Galactic Bounty (27 page)

Over McCade's head a speaker crackled into life. "Welcome to Treehome. As soon as the demands of your machine are satisfied, Sir Knight, please join me for dinner. Your squires are welcome also."

McCade left the Treel to watch the crawler, and Phil to watch the Treel. He was also concerned about Phil's reception within the lodge. There was no way to predict Lif's reaction to the Variant.

Together, McCade, Rico, and Amos picked their way through the mud to the lodge under the watchful gaze of a small honor guard. With the emphasis on "guard," McCade thought with amusement. Together they mounted a flight of stairs leading up to intricately carved double doors where they were met by a uniformed major domo. The Baron certainly likes to do things with style, McCade reflected as they were shown into a large hall with vaulted ceilings. A log fire blazed at the far end of the huge room, its flickering light dancing across tapestry-hung walls. However the room's even temperature hinted at central heating. It seemed a comfortable marriage of old and new.

As they approached, Baron Lif rose to greet them. He had been seated at a long table of highly polished wood.

"Welcome! Please be seated here at my right hand, good Knight. Welcome, gentlebeings. Sit wherever you like." Lif clapped his enormous hands. "Bring food! Vak for my guests!"

During the polite conversation preceeding dinner, McCade tried, without success, to get comfortable in the oversized chair. Then a seemingly endless procession of food and drink began. All was native Lakorian fare in which meat and vegetables played equal parts, often in the form of stews and casseroles. Most of it was quite good, although a couple of dishes were hardly to McCade's taste . . . particularly the white grubs served live with hot sauce.

Throughout the meal their Lakorian-sized mugs were never empty of the alcoholic Vak. It packed a real whallop, and it was soon clear the Baron intended to drink them under the table. He would have succeeded, too, if the humans hadn't anticipated such a move and taken inhibitors prior to dinner. But, in spite of that precaution, McCade's head was buzzing by the time the dishes had been cleared away and serious conversation began.

Baron Lif opened the negotiations politely. "Earlier, my friend, you indicated some concern about your ability to carry out your mission, given the natural impediments native to my planet."

"Absolutely true, Baron," McCade said somberly, slurring his words ever so slightly. "I'm afraid that even with the crawler we may not make it, or if we do, it may be too late."

"Too late?" the Baron asked with open curiosity.

"Yes," McCade answered sadly. "The Princess has been conditioned to commit suicide rather than suffer the indignity of slavery. Of course it would break the King's heart. But there's no helping it. Can't have a princess as a hostage or a slave. On top of that, without the beacon we won't even be able to find her body and give it a decent burial." McCade belched, excused himself, and swayed slightly in his chair.

"Quite, quite," Lif said, nodding in agreement. "You say if she dies the beacon is extinguished also?" he asked sharply.

"It's powered by her nervous system," McCade explained blandly, waving a hand and almost knocking over a full mug of Vak.

"Yes . . . I see," the Baron replied thoughtfully. "It would appear we must act quickly."

Now you're getting the idea, McCade thought, trying to suppress the buzzing in his ears.

The Baron regarded McCade with a shrewd look. "Perhaps, my friend, we can serve each other, and in so doing accomplish much. I am going to confide something in you and your men, which if it were known, could mean my death." Lif paused dramatically, looking at each man in turn.

Both Rico and Van Doren struggled to look both serious and impressed. But since both were more than a little drunk, neither was very convincing. Fortunately the Baron was no expert on the nuances of human facial expressions and appeared satisfied.

"Your secret is safe with us," McCade said reassuringly, barely managing to disguise an enormous belch as a cough.

"I and certain other Lakorian nobles have long sought to overthrow the King," Lif said importantly, glancing around as though the King himself might be lurking behind a tapestry.

"No!"

"Surely you jest!"

"Really? Well . . . I'm sure you must have compelling reasons."

Each of the humans sought to outdo the others with expressions of incredulity.

Apparently satisfied with the impact of his revelation, Baron Lif proceeded to document in boring detail the many transgressions and crimes for which the King should be made to pay. McCade noted with amusement that mistreatment of the commoners and slavery were not on Lif's list of complaints.

Finally having reached the end of his lengthy indictment, the nobleman said, "Now pay close attention, gentlemen, for this is where our interests meet. For years my friends and I have been unable to topple this tyrant king because we couldn't find him. The location of his castle is a closely held secret. We've tried everything to find it. Our spies never return. Atmospheric craft are shot down. In short all our attempts have been frustrated."

"Why not just assassinate him and have done with it?" Van Doren asked respectfully. "Surely he appears in public occasionally."

Lif nodded. "Believe me it's been tried, good Squire. More than once.

But Zorta's bodyguard has always proved effective. And we must not only crush the man, but we must also seize his base of power."

And his money, McCade thought cynically as he took another sip of Vak.

The Baron leaned back as a satisfied smile touched his lips. "But finally the King has made a fatal mistake. He bought a poor innocent girl as a slave. Unknown to him, the girl is a princess. And hidden in her body is a beacon. A beacon which can be tracked."

Lif paused, allowing the silence to add significance to his words.

"And tracked it is. Tracked by a loyal knight bent on rescuing this fair maiden. Tracked too by the knight's loyal friend and ally, Baron Lif. Tracked to the very doorstep of the King's castle, soon to be pulled down around his very ears!"

With a roar of approval, McCade, Rico, and Van Doren banged their mugs on the table and then lifted them to drink the Baron's health.

Each time the crawler lurched, McCade thought he was going to die. He had the worst hangover he'd ever experienced. Sitting next to him, Rico was cheerful enough as he conned the huge machine over, around, and through the frequent obstacles. Outside somewhere Baron Lif rode with his troops. And if his constant chatter on the radio was any guide, the Lakorian noble was in fine fettle. McCade consoled himself by reflecting on their excellent progress. With Lif's scouts ranging far ahead and warning them of the worst hazards, their speed had picked up considerably. Meanwhile the green dot still glowed steadily on the nav screen. But it was close now and with each passing hour it grew slightly larger. McCade wondered if he'd live to get there . . . or if it really mattered. He massaged his throbbing temples and yawned. Elaborately informing Rico that a nap was in order, he headed for a bunk, unaware of Rico's knowing smile or his unsympathetic chuckle.

A full rotation later, McCade felt better. In fact he felt very much better. Not only had he fully recovered from the residual effects of too much Vak, but he found they were at least halfway to their destination. Outside the crawler, a downpour obscured the video cameras as usual, but the infrared sensors showed another kind of progress as well.

Thousands of red blobs now moved along in company with the crawler. Included were not only Baron Lif's troops, but those of many other nobles as well. Hardly an hour passed without a baron, count or duke joining their informal army. Although Lif was outranked by more than half the nobility present he had still managed to retain overall control through his special relationship with the humans, and his own political skill. Not an easy feat since many present had more experience in fighting against Zorta. McCade remembered vividly the night attack on the slave tractor. No doubt about it, there were some very tough folks out there.

Nonetheless by tactfully referring to himself as "Military Coordinator," the Baron had nudged, maneuvered, wheedled, and cajoled the disparate forces into a semblance of military order. McCade couldn't help but admire Lif's organizational skill.

Rico just shook his head and said, "He'd fit right in on the Council, ol' sport. Likes ta talk, that one does."

By evening of the second day, Lif had suggested a halt to rest the troops and prepare for battle. The other nobles quickly agreed, most being unused to a full day in the saddle. They also agreed to a council of war, each seeing it as an opportunity to express his valuable opinions on strategy . . . and to get rip-roaring drunk.

As darkness fell, the nobles made their way to a large tent which had been erected near the crawler. McCade went too, with Van Doren at his side. Lif had suggested that, religious vows allowing, they dress formally. He wanted them to make an impression on the assembled nobility and McCade promised to do his best. So as McCade and Van Doren entered the tent, the huge marine was dressed in full black body armor, and was wearing every kind of weapon they could strap on him. A helmet with a mirrored visor completed the effect. He hovered by McCade's shoulder . . . the very image of death incarnate.

Lacking any uniform or other ceremonial garb, McCade had chosen stark simplicity. From the supplies he'd put aboard the crawler, Rico produced a new set of gray leathers in McCade's size. These, combined with shiny knee-high boots, produced a military aspect. Phil had contributed a pin in the shape of a sunburst, which he normally used to fasten his kilt. It now shone brightly on McCade's chest, either a medal or a badge of rank, whichever the observer chose to make it. Trying his best to appear both aloof and confident, McCade took his place next to Baron Lif at the circular table, which almost filled the tent's interior. The table had been his own idea, solving as it did the endless problems of rank and precedence created by such a gathering. It had amused him to borrow yet another aspect of King Arthur's legendary court.

Once all the nobles were present, and the obligatory ceremonial toasts had been drunk, Baron Lif called the meeting to order.

"Thank you for your attendance, noble friends. We are gathered on the eve of a great victory. For years the tyrant Zorta has escaped his just reward, and now he shall have it. Death!"

A resounding cheer went up, interspersed with, "Hear! Hear!" Once the cheering and applause had died down, Lif stood and turned toward McCade.

"With us tonight is a great warrior from a distant kingdom. His is a mission which would credit any knight, the rescue of a fair maiden."

There was another cheer and more applause, which Lif waved into silence.

"Through his efforts, we now stand at the threshold of victory. Friends, I ask you to honor Sir Sam McCade."

With a roar of approval the Lakorians stood and drank McCade's health. As they sat down they looked expectantly in McCade's direction.

McCade stood, and allowed his eyes to roam the circumference of the table while the silence built. Then when every eye was upon him he spoke. "My Lords, I greet you in the name of my liege, King Arthur. Though he dwells on a distant world, I assure you his heart and hopes are with us tonight. Though we are of different races, nobleblood flows through all our veins, and will soon merge and mingle to bathe the soil of your beautiful planet. Soon we will fight and perhaps die, side by side." Here McCade paused and allowed a smile to touch his lips. "But friends, it comforts me to know that if I fall and take that final march toward either heaven or hell, I shall do so in the very best of company!"

The applause was deafening and lasted for three or four minutes. When it finally died away, Baron Lif stood and said, "Well said, my friend. Now let us discuss our plan of attack."

For two hours Lif allowed the debate to ebb and flow. Proposals, strategies, and plans of all kinds were raised, discussed, and rejected by those favoring their own approaches. Throughout all of it Lif listened attentively, maintaining an uncharacteristic silence.

Meanwhile McCade had begun to wonder if Rico had dozed off or something. He was just about to send Van Doren to find out when he heard a tremendous commotion outside the tent. Shouted commands were heard, along with the screech of reptillian mounts and the clash of loose gear. All eyes were on the tent flap as it was suddenly thrown aside. With perfect timing Rico strode through the entrance with a squad of Lif's elite scouts following behind. He was dressed exactly like Van Doren and in company with the colorful Lakorians made quite a sight. Looking neither right nor left, he marched to where McCade and Lif sat. Bending down between them he whispered in their ears.

"Looked pretty impressive, didn't we, Baron? How're ya doin', sport . . .. Hope everything's goin' good. Well that oughta do it . . .. See ya later." With that Rico snapped to attention, delivered a salute worthy of the Imperial Honor Guard, did an about-face, and marched out of the tent with the scouts following behind.

His features now etched in lines of concern, Baron Lif slowly stood to address the gathering. Rico's performance had accomplished its purpose. The debate had ended and the audience had been delivered back into Baron Lif's hands.

"Friends, critical information has just come to my attention. As you know we are within a half day's march of Zorta's castle. Therefore it seemed prudent to send out scouts to locate and probe his defenses. As you have just witnessed, a squad of my elite rangers under the command of Sir Sam's squire have just returned. The intelligence they have gathered on their daring mission behind Zorta's lines is astounding."

Lif couldn't resist letting them sit and stew for a moment before taking them off the hook. "Penetrating the very heart of the area indicated by the beacon's signal, they found nothing. Ground defenses and troops . . . yes.

Hundreds in fact. But where Zorta's castle should stand, where the beacon says it does stand, there is nothing."