The Redemption of Althalus (60 page)

Leitha nodded. “A lot of it was playacting,” she replied. “Gelta was adding things that weren’t entirely true. The war wasn’t going nearly as well for her as that dream vision suggested.”

“This isn’t the first time you’ve all had the same dream, I gather,” Khalor said.

“The bad people are trying to play with our thoughts, Mister Khalor,” Gher told him. “The Ghend fellow sticks silly things that didn’t really happen into our dreams to make us believe that they really
did
happen. That dream we all had last night wasn’t way back then like the rest of them have been, though. I think this one’s supposed to happen a month or so from now.”

“How did you come to
that
conclusion, Gher?” Bheid asked.

“The leaves on the trees outside the room where Andine was sprawled out on the floor were all sort of red. Doesn’t that mean that it was in autumn?”

Khalor’s eyes narrowed. “They
were,
weren’t they?” he said. “That means that this is all supposed to happen about six weeks from now.” He looked at Dweia. “Is that thing set in stone?” he asked her. “Or could this Ghend fellow sneak back, put snow on the ground, and then make us dream it all over again?”

“I don’t think he’d dare, Sergeant,” she replied. “Part of the danger of jumping around in time in a dream vision is the possibility of paradox. If two entirely different things happen in the same place at the same time, reality starts to come apart, and we really don’t want that to happen. Changing the past is fairly safe—if you don’t go too far. Changing the future is an entirely different matter.”

“The past has already happened, Dweia,” Bheid objected. “It
can’t
be changed.”

“It doesn’t
have
to be, Brother Bheid,” she told him. “The dream vision changes our
memory
of the past. In the world of reality, Gelta never attained total domination of Ansu. She butchered her way to the thrones of about six clans in southern Ansu, and then the rest of the clans joined forces and overwhelmed her. She was on her way to the headsman’s block when Pekhal rescued her. That’s not the way she remembers it, though. She
believes
that she came to own all of Ansu, and Ghend can use dream visions to make everybody in Ansu believe the same thing.
That’s
why the Ansus attacked Wekti when she commanded them to.”

“Did that make any sense to anybody else?” Eliar asked plaintively.

“It’s not really all that complicated, Eliar,” Gher told him. “The dream things are flimflams, that’s all.”

“That might actually be the best way to look at them,” Dweia conceded. “It’s a little more complex than that, but ‘flimflam’ isn’t too far off the mark when the dream visions are set in the past. This time, though, Ghend’s trying to sneak a future one by us.”

“How can we prevent it?” Andine demanded.

“I don’t think we’ll want to, dear,” Dweia replied fondly. “I think we might want to just play along with that dream.”

“No!” Andine’s voice soared. “I
will
not bow down to that pock-marked cow!”

“You’re missing the point, Andine,” Dweia told her. “I believe the Knife said ‘obey’ when you saw it, didn’t it?”

“It surely didn’t mean that I’m supposed to obey
Gelta
!”

“The meanings of the words on the Knife are a little obscure, dear. It told Eliar to ‘lead,’ but it didn’t mean that he’s supposed to command the army. What it really meant was that he’s the one who opens the doors. It told Leitha to ‘listen,’ but she doesn’t listen with her ears. When it told you to ‘obey,’ it was giving you the means to defeat Gelta.”

“I
won’t
do it! I’d sooner die!”

“That option’s not open to you, dear. You don’t have to
like
it, Andine, you just have to
do
it.”

“I’m sure you folks can deal with these little matters without any help from me,” Sergeant Khalor suggested. “Right now I’d probably better go look at those three cities.”

“Hold tight for a few minutes, Sergeant,” Althalus said. “I want to go talk with Smeugor and Tauri. I think it’s time to put some forces out there to slow the invasion.” He squinted at Leitha. “You’d better come along,” he told her. “I want to know exactly what those two are thinking before I turn them loose.”

“It shall be as you command, O glorious leader,” Leitha replied with an exaggerated curtsy.

“Would you talk to her about that, Bheid?” Althalus asked the black-robed priest. “I’ve got enough on my mind already without all these little tweaks and gouges to brighten up my day.”

“Why, Althalus,” Leitha said in mock astonishment, “what a terrible thing to say.”

Althalus and Leitha walked through the silent corridors of the House toward the southeast wing, and Althalus explained a few peculiarities as they went. “They don’t see the walls or the floor, Leitha. They think they’re in Kagwher—up in the mountains.”

“How are you managing that, Althalus?” the blond girl asked.

“I’m not the one who’s doing it, so don’t ask
me
about it. Emmy takes care of that.”

“You love her very much, don’t you?”

“It goes quite a ways past that. Anyway, the two clans are sort of lounging around in what they
think
is a mountain pass. I’ll station you in a doorway that won’t be very far from their encampment, and then I’ll go on in and give them their marching orders. I’ll need to know what their reactions are and just exactly how they’ll try to avoid doing what I tell them to do. We don’t want any surprises.”

“I’ll see what I can find out,” she promised.

They turned into an intersecting corridor, and Althalus saw an army of Arums just ahead. “This should be far enough, Leitha,” he told her. “Wait here.”

There was, as always, a peculiar sense of dislocation when Althalus approached the camp. He could see the corridor clearly enough, but at the same time, he could see the mountains of Kagwher out of the corners of his eyes, and the corridor and the mountains seemed to blur together. Distances weren’t exactly the same, so the kilted sentries did a lot of walking in place as they escorted Althalus to the headquarters pavilion.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” Althalus greeted the pair as he entered the pavilion. “What cheer?”

“Not much cheer,” the pimple-faced Smeugor replied sourly. “This is intolerable, Althalus. We’re Clan Chiefs, and you’ve got us roughing things with the common soldiers. It’s insulting.”

“You took the money, Chief Smeugor,” Althalus told him. “Now you get to earn it.”

“What’s afoot?” the yellow-haired Tauri asked.

“The Kanthons have invaded Osthos territory,” Althalus replied, “so it looks like we’re off to the races. You’d better summon your army commanders. I’ll need to discuss the details with them.”

“We’re the Clan Chiefs, Althalus,” Smeugor declared with a haughty expression.
“We’ll
pass the orders on to our troop commanders.”

“Forgive me if I speak bluntly, Chief Smeugor,” Althalus said, “but you two don’t know beans about military operations. I want to be positive that your commanders know exactly what’s going on and what I need them to do. We don’t want any misunderstandings.”

“You go too far, Althalus,” Tauri declared.
“We’ll
decide what orders to give our men.”

“The pay stops right now, then. Turn around and go back to Arum.”

“We have an agreement!” Smeugor exclaimed. “You can’t just back out of it like this!”

“I just did. Either send for those commanders or start packing for the trip home. I speak for Arya Andine. You
will
do as I tell you to do, or I’ll dismiss you right here and now.”

Tauri turned to the sentry posted at the front of the pavilion. “You—what’s your name?—go fetch Wendan and Gelun, and be quick about it.”

“Yes, my Chief,” the sentry replied. Althalus noticed a slight sneer cross the sentry’s face as Tauri turned away. The two renegade Chiefs were obviously not highly regarded by their clansmen.

“Exactly what have you got in mind for us, Althalus?” Smeugor asked, his hard eyes narrowing.

“The invaders are moving faster than we want them to move. We’re preparing a welcome for them, and we don’t want them to arrive early. I want you two to slow them down.”

“It’s a long way off, Althalus,” Tauri protested. “How are we supposed to get there in time to make any difference?”

“The procedure’s known as ‘running,’ Chief Tauri. It’s a bit like walking, but you do it faster.”

“I don’t care for your tone, Althalus.”

“That’s too bad, isn’t it? You’ve been on the march for almost a month now, and you haven’t really covered very much ground. Now you’re going to make up for that. This is a war, gentlemen, not an afternoon stroll. You’d better pass the word to your men to start breaking camp. You’ll be leaving here within the hour.”

“You sent for us, my Chief?” a lean, professional-looking soldier inquired as he and a very tall man entered.

“Yes, Gelun,” Tauri replied. “This is Althalus, one of our employer’s underlings. He has some instructions for you—outside, if you don’t mind. Chief Smeugor and I are about to have breakfast, and we’d rather not be disturbed.”

“As you command, my Chief,” Captain Gelun replied, saluting. “If you’ll come with us, Althalus, we can discuss this in greater detail.”

“Of course,” Althalus replied. Then he bowed curtly to Smeugor and Tauri. “Enjoy your breakfast, gentlemen, but don’t be at it too long.” Then he followed the two soldiers out of the pavilion.

“Is it just my imagination, or did I catch a faint smell of hostility in the air just now?” the tall soldier with Captain Gelun asked mildly.

“You’re Captain Wendan, aren’t you?” Althalus asked.

“At your service, Althalus,” the tall man replied extravagantly.

“I certainly hope so. I wasn’t having much luck getting through to that pair.”

“What an amazing thing,” Gelun said sardonically. “Wendan and I don’t have any trouble at all persuading them that we should move along—unless we get careless and suggest that we should cover more than a mile a day.”

“What possessed your Arya to saddle us with that worthless pair, Althalus?” Wendan demanded.

“Careful, Wendan,” Gelun warned. “You shouldn’t let the men hear you talking that way about our revered Chieftains. It’s bad for their morale.”

“Arya Andine doesn’t entirely understand Arum social structure, gentlemen,” Althalus said glibly. “She thought that all the clans functioned the way Twengor’s clan does. Twengor leads his men personally. I tried to explain to her that Smeugor and Tauri don’t do that, but I couldn’t get through to her. She still seems to think that
they’re
the Generals. She’s very young.”

“Everybody gets over that eventually,” Gelun said. “Here’s our tent, Althalus. Come on inside, and we’ll get down to business.”

“I brought a map,” Althalus said as they entered a tent that stood no more than ten feet from the pavilion. He reached inside his tunic and drew out one of Khalor’s carefully drawn maps. Then he unrolled it and spread it out on the rough table in the tent. “The army of the Kanthons invaded last week, and they’re advancing on these three cities. We need to have you slow them down.”

“Who’s the Overgeneral of our forces?” Wendan asked.

“You know Sergeant Khalor?”

“Oh, yes,” Wendan replied. “He and I’ve been on opposite sides in a couple of wars. When you get right down to it, if you’ve got Khalor, you don’t
need
any of the rest of us.”

“Is he that good?” Gelun asked.

“You don’t want to go up against him if you can possibly avoid it.”

Gelun grunted. “You
do
know what’s involved in a delaying action, don’t you, Althalus?” he asked.

“Mostly ambushes and knocking down bridges, isn’t it?”

“Stick to politics and diplomacy, Althalus,” Wendan said. “Wars are just a little different. Soldiers get hungry several times a day, so they have to be fed. The best way to slow them down is to make sure that you don’t leave any food lying around for them. It’s almost harvest time now—which is probably why the Kanthons waited to start their invasion. I hope your Arya isn’t
too
attached to this year’s wheat crop, because it won’t be there anymore after Gelun and I reach that border country. We’ll burn everything in sight for fifty miles on either side of the line.”

“And poison every well we come across,” Gelun added.

“Poison?” That startled Althalus.

“It amounts to that,” Gelun explained. “If you take a horse or a cow that’s been dead for a week and drop it down a well, the water won’t be fit to drink.”

“And if you can’t find suitable cattle, there are always dead people lying around during a war. Dead people stink even worse than dead cows do,” Wendan added.

Althalus shuddered. “Do you think you’ll be able to keep Chief Smeugor and Chief Tauri from interfering?”

“Anything more than a mile from where their pavilion’s set up might as well be on the other side of the world,” Gelun sneered. “Our glorious leaders aren’t very fond of exercise. Wendan and I just salute smartly when they tell us to do something, but as soon as we get out of sight—and earshot—we do what really needs to be done instead. Tell Sergeant Khalor that we’re going to send him invaders who’ll be terribly hungry and thirsty. He’ll know what to do with them.”

“Leave the map, though,” the lanky Wendan added. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we’d better go give the men their marching orders.”

“Have a nice trip,” Althalus said. And then he left the tent.

“You still have a lot of rough bark left on you, Althalus,” Leitha observed when he rejoined her. “Weren’t you just a bit abrupt with Smeugor and Tauri?”

“It could have been worse. What did they say after I left?”

“They’re terribly upset and extremely worried. They haven’t been able to get in touch with Ghend since the conclave, so they don’t really know what they’re supposed to do. Normally, Argan carries messages back and forth, but they haven’t seen him for weeks. They’re totally baffled and very much afraid. If they do something wrong, they know that Ghend’s very likely to punish them—fatally.”

“What a shame,” Althalus replied, smirking. “We’d better get back to the tower before Khalor starts climbing the walls.”