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He shook the thought aside and returned his attention to Pedi.
A part of him wished that she'd conducted this briefing sooner than this, but she'd been very little in evidence since the sojourn at Shesul Pass. Part of that was because of how much of her time had been devoted to nursing the now clearly recovering Cord, but she'd been nearly invisible even when she wasn't attending to the shaman's needs. In fact, she'd spent much of her time sleeping in the back of a turom cart, which Roger put down to recovery from all the time she'd spent with the ailing Cord. She'd certainly earned the downtime, at any rate, and she appeared to be on the mend as well. Her energy levels seemed to be up today, anyway, and at the moment, happiness at being home was written in every line of her body language.
"The city across the way is Mudh Hemh, and the closer one, the ruined one, is Uthomof. It fell to the Krath in the time of my great-grandfather, and they passed on to besiege the walls of Mudh Hemh itself. But in my grandfather's time, we drove them back to Queicuf and built Nopet Nujam. They lost heavily in that battle, and they've rarely sent great forces against us since."
She looked down at the attacking army and shook her head in one of the human gestures she had absorbed.
"I fear we have, as you humans would say, 'ticked them off,' " she added. "May I borrow your binoculars, please?"
Roger handed them over. They were clumsier than his helmet systems, but they were also more powerful, and Pedi observed the nearer fortress through them for several moments. Then she nodded.
"My father's emblem is on the walls, along with those of virtually all the clan-chiefs. I wonder who defends Mudh Hemh?"
"I imagine we should go find out," the prince said, updating his map to reflect her information and dumping it into the network. Pahner had decided that the humans could make use of the low-powered, low probability of intercept, inter-toot network. It was unlikely that the standard communications and recon satellite that was parked over the port would be able to pick it up.
"Father is not going to be happy about any of this," Pedi warned him.
"Not even about having you back?" Roger asked lightly. Then he smiled. "Well, in that case, we'll just have to see if we can't persuade him to be happier."
* * *
It took nearly three hours to arrange the meeting. The sun was on its way down by the time Roger, Pahner, and a cluster of Marines and Mardukans—including Pedi and an adamant, if barely ambulatory, Cord—were brought into the presence of the Gastan.
Pedi's father was short for Mardukan, not much taller than an average Mardukan female, but broad as a wall. The double swords which were the customary armament of a Shin warrior were slung across his back, and between those and the gaggle of trophy-covered chieftains at his back, he was quite the picture of a barbarian war chief.
Roger waved Pedi forward, and she stepped in front of her father, a leather bag in one hand, and bowed her head.
"Father, I have returned."
"So I was told." The Gastan spoke quietly, sparing the humans barely a glance. "Benan," he added.
"Benan, Father," she agreed. "And allied to the humans."
No one could have missed the emphasis she'd placed upon that final noun, or the ever so slight edge of challenge in her body language. But if the Gastan noticed either, he gave absolutely no sign of it.
"I suspect you have something for me in the bag?"
Pedi bowed again, slightly. Then she reached into the bag and removed the head of the Kirsti high priest. She held it out by its horns, and a whisper ran through the mass of chiefs like a wind in the pass. The Gastan contemplated it for a moment, then reached out and took it from her.
"Taken by you?"
"Yes, Father."
"I have an army at the gates, I'm holding the reason, and I have a daughter who confesses to the crime. You know that we are—were—at peace with the Krath. The penalty for such an offense is to be given to the Fire Priests."
"And what of their offense against us, Father?" she snarled. "What of the taking of my party, of the attack upon Mudh Hemh?"
"A price we accept to prevent ... that," he said, gesturing with one false-hand in the direction of the surflike sounds of combat. Roger suddenly realized that they were very near the top of the wall, probably in the upper levels of one of the bastions flanking the main gate.
"What do you think I should do, Daughter?" the Gastan asked after moment.
"I suppose ..." She hesitated for a moment, then inhaled and raised her head proudly. "I suppose I should be turned over to the priests. If it will end the war."
"Over my dead body," Roger said conversationally, and smiled.
"Perhaps, human," the Gastan said. "And we have yet to deal with you. In fact, it is not my daughter towards whom the Fire Priests bend their malice, but one 'Baron Chang.' Would that be you, human?"
"It would," Roger replied. "And you won't be handing me over like a lamb to the slaughter, either."
"Baron," the Gastan mused. "That is a noble of your human lands, yes?"
"Yes," Roger agreed.
"You are responsible for the good of others, 'Baron'? You hold their lives in your hand and feel the weight of that?"
"Yes," Roger replied soberly.
"I have lost over four hundred Shin warriors since this war started, 'Baron.' Including Thertik, my son and heir." Roger heard Pedi inhale sharply, but the Gastan's attention never wavered from the human. "That is the price my people and I have already paid. And you think that I would quail at the thought of turning you over to the Krath if it ends this slaughter?"
"I don't know," Roger said. "I would ask you this one thing, though. If they came up to you and pointed to one of your warriors and said 'Give him to me. We will sacrifice him to the God and devour him, and that will end this war,' would you?"
The Gastan regarded him levelly for a long moment, then made a gesture of ambiguity.
"Would you?" he responded.
"No," Roger said. "That was the choice put to us, and I rejected it. Pointedly."
"Hmmm. But just who are you responsible for, 'Baron'? This group? These ragged mercenaries? Humans seem to have such in plenitude. Why not give one, if it saves others?"
"Because humans, and Mardukans, aren't pawns," Roger said, then sighed. "I can stand here debating this all day if you like, I suppose, but it's really not my forte. So are you going to try to kill us, or not?"
"So quick to the battle," the Gastan said with a gesture of humor. "Do you think you would win?"
"That depends on your definition of 'win,' " Roger said. "We'll make it out of this citadel alive, some of us, and we'll collect our group and leave. You'll get overrun by the Krath while you're trying—and failing—to kill us, and while that happens, we'll keep right on heading for the spaceport. It's nothing that we haven't done before. It will, however, tick off my asi's benan. I have to consider that."
"Hmmm," the Gastan said again. "You're just going to walk to the spaceport, 'Baron'?"
"Of course," Roger said. "We're humans, after all. They'll accept us."
"I see that you've fallen into evil company," Pedi's father said. One of Roger's eyebrows arched at the apparent non sequitur, and the Gastan gestured at the IAS journalist who had been quietly recording the entire meeting. "We have warning from the Office of the Governor that this man is a wanted criminal, a dangerous traitor and thief who should be returned to the port for trial," he said.
"I'm what?" Mansul lowered the Zuiko and glared at the Gastan.
"I have other such messages, as well," the Shin continued as if the journalist had never spoken. "One of them mentions a group of humans, ragged mercenaries who may attempt to pass themselves off as Imperial Marines. They are to be considered very dangerous and should be killed on sight and without warning. There is a reward—a very attractive one, in fact—for their heads. What do you think of that,'Baron'?"