Part 20 (1/2)
”No, we'll let them go by,” Darius said with evident satisfaction and began to wriggle backward.
Mena.s.sah followed suit until both men could stand without being seen from the road. ”I'll pa.s.s the word,”
107.
he said, slapping leaves and earth off his tunic, ”but can 1 ask why?”
”You may indeed.” Darius was in high good humor ”Our archers are good, but a moving target is hard to hit, especially when there are so many of them. Those colored popinjays down there are treating this part of the journey as if it was a hunt picnic. By midafternoon they'll be looking for a pleasant place to make camp and after that the wine will come out. They're traveling light by the looks of it, but I'll wager that they'll be carrying wineskins. The Earls' men will do the hunting for supper and they'll get to drinking later. The men- at-arms will probably stay sober. They're in strange country, so they'll keep the campfires burning, but I doubt they'll post sentries.
”We'll stay back so that the hunters don't trip over us, but once they're asleep they'll be easy pickings. We don't have to catch up with them until dusk and they won't be difficult to find. I want a bowman riding be- hind every saddle. We'll give them an hour's start. Si- lence is to be maintained. Understood?”
”Understood, General.”
Nightfall found Darius and his men on the western slopes two and a half leagues north of their base camp.
The archers were crouched twenty feet below the hill- crest- Lower still, the cavalry stood beside their horses.
On the plain, campfires blazed and men settled down to sleep. Their horses had been hobbled and turned loose to graze. Noise drifted up from the central fire, where a group was gathered in a circle. From time to time, shadowy figures moved, feeding the fires. A cheer, mingled with groans, floated up. Darius, lying on his stomach just inside a coppice, was muttering under his breath.
”Degenerate little b.u.g.g.e.rs,” Mena.s.sah heard him say, ”stop gaming and go to sleep.”
108 It took a while for the General's wish to be granted, but, two hours later, the group by the main fire had dispersed, relieved themselves, found a spot and slept.
Darius took a deep breath and worked his way back- ward. Whispered orders pa.s.sed and the archers moved to the crest. They set up in groups of six with ample s.p.a.ce between for the hors.e.m.e.n to ride through. Ar- rows were notched and loosed at the dark shapes on the earth below. Four courses flew before the cavalry swept through the gaps and down the slope. Resistance was futile and escape, with the horses hobbled, impos- sible. The slaughter was total.
By dawn, when Darius, with Mena.s.sah at his side, picked his way through the bodies, the stream that had been the reason for the campsite was running clear again. Flies were already cl.u.s.tering on the drying pools of blood. The archers were methodically going around retrieving arrows. The leaders of the rebellion were easy to spot by their long hair and fine clothes. The two Earls were there, together with a dozen others that Da- rius did not recognize. Each time they came across one of them, Darius signaled for the body to be dragged off to the side. When they had completed the grisly tour, he turned to the Adjutant.
”Any idea which of these”-his hand indicated the sprawled corpses-”is the leader of Duke Paramin's men?”
”No, sir- They don't seem to be wearing any badges of rank.”
”Did that Attemill fellow ride with us by any
chance?”
Mena.s.sah gave a grim half-smile. ”I insisted on it. I don't trust the man. He's betrayed one master, he can betray another.”
”I'm going to get upwind of this stink- See if you can find him for me.”
109.
”At once. General.” Mena.s.sah saluted and went off at the double- Darius walked carefully out of the killing ground and sat down on a scruffy patch of gra.s.s. He didn't have long to wait.
”Adjutant said you wanted to see me. General.” The little man was showing the strains of a sleepless night.
”Yes I do,” Darius said, getting to his feet. He winced as his hip twinged, and he walked around a little to work off the pain.
”Know who commanded the Duke of Abercorn's hors.e.m.e.n?” he asked.
”Man called Walter of Huspeth.”
”Know what he looks like?”
”Saw him once or twice,” Attemill allowed.