Reaching the mound on which they stood, Erik heard Nakor saying, “. . . three times. I think there is something strange here.”
Calis said. “That’s a well-defended position—”
“No,” interrupted Nakor. “Look closely. The walls are good, yes, but there is no way to bring in reinforcements, yet the man said they were facing fresh soldiers every time they assaulted the walls. Three times in one day.”
De Loungville said, “Camp gossip.”
“Maybe,” said Nakor. “Maybe not. If true, then there is a way from that place”—he pointed toward the small western precinct of the city on this side of the river—“to over there.” He then pointed to the distant lights of Maharta. “It might be why they tried so hard to take it last week. If not for a way in, why not leave it and let them starve?”
De Loungville scratched his chin. “Maybe they don’t want trouble at their back.”
“Bah!” said Nakor. “Does this army look like it’s worried about trouble? This army is trouble. Trouble soon if they don’t get across that river. Soon there’ll be no food. Bad . . .” He turned to Erik. “What was that word?”
“Logistics.”
“Bad logistics. Baggage train all strung out from here up to Lanada. Men pissing into the river upstream, and soon men downriver got belly flux and bad runs. Horse dung everywhere up to your knees. Men don’t get food, men fight. It’s simple. They take this precinct”—he made a diving motion— “and take tunnel under river, then up into city.”
“There was that tunnel under the Serpent River before,” conceded Calis.
Hatonis said, “But there’s lots of bedrock under the City of the Serpent River. Our clans dug those tunnels over a period of two hundred years because of the storms of summer, the monsoons. You can’t safely cross the bridges when the seas arc high and the wind is that strong.”
“They get big storms here in Maharta?” asked Nakor.
“Yes,” admitted the clansman. “But I don’t know what the ground around here is like.”
“Doesn’t matter,” said Nakor. “A good builder, he’ll find a way.”
“Certainly a dwarf would know a way,” said Greylock.
Calis showed a small flash of irritation. “Whatever. We take a risk of getting killed no matter what we do. That’s not the point. It’s wasteful getting killed to get into a city that has no way out, and we don’t know there is a way out of the Western Precinct. We know that across the river is Maharta, and we don’t know if there’s a tunnel on this side.”
“What if I go and find one?” said Nakor.
Calis shook his head. “I don’t have any idea how you plan on getting in there, but the answer is no. I want every man ready to move out at midnight.
“Word’s been passed there some sort of celebration on tonight. The Pantathians and Saaur are making some sort of battle magic, then tomorrow the northern elements are supposed to hit the city.”
Nakor scratched his head. “There are some men building bridges north of the main camp, but they are not finished. Why this? And what tricks do the serpent men have to get this army across that river. They’ve been conjuring something all day long.”
“I don’t know,” answered Calis, “but I plan on every man being on the other side when the sun’s up.” He turned to Erik. “That’s your job. Those men from Nahoot’s company.”
Suddenly Erik’s stomach tightened. He knew what Calis was about to say. “Yes?”
“Put them around the horses and give them this to drink.” He handed Erik a large wineskin that sloshed. “Nakor’s dosed it so they’ll be unconscious for a while.”
Erik felt himself grin as he took the skin. “For a minute . . .”
“If Nakor hadn’t given me this drug, I would have told you to kill them,” Calis finished. “Now see to it.”
Erik turned away, again chilled and, for a reason he couldn’t put any name to, feeling shame.
The camp rang with alien sounds, music from distant lands, screams of joy and pain, and laughter, swearing, and, most of all, drums.
Saaur warriors pounded on large wooden drums stretched with hide. The sound echoed across the river like thunder, and rang in the cars like the blood’s own pulse. Bloody rites had concluded and now warriors readied themselves for the morning’s battle.
Horns blared and bells rang, and on and on pounded the drums.
Hatonis and his men stood near the horses, and Erik quickly saw that all eighteen of Nahoot’s men were unconscious. He knew that had any avoided the drug’s effect he was to kill them.
Erik returned to Calis and reported, “All eighteen are truly asleep.”
Praji said, “If they can sleep through that racket, they are indeed senseless men.”