Part 5 (1/2)
”Not at all,” his host told him hastily. His voice gentled. ”You are usually not so quick to take offense, my Friend.”
”I was being a buck's tail,” he apologized. ”I'm sorry, Ton I Loran.”
The other chuckled. ”At least, you can admit it.”
A flagon of wine stood on a small table near the Ton's hand. Luroc took it up and handed it to his companion along with one of the horn cups conveniently placed beside it. ”Come, drink that to wet your throat and then give me your report. This proved a singularly profitable raid, and I would like to hear the details.”
Murdock complied readily, concluding his account with his own speculations about the significance of all they had seen and taken.
”You talk of victory,” I Loran said when he had finished. ”Do you see it as coming?”
The Terran nodded. ”Yes. I don't deal in hope and wishful thinking, especially not with you. I believe the crest has come in Condor Hall's war. Unless we fall under some ghastly cast of fortune or are guilty of an almost impossibly gross blunder ourselves, we'll conquer.”
”You have not mentioned this before.”
”No. It was the discovery of the gold that made me feel sure enough to speak about what had been only a thought. Token payments are frequently made to mercenaries during the course of an exceptionally long campaign, but never anything on this scale.” He smiled grimly. ”For one thing, the dangers inherent in transporting large sums of specie are normally too great.”
”Yet Zanthor did risk it.”
He nodded. ”To quiet his troops, I believe. He depends heavily on hirelings and must keep those he now has with him. He knows he won't be getting any more.”
The older man frowned. ”He has had no trouble thus far in drawing columns to his standard.”
”That will no longer be true. He'll continue to pick up companies, individuals, right enough, but he can't reward any additional columns amply enough with gold or with land even in the event of total victory, and that's been uncommonly slow in coming. Those already with him will have secured full spoil-rights to whatever domains he can expect to seize and can spare. The peripheral profits which remain simply aren't sufficient to bind potential newcomers to what still promises to be a long and arduous campaign.”
”By the same token, his current commanders and those with them are beginning to tire and to grow impatient for their long-deferred reward?”
”Even so, unless I'm reading it all wrong, which I very much doubt. The cheaper, more basic foodstuffs and the alteration in the frequency and the manner of their delivery give evidence of difficulties that weren't present at the outset of his a.s.sault, and, as further evidence that he's in some trouble, many of our prisoners seem more disgruntled than angry now.”
He paused to refill his cup and to pour one for the Dominionite. ”All this is based on what I've observed in the Sapphirehold area. Conditions could be enough different on the front to alter the accuracy of my conclusions. What does Ton I Carlroc say?”
”He sees it as do you, although he is a trifle less optimistic. He believes there is still a hard campaign before us.”
”Hard and probably long,” the agent agreed. ”I said we'll conquer, not that we have done so. Condor Hall isn't going to lie down before us.”
Luroc detailed what the Confederate commanders had told him of their plans and repeated their plea that Firehand's partisans continue their efforts, increasing them if possible.
The older man's eyes glowed as he relayed the latter request. ”It appears that they regard Sapphirehold's contribution to the war as greater than even we had imagined.”
Ross's head lifted a little. He was proud of his command's achievements, and it pleased him to know that the Confederate leaders respected them as well. ”We'll keep the pressure on Zanthor,” he promised. ”As for increasing it, that depends on him. If he provides us with additional targets, we'll attack them. We have the capability of doing so.”
”We can be fairly a.s.sured of ample prey these next couple or three months.”
”Very likely,” Murdock replied. ”The Ton of Condor Hall has to have realized by now how little will get past both the snows and our people. With fall already on him, he'll have to move fast to send down all he can of warriors to replace those he'll lose in the final spurt of fighting and goods enough to maintain the whole lot during the winter halt. We should have excellent hunting right to the first blizzards.”
”Your targets may be well guarded,” he warned.
”No doubt. We'll still do well enough to multiply his troubles for all that.”
The gray eyes sparkled as they swung toward the packs now resting on the floor not far from them. ”Don't count on many more prizes like this last, though.”
Ton Luroc chuckled. ”I shall excuse you from producing that, Firehand.”
”You'll have it removed to the village?”
”Yes, as soon as possible. We have other work here besides minding treasure. -How would you like to have your portion stored?”
The supposed mercenary shook his head. ”Let it be. You have greater need of it. Sapphirehold must not only be free but prosperous as well. If you don't rebuild quickly, you may be seen as a potential prize by some other land-hungry would-be Ton. This'll go far in helping you to reestablish yourselves.” I Loran studied him speculatively. ”This is a small portion compared with what we will get once Condor Hall falls. Sapphirehold shall have full compensation then and an equal war share with the Confederate domains besides. That, too, was affirmed in our meeting.”
”Treasure possessed is worth many times that held only in hope,” he quoted the Dominionite proverb.
Luroc smiled. ”You are a cautious man, Firehand, though I cannot fault a trait that has done us such good service.”
He grew grave once more. ”Understand this, Rossin, I will not see you ride from my domain poorer than when you came. Your swordbelt was well crusted with jewels then. It is plain now.”
Murdock straightened, his eyes flas.h.i.+ng. ”That was a loan given in our mutual need...”
”And as such must be repaid.”
”Not at the cost of risking again everything we've all fought so hard to save! When you can cover your contract with me and your debt without injury to yourselves, you'll do it. I'm not going to be a drain on you before then.”
The Ton's eyes narrowed, but he raised his hands in surrender. ”Peace, Warrior,” he said with a trace of exasperation. ”I consider myself a stubborn man, but in you, I have met my equal... Very well. Since there is little opportunity to spend gold on these slopes, I yield to you for the moment.”
Ross laughed softly, so that the other looked at him in surprise. ”Peace indeed, Ton Luroc. We've been arguing as if we were sitting safely in Sapphirehold's reconstructed hall instead of still hiding out in the mountains. We may believe victory will be ours and be right in so believing, but we're a long way yet from achieving it. At this point in time, Zanthor I Yoroc has no intention of ceding any of his h.o.a.rd or his ill-won lands to us. My portion will do little good until he does.”
Now I Loran laughed as well. ”I am glad no other was present to hear us just now! -Thank you for that, my Friend. Your work and my people's has often given me good news to savor, but a chance to laugh is a rare treasure.”
He sobered once more. There might be the shade of a bright dawn glimmering on the future's horizon, but the present remained stark and hard, and its demands pressed sternly upon them. They would have to keep their attention fixed on the war that had become the central focus of their lives for the foreseeable time to come.
9.
THE SUN WAS setting by the time Murdock quitted the Ton's quarters once more. There had been a great deal to discuss as they laid their plans for the coming weeks and for the following year's campaign should the conflict not be resolved before then.
Both were determined to strike again very quickly and to keep as much pressure as possible on the invaders throughout the weeks to come. The war would probably not end with this season, but if they could so disrupt Condor Hall activity that its army would be forced to take to the field for the spring campaign less than perfectly prepared, Zanthor might well then be on the full defensive, maybe battling entirely within his own borders, or have gone down in defeat before the arrival of another winter.
The evening chill was rising, but it felt good to him, and he resolved to remain outside a while rather than seek his cabin immediately.
He did not want company, and the Terran moved away from the campground into the trees beyond. He wanted to think a little after that strange interview.
Ross had said a great deal, too much, maybe. Mercenaries were one breed, whatever their world of origin. They did not make a habit of refusing gold or its equivalent, or of postponing getting a sizable hunk of it into their possession, either.
His pace slowed, and his eyes lowered to the already leaf-strewn ground. He had taken oath to Sapphirehold as part of the role he was playing, but he had realized in there as he had attempted to renounce his share of the war prize that he had meant that vow in fact. He cared deeply about this domain and its cause, not merely for its eventual effect upon Dominion of Virgin's history, but for its own sake and that of its fine, valiant people. He had not been able to bring himself to claim a resource he knew would be needed, maybe desperately needed, in the hard work of rebuilding that must follow the war.
A strange tightening tugged his chest and throat, and he increased his pace once more, instinctively hoping activity would dispel the unwelcome emotion gripping him.
The Time Agent continued walking for some minutes longer, slowing again as he gradually slid back into deep thought.