Demontech: Gulf Run (40 page)

Three of the Skraglanders were among the dead, though, along with too many men of Company B. None of the Jokapcul had survived.

“Lord Haft,” Lieutenant Krysler said, interrupting his inspection of the dead. “What do you want to do about the prisoners?”

“Prisoners?” Haft blinked and looked around. He didn’t see any live Jokapcul.

“In the cages, Lord Haft.”

Memory of why they had attacked the Jokapcul instead of passing them by jolted Haft with enough force to stagger him back a step. How could he have forgotten? “Free them,” he ordered. “Wait, I’ll come with you.” He turned to look for one of the Zobran officers and saw Lieutenant Guma of the Royal Lancers.

“Guma!”

“Lord Haft.” Guma marched over and thumped a fist to his chest in salute.

“See to security here,” Haft told him. “Everything else looks under control.” He kept himself from looking to where Spinner lay, to where he
didn’t
know everything was under control. “I’m taking Company A to free the prisoners.”

“Yes, lord.”

Haft twisted about and marched away. Phard and Krysler were at his sides, shouting orders to the Skraglanders of Company A.

“Send a runner to the rest of the company, let them know what’s happening and tell them to look alert to the west,” Haft told Phard. “And another to the caravan. There are women, children, and oldsters here. We need women to help them.” He looked at the cages. “They’ll need food as well.”

Phard turned away to hide his grin; yes, Sir Haft was turning into a fine commander. He might sometimes pretend that he didn’t know what the rampant eagle on the blade of his axe meant, but he was truly one of them.

They freed the women, children, and oldsters first—their cages were nearest. Many of them were frightened and cowered in the back of their cages rather than crawl out into freedom. Others eagerly came out and fell upon their rescuers with hugs and kisses and cries of joy.

They were a pathetic group. They were filthy; they hadn’t been allowed to bathe in a very long while. Nor had they been allowed access to privies; they’d been forced to void into buckets that were infrequently emptied by prisoners assigned to the so-called honey-bucket duty.

“It’s a wonder they haven’t had an epidemic,” Haft snarled.

“How do you know they haven’t?” Phard asked softly.

“Because there are too many of them still alive.”

All the prisoners showed signs of starvation, with an almost exact correspondence between their degree of malnourishment and their dirtiness—some had been held captive longer than others. It wasn’t clear through the dirt that covered them, but Haft was certain he saw bruises on many of them. He
knew
he saw scars and healing recent wounds—along with wounds that festered.

“Get healers here,” he ordered. “See to their injuries.”

The nearest caged soldiers saw the civilians being freed and began calling out to their liberators. Soldiers farther away took up the cry.

“Send the Kingsmen to begin freeing them,” Haft told Phard. “Tell them to organize the first ones they free into squads and have them help uncage the rest. I want the Kingsmen to gather all of them into squads and platoons.”

Haft turned at the sound of horses galloping from the north and saw a dozen mounted women rapidly approaching. Zweepee was in the lead. He waved at her and she veered toward him. She didn’t object when Phard reached up and helped her off her horse.

“Gods,” Zweepee murmured. “There are so many of them!”

“More than three hundred here,” Haft agreed. “Half of them are afraid to come out of the cages. And many more soldiers to the west.”

Zweepee looked at the other women, who had reined in and dismounted. “Tell them we have food coming, and healers to tend their injuries.” She looked at Haft for confirmation.

He nodded and replied, “I already sent for them.”

“Get them in groups and have them sit down,” Zweepee told the women. “Do it now.” She watched them hurry off, then looked into the cages at the people who hadn’t come out.

“More women are coming in wagons, along with food for these poor souls.” She said it so softly she might have been reassuring herself. Then, more loudly, “Where are the wells?”

Haft and Phard looked at each other; neither had thought of wells and neither remembered having seen any.

Zweepee punched her fists into her hips and leaned toward them. Somehow, she seemed to tower over the two men, though she stood half a head shorter than Haft and more than a full head shorter than Phard.

“How do you expect us to clean their injuries and cook their food without water?”

Spinning away from her, as much to hide his suddenly red face as to look toward the Bloody Axes who were still trying to coax the frightened people out of their cages. Haft yelled to the Bloody Axes, “Listen up! Has anybody seen a well? We need water for these people.”

There was a long pause as the soldiers looked at each other and around for a well—none had seen one—before a newly freed woman cried out, “I saw them bring water from over there.” She pointed into the trees to the north.

Suddenly, many people were pointing and yelling that they’d seen the Jokapcul carrying water buckets. They pointed in the general direction of the trees.

Haft hung his head for a few seconds, then looked up. “Send a few men to find the well, Captain.”

“Yes, Sir Haft.” Phard roared, and a squad’s worth of Bloody Axes trotted into the trees. “If a well is there, they’ll find it, lady,” Phard said to Zweepee.

Zweepee looked at the number of people. “I hope they find more than one well.”

“I’ll have them keep looking,” Haft assured her. But he spoke to her back, for she was heading toward a nearby group of seated people.

“Where are those healers?” she called back over her shoulder.

“Here we are,” a mage answered. He and another, along with two healing witches, were coming from the east, where they’d been pulled away from the wounded soldiers they’d been tending. Assistants lugged chests bulging with herbs, potions, and healing demons.

“You take charge here,” Haft said to Phard. “I’m going to see how the Kingsmen are doing with the soldiers. Take care of anything else Zweepee needs that we didn’t think of.”

“Yes, Sir Haft,” Phard replied and saluted. He spent a few seconds watching Haft walk away and thought, Commander’s prerogative, leave someone else to deal with the difficulties, then shook it off. Things might be even more difficult in some ways with the soldiers.

They were.

As ill-treated as the civilians had been, at least they’d been allowed to keep all of their clothes. None of the soldiers wore more than an undergarment, and many not even that. Most of the soldiers were scarred, and many had recent injuries. They were as dirty as the freed civilians, and just as ripe for disease. From their ribs and knobby joints, Haft suspected they’d been fed even less than the civilians.

None of them had stayed in their cages. All had come out, even though some didn’t budge until ordered by Lieutenant Han or his sergeants or corporals. They sat in ranks. None of them resisted when the Kingsmen had gathered them into squads and platoons—some even formed with men from like units without being prompted. But despite their poor condition, not all of them looked defeated.

After Han related the relative ease with which the Kingsmen had organized the men, Haft told him to send a squad into the trees to search for wells.

“I already had men check,” Han replied. “A squad and the strongest of these men are getting water now.”

Haft nodded. “Good move, Lieutenant.”

Han barely blinked at being addressed as “Lieutenant.” He’d been an upper sergeant when he and his men joined the caravan, and he had made the adjustment to being an officer quickly enough, though he thought that as an upper sergeant he should have been made a captain over Phard or Geatwe, who were lower ranking sergeants before the reorganization that turned all of the sergeants and many of the corporals into officers. But he understood the reasoning of Spinner and Haft—the men they’d made captains had been with them for a time and fought the Jokapcul alongside them; Spinner and Haft didn’t know him.

“If you agree, Lord Haft,” he said, “we will use the fresh water only for drinking and cleaning wounds. The men can bathe in the surf.”

“Good thinking. Have swimmers stationed to rescue any of them who get in trouble in the water.”

“I will.”

“Have you started a roster yet? We’ll need to know what units these men were from and find the best way to integrate them into the battalion.”

“I thought I’d do that once they got cleaned up and we found some clothing for them.”

Haft looked toward the tents of the defeated Jokapcul. “Have you had anybody check inside the tents?”

Han nodded. “They found enough clothing—including uniforms from many armies—for most of these men. Maybe enough for all of them. I planned to clothe them after they bathe.”

“Good thinking again.” Haft looked at Han, impressed by how much he’d thought of and taken care of on his own. “I’ll be back to speak to these men once they’ve had time to get cleaned up and dressed. Tell them there’s food coming. Carry on.”

“Lord Haft.” Han gave the fist-to-chest salute.

A Bloody Axe stopped Haft before he reached the area that held the cages of the civilians. “Sir Haft,” he said hesitantly, “I can’t allow you to pass.”

“What?” Haft’s eyes widened in surprise.

“The Golden Lady, Sir Haft,” the Bloody Axe said with evident embarrassment. “The women are bathing. She said no men are allowed to come near.”

“Surely she didn’t mean me,” Haft said, and began to step around him.

The Bloody Axe sidestepped to stay in front of him. “Ah, Sir Haft?” His voice squeaked. “The Golden Lady named you specifically.” He paused to clear his throat. “Sir Haft, she said if I let you pass, she would roast my testicles over a fire.” He cleared his throat again. “Without first removing them.”

Haft blinked. Yes, he could believe Alyline had made such a threat. He could even imagine her carrying through on it. He cleared his own throat. “Well, we wouldn’t want that to happen, would we?” He gazed in the direction he thought the women might be bathing and, remembering how pathetic the freed women looked, muttered, “Probably none of them are worth looking at right now anyway.” Then, in a normal voice, “Did she say if I’m allowed to go anywhere?”

“Yes, Sir Haft,” the Bloody Axe said with great relief. “A kitchen has been set up over there.” He pointed into the trees. “She said you could go and inspect it.”

“Inspect the kitchen.” He shook his head. “All right, I’ll inspect the kitchen. Carry on.”

“Yessir! Thank you, Sir Haft,” the Bloody Axe said brightly. He’d been very worried about having to stop his own commander.

Haft blinked his eyes and shook his head sharply when he reached the “kitchen.” Men and older boys were busy digging a long row of shallow pits and building fires in them, or setting up a row of trestle tables along each side of the line of fire pits. Beyond the tables and fires the trees were filled with wagons. Women and girls, a hundred or more, were bustling back and forth between the wagons and the tables on that side of the fires, lugging foodstuffs and cooking utensils.

This is a kitchen? he thought. There were more than enough people and material to prepare food for two battalions! He dropped his head and thumped the heel of his hand against his forehead. Of course! They’d just freed more than two battalions worth of people, and they had their own soldiers to feed as well. They needed that many and that much to feed them.

He looked around to see who was in charge, who was there whom he knew, and a curious expression spread over his face. He didn’t recognize any of them, men or women!

He shook his head.
We’ve gotten big.
The realization struck him hard. He’d spent most of his time either with the caravan’s lead elements or with the small command group, rather than going from one end to the other of the growing caravan seeing people, meeting the new people who joined the caravan on its way around Dartmutt. He hadn’t realized until now just how many people were traveling with him and Spinner. And this was only a small part of the caravan!

So who was in charge of this kitchen? Would that person know who
he
was?

“Haft!”

He turned his head to the familiar voice and saw Doli scurrying toward him.

“Haft, where have you been?” she said before she reached him. “Where’s Spinner? We have so much to do here, so many people to feed—Alyline told me there are a thousand people out there who need feeding and then we have to feed our soldiers! I sent someone to find Zweepee because I know she’s with the people Spinner and you freed from the Jokapcul this morning. She’ll be able to tell me how many people there really are where’s Spinner? How are we supposed to feed all of these people—that’s going to take a lot of food—we need to send hunters out to find more meat are there any game animals in this forest, we need people foraging for fruits and vegetables and tubers does anybody know what is good to eat here where’s Spinner?” She paused to take a breath and Haft broke in.

“Are you in charge here?”

“What? Yes, I’m in charge of the kitchen—I have to get all these people fed—are they hungry—now where’s Spinner? I can arrange a serving line for the people to line up at the tables—”

“They’re too weak to line up.” Haft raised his voice to break through. “Doli, these people are very weak, they’ve been starved. Many of them are injured, some of them are sick. They aren’t going to line up, you’re going to have to serve them where they are.”

“Oh,” she said meekly.

“Do you have enough food for them? Is anyone getting water?”

“We have two wells right over there.” She waved a hand absently. “Where’s Spinner?”

“Is anybody out hunting? Is anybody gathering?”

“I—I don’t know. Where’s Spinner?”

Haft looked beyond her, into the trees, and saw people standing around among the wagons. “Put people to work gathering. Some of these people are Dartmutters, I’m sure some of them will know what to gather.” He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around. “Now go and do it.” He gave her a little push.