Shadow of a Dark Queen

Erik glanced around, still suspecting treachery, but found only defeated men looking around in amazement. Of Calis’s forty-three men, only thirty-seven had been fit for this fight, and they had almost bloodlessly captured nearly two times their own number.

 

Suddenly Erik felt like laughing. He tried to fight it, but couldn’t. He let out a chuckle at first, then started laughing aloud. Then others in his company joined in, and soon there were cheers as Calis’s Crimson Eagles had their first victory in a long time.

 

Calis moved through and said, “Get Nahoot over here.”

 

A man among the captives said, “He’s dead. You killed him up the trail yesterday.”

 

“Why didn’t Dawar tell us?” asked de Loungville.

 

“He didn’t know, the bleeder. We carried Nahoot down here, and he died at supper. Gut wound. Messy.”

 

“Who’s leading?”

 

“I guess I am,” said a man, stepping forward. “Name’s Kelka.”

 

“You the sergeant?” asked de Loungville.

 

“No, the corporal. Sergeant got his head split, too.”

 

De Loungville said, “Well, that partially explains why there was nothing like a defense.”

 

“Beggin’ your pardon, Captain,” said Kelka. “Are you going to offer us service?”

 

“Why?” asked Calis.

 

“Well, we haven’t been paid in a while, and as we’ve got no captain and no sergeant . . . Hell, Captain, you kicked hell out of us with only half our number. I figure you’ve got to be better than anyone else we’re likely to run into if you give us the day’s grace.”

 

“I’ll think about it.”

 

“Captain, if you don’t mind, you going to take our tents?”

 

Calis shook his head. “Get back over there. I’ll tell you what I’m going to do once I decide.”

 

Calis motioned for de Loungville and said, “Get some food into the men, and send someone up the trail to lead the wounded and Dawar down here. I want everyone here by noon tomorrow.” He motioned to the captives. “We’ll figure out what to do with them in the morning.”

 

Erik sat down, feeling his legs shake. It had been a very long day and he was exhausted, as he knew everyone else in the company was.

 

Then de Loungville’s voice cut through the air. “What! Who told anyone to rest? We’ve got a camp to make ready!”

 

Men began to groan as de Loungville ordered, “I want a trench and breastwork dug, and I want stakes sharpened. Bring in the horses and stake them nearby. I want a full inventory of stores, and I want to know who’s injured. Then, after we’ve got this camp in shape, maybe I’ll think about letting you get some sleep.”

 

Erik forced himself to stand, and as he moved, he wondered aloud, “Where are we going to find shovels?”

 

De Loungville shouted back, “Use your hands if you have to, von Darkmoor!”

 

 

 

 

 

22

 

Infiltration

 

Calis whispered.

 

Erik couldn’t hear the Captain’s conversation, but he saw Praji and Greylock nodding agreement.

 

The prisoners had been moved to a small wash, where a handful of men could easily guard them. De Loungville was interviewing them, against what plan of the Captain’s Erik had no idea.

 

The traditional head start for the losers who surrendered was a day before any hostilities would be resumed. Usually, according to Praji, those who cleared out were left alone, if they kept moving. Erik was lost in thought when Roo approached.

 

“How are the horses?” asked Roo.

 

“They’re a little scrawny; the grass is poor this time of year and they’ve been kept too long in the same place. But otherwise they’re fine. If we move them a couple of times over the next week, they should put some weight on, especially if I can find a place to shelter them at night from the wind. It’s the cold takes weight off them as much as anything else. Their heavy coats are starting to come in, so they’ll be all right.”

 

Roo said, “What do you think the Captain has in mind?”

 

Erik said, “I don’t really know. I find it strange he’s talking about heading down for Port Grief loud enough so those prisoners can hear.”

 

Roo grinned. “Not if that’s where we want the Queen’s army to look for us. What next?”

 

“We’ve got plenty to do,” said Erik. “And we’d better get on it before de Loungville comes back. He finds us loafing around and there’ll be hell to pay.”

 

Roo groaned. “I’m dying of hunger.”

 

Suddenly Erik realized he hadn’t eaten except for a quick mouthful the night before. “Let’s grab something,” he said, and Roo’s expression brightened. “Then we’ll get back to work.” Roo’s expression turned dark again, but he followed his friend.

 

Feist, Raymond E.'s books