’t two of us in any group.” He chuckled. “I guess the Jokapcul were afraid if they left us together we’d find a way to fight and defeat them.

“Anyway, my group—a score of sailors who spoke half a dozen different languages, in not all of which I knew the basics—”

“What are the basics?” Doli interrupted.

Rammer looked at her carefully before answering. “The basics any soldier or sailor needs in a port of call are enough of the local language to find food, drink, lodging, and a woman for the night.” He watched her for a moment until he was satisfied she wasn’t too flustered by his answer, then continued.

“My group, twenty squids and a ship’s supercargo who spoke some strange Kondive Island dialect, was being transferred at night from a town square to a guarded warehouse. There were no guards outside the warehouse, which the soldiers transporting us evidently thought was strange. They stopped us in the street while two of them went inside. When they didn’t come back out right away, another went in to look for them. That left only two guards on us. Suddenly, they were dropped by arrows, and three civilians ran out of a nearby alley and barred the warehouse door, locking the Jokapcul inside. Then they led us into the alley and away to a smithy, where the blacksmith and his apprentice broke our manacles. A doddery old man and a girl of maybe twelve were there. They led us by back ways to a dry channel under the city wall. The old man took one look and decided I was the leader. He told me there was a dry canal on the other side that would lead us to the forest. ’Come back soon,’ he said. He also said more prisoners would be freed by the night’s end.”

Spinner and Haft looked at each other when Rammer mentioned the old man and the girl.
Tiger
, they both mouthed, the old man and young girl who had helped them escape from New Bally.

“We waited inside the forest until two hours before dawn. Three more groups joined us, but none were Frangerian Marines. Nigh on half of the sailors didn’t want to wait, or preferred striking out on their own. There were near fifty of us when we set out east. A Ewsarkan sea soldier,” he nodded at Haft, who he knew was Ewsarkan, “a Kondivan, a Matildan, and the rest were squids.

“It was quite a job avoiding the Jokapcul, they were all over Bostia. We lost the Matildan and a dozen sailors by the time we reached Skragland.” He paused, remembering the men they’d lost crossing Bostia. “By then we were all armed. In Skragland we seemed to always be just ahead of Jokapcul who were moving inland, and there were times we had to go to ground for a week or two.

“I saw right away that trying to cross the Eastern Waste in winter was a bad idea, so we headed south through eastern Skragland and Zobra to the root of the Princedon Peninsula. There, we cut across, straight to Dartmutt.” Spinner and Haft looked at each other again; it hadn’t been so obvious to them that crossing the Eastern Waste in winter was such a bad idea, they’d had to find out the hard way. “We got there in time to see the Jokapcul invasion. So we went north, then east.”

Rammer grinned. “And then who should we run into?” During his telling, Silent and Wolf quietly crowded into the tent. When Phard and Geatwe shifted to make room for the new arrivals, Rammer turned his head to see who had come in. To his credit, he didn’t pause in his narrative while he looked appraisingly at the giant for a moment and calmly let Wolf sniff him.

“How many of you are there now?” Fletcher asked.

“About a hundred and fifty fighting men, most of whom have their families with them.” He quirked a smile. “Some of the squids who came from New Bally with me were pretty unhappy about becoming soldiers.” He shrugged. “It balanced out. They now have women of their own, and some have adopted families.

“So tell me about you,” Rammer said.

Spinner and Haft made short work of their narrative—or they tried to. Except for Xundoe as many as could fit of the members of the company who had been with them since before Eikby were crammed into the tent. They took turns filling in whenever they thought the telling was too short.

Rammer raised his eyebrows at the coincidence that the old man and young girl who had led him and his sailors to the channel under the New Bally walls had done the same for these two, then nodded and murmured, “That explains a lot,” when they told him the old man had been a Frangerian sea soldier in the days before Lord Gunny. Fletcher and Zweepee supplied far more detail about the Burnt Man Inn than either Spinner or Haft was comfortable with—the details made them sound like some kind of heroes, which they knew they weren’t. He whistled when Silent told how the two had fought the trio of Jokapcul swordsmen and three lancers at the border, and Spinner defeated the Jokapcul officer even though he was weak from loss of blood. “I finally believe in that stick of yours,” he said, when Silent was through. When they told about the battle against the Jokapcul troop, where they’d first met Xundoe, he said, “I want to meet this war wizard of yours.” The Eikby story, which was mostly told by Fletcher, Zweepee, and the sergeants, impressed him. “I’ve always maintained that a nineteen-year-old junior Marine is the most dangerous person in the world. I think you two proved that in Eikby.”

At that, Spinner hoped the blush in his dusky face didn’t show clearly in the lamplight. Haft grinned, blew on his fingernails, and buffed them on his shirt.

When the telling was done, Rammer became all business. “We’re together again now, we’ll join forces. Between us, we have close to a thousand soldiers and fighting men. If we pretend that’s a regiment, we can call both of you battalion commanders—you’ll both pull double duty on my staff— What?” He looked around. The atmosphere in the tent had suddenly turned tense. His eyes barely widened when he saw Sergeants Phard, Geatwe, and Mearh with their hands on their weapons, ready to draw them.

Fletcher cleared his throat and spoke politely but firmly. “Sergeant Rammer, we all understand that you were formerly Spinner and Haft’s commander. And you have gathered your own force, so I assume those men are loyal to you. There are most certainly strong personal loyalties on this side. We have more than four times as many soldiers and other fighters as you do. Nearly all of them have fought the Jokapcul and lost under their previous commanders. Many of them have fought the Jokapcul under the leadership of these two,” he nodded toward Spinner and Haft, “and won. They know they can win fights with the commanders they have. But they have no idea who you are.

“It’s much the same with the people. Everyone who joined us before we reached Dartmutt knows that these men protect them better than anybody else has. They don’t know that you can protect them.

“What do you think will happen to morale if the commanders who have led them to victory in battle, and provided security from the invaders, are abruptly replaced by a stranger?”

“I like these two,” Silent rumbled. “I don’t know you.”

“My men and I follow Sir Haft,” Sergeant Phard said menacingly. “All the Bloody Axes do. And where the Bloody Axes lead, the other Skraglanders follow.”

“The Prince’s Swords have sworn allegiance to Lord Spinner,” said Sergeant Geatwe. “The Royal Lancers go with us.”

“The Border Warders and Borderers also follow Haft,” Zweepee put in.

The others also spoke for one or another unit, all saying they followed Spinner and Haft, not Rammer. Wolf lowered his head and growled.

All but Alyline.

“These two kidnapped me and sent my sothar player away,” she said bitterly, referring to Spinner and Haft. “I should look on you as a savior, rescuing me from my kidnappers.” Her hair swirled in a golden cloud when she shook her head. “But I don’t. If Mudjwohl still lives, I know I can get these two to find him and restore my life. Can you do that for me? I doubt it.”

“So we don’t join forces,” Rammer said coldly. “How are you going to explain that when you get back to Frangeria? You are going back, aren’t you?”

Spinner grimaced and Haft looked aside.

“Yes, we’re going back,” Spinner said softly. He sighed. “I think it’s a mistake if we don’t join forces.”

“I’m glad you see that much. But I’m your commander.”

“I’m sorry, Sergeant Rammer,” Haft said sadly, “but not many of our people will go along with that. The three of us would have to leave and go on our own.”

“You go nowhere without the Bloody Axes,” Phard said sharply.

“And no one else commands us.” Geatwe echoed him for the Prince’s Swords.

Haft turned his hands out helplessly.

“We’re going to the same place, we need to go together,” Spinner insisted.

“I agree with you,” Rammer said seriously. “But me being under your command will be awkward. And what effect will that have on discipline when we get back to Frangeria?”

“Oh, no, Sergeant Rammer, it won’t be any problem when we get back. There we’re just a couple of pea ons, and you’re our detachment commander,” they hurried to reassure him.

“It’s just that here,” Haft said, grinning, “everybody wants us to be in command.”

Rammer stood up, jammed his fists onto his hips, and dropped his chin to his chest, lost in thought. After a long moment he raised his head. His face was steely and his eyes harsh as he looked from Spinner to Haft and back. “All right,” he said slowly, deliberately, the voice of a very dangerous man who was attempting to avoid conflict but wasn’t going to accept less than his due, “I understand. These are your people. They are here because of you, they follow your lead and none other. That’s the way they want it.” He paused to give them an opportunity to speak.

Haft shot a quick glance at Spinner, who nibbled at his lower lip. Neither spoke.

“I am the most experienced military man here,” Rammer continued when he saw neither had anything to say. Neither did the other sergeants, who may in fact have been in their armies longer than he’d been a Frangerian Marine. “What job do you have for me? Commander of an autonomous unit moving with you is not a good idea, we need unified command.”

“Oh, well!” Haft sat more erect, relieved that conflict was avoided, his mind abuzz in an attempt to come up with a better job for their former detachment commander.

“Well?” Rammer asked stiffly. “Captain of archers?”

Spinner sighed. Rammer was a most excellent crossbowman, but … “Our archers mostly use longbows,” he said. “Fletcher is the best longbowman I’ve ever seen. If we had an archer company, he’d be its captain.”

Fletcher cocked an eyebrow—this was the first he’d heard of that.

“I see,” Rammer said flatly. “I have far more shore experience than you do. And I was a hunter before I joined the Frangerian Marines. Captain of scouts, then?”

“Jatke was a hunter too,” Spinner said, a touch of uncertainty in his voice, “right up to when he joined us. His experience is more recent than yours. He’s captain of scouts.”

Rammer laughed harshly. “I evaded Jokapcul columns and patrols all the way across a continent until a few hours ago. Jatke’s experience is more recent than mine?”

Spinner grimaced. Haft looked away.

Rammer leaned forward and planted a fist on each of the field desks of his two former men. With his face close to them, he said softly, ominously, “I’m the most valuable soldier you have in this camp. Even more than you. What job do you have for me?”

Spinner and Haft looked at each other. They knew how important Rammer could be to them and their ragtag army. But what position could they give him that wouldn’t threaten their command and sow discontent among the troops?

Spinner dropped his eyes as he thought and his gaze fell on his copy of
Lord Gunny Says
. Ragtag, that was it!

“Training commander,” he said, looking up. “Sergeant Rammer, it’s what you said, you’re the most experienced man here. You know more about fighting and war than anybody else. Certainly more than us.” He gestured to include himself and Haft. “Most of our men have experience in one or another army, and we have some very experienced sergeants. But nobody has anywhere near the experience you do. What we most need is someone who can train them to be good soldiers.”

“Right!” Haft’s eyes lit up as soon as Spinner said “training commander.” He was almost bouncing with excitement on his stool. “We don’t expect you to turn them into Marines, of course, that would be asking too much of any one man. But, yes, training commander! That’s what we need, and you could really do it. Why, I remember how you drilled us on the
Sea Horse
.”

Rammer removed his fists from the desks and straightened. “Training commander.” He turned and looked at the others. The sergeants were grinning. They agreed that training commander was a serious need, and they thought a Frangerian Marine sergeant was an excellent choice to fill it. Fletcher looked relieved and Silent amused. Wolf sat on his haunches with his tongue lolling out of his mouth. “Yes, I can see proper training is needed here.” He nodded. “I did a tour on the training field at Camp Gray,” the Frangerian Marine recruit training base. He looked at them sharply. “What makes you think I can’t turn these—these men into Marines?”