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"I don't know if I'm glad or not, Entertainer. But one thing is sure. I'm going to be happy to get off this nag."
"Assuredly. Self, am not rider. Am shank's mare man, accustomed to walking. Am going to spend next two weeks lying on ample pillow of stomach." He glanced back. "Hai!"
A low white wave was rolling across the flat green countryside. Their pursuers were just a half mile behind.
He swatted Yasmid's mount with the flat of his saber, whipped his own, and began the race.
The Invincibles, on fresher animals, closed fast, but the fat man managed to reach the wood several hundred yards ahead. He flung himself off his horse, dragged Yasmid from hers, grabbed her hand and dragged her into the dense underbrush.
Chapter Fourteen:
SUMMER'S END
M owaffak Hali overcame the army of Ipopotam quite cleverly. He seized the poppy fields before they could be destroyed. But now bands of partisans roamed the countryside.
"They're a stiff-necked people, Lord," he admitted. "They won't accept amnesty."
"I don't want excuses, Mowaffak. I want them brought to heel."
"They're using the tactics we did before coming to power, Lord."
"Not exactly. There's a difference, Mowaffak. Aboud's people didn't know who their friends were. We do. Till they stop resisting slay every man you encounter. Burn their villages. Destroy their fields. Drive them into the forests. Pull down their heathen temples. Eradicate their devil-worshipping priests. And feed and treat kindly those who yield their arms."
"They're not wild dogs, Lord."
"I'm getting old, Mowaffak. There isn't an ounce of mercy in me anymore."
"I have news from the north, Lord. The northern host moved against us there."
A chill crawled over El Murid. His expression betrayed him.
"The news isn't bad, Lord. El-Kader turned them. And the Scourge of God has destroyed the Altean army. It's only a matter of time till he occupies Kavelin and links up with el Nadim."
"El-Kader succeeded without Nassef? This year's campaign is a success?"
"So it would seem. The Scourge of God is preoccupied with bin Yousif and the Guildsmen who slew Karim. He means to have his revenge. And yours, Lord."
El Murid became pensive. Mowaffak was politicking again. "I have my grievances with bin Yousif. But he's only a minor nuisance. Nassef is letting himself be distracted by a side issue. His warriors are needed against the army of the north. This is no time to indulge personal desire."
"My thought exactly, Lord."
Hali's expression betrayed him. Ipopotam was the grossest of side issues, of indulgences. Pacification was tying up thousands of warriors needed elsewhere.
"Go away, Mowaffak. Flog these people. Bring them to heel."
"As you command, Lord."
El Murid glared at Hali's retreating back. Once again Mowaffak had left him to wrestle with his conscience.
Mowaffak was right. But he dared not enter the moral and spiritual lists, to do battle with his addiction, while this war demanded his attention. The war between the soul and the flesh, when it came, would consume him. It would be total and without quarter.
Cued by his thinking, his old wounds began aching.
The Disciple's retinue were worried. Their master seemed to have lost his spirit, his zest, his drive. All too often he retreated into his own i
What could he do? the physician asked. He simply did not have the personal or moral courage to shed his procurer's role.
And because of that weakness, even Esmat himself held Esmat in contempt.
Altaf el-Kader was not known as an emotional man. His acquaintances knew him as one who let himself be rattled by nothing.
Nevertheless, he blew up when the crows of disaster fluttered in from Altea. Even his boldest subordinates could not approach him. But when the storm blew away, el-Kader was more cool than ever. He had, in a way, been reborn.
He spoke to the assembled captains of the Host of Illumination. "Gentlemen, you've heard the news. The Scourge of God has been sent to his reward by the same Guild scoundrels who robbed us of Karim's songs. The death of this one man, whom we revered and respected... "
An angry mutter began among his listeners.
"Be quiet!" he snapped. "I won't fall into that trap, too. We have people in Altea. Let them deal with the matter. What you and I must do is prove that the Host isn't the Scourge of God. We have to show that we can win without him. Quickly and impressively, for both our friends and enemies. Our foes were wavering. The Disciple's messages have won us converts by the thousand. We can't let the one take heart and the other grow fearful."
He paused to let his words take root. Then, "Prepare to march. We'll make our demonstration by destroying the northern army."
The wings of fear descended, brushing the necks of men who had known no trepidation when Nassef had been in command. El-Kader bore it. He knew the biggest proving would have to be of himself to his captains.
"You have heard me," he said. "Go. Prepare. I'll tell you more as it becomes necessary."
He was adopting Nassef s approach, revealing his thinking to no one. That seemed to reassure them. They were accustomed to operating in the dark.
He had chosen his mission. He attacked it with a flare and determination never before shown. But never before had the final responsibility rested on Altaf el-Kader. Now he had to answer to no one but himself—so he demanded more of el-Kader than ever Nassef had.
Despite his statement concerning Altea, he marched eastward. The immediate assumption was that he meant to punish Nassef's slayers. That had been the style of the Scourge of God, to say one thing and do the opposite. He let his entourage believe that he had had a change of heart. What his followers believed would also be believed by his enemies.
He gathered to the Host all the garrisons along the way, including the men holding the river crossings.
The northern army immediately leapt the river behind him. Its crossing required several days.
El-Kader heard and smiled.
He had pla
He got more. The Fates, having served the enemy long enough, re-enlisted with the Host of Illumination. The Duke of Greyfalls, having learned of Nassef's demise, had abandoned his hunt for the Scourge of God. He rejoined his command during its crossing. The resulting uncertainty at the highest echelon permitted el-Kader to shake the northern scouts.
He immediately turned westward. In hard marches he passed below the northerners and swung back toward the river. He was lying in wait when Greyfalls started to march toward Du
El-Kader hit him in a land of low hills, attacking from the flanks. He gave his foe no time to organize. The might of the northern knights proved useless. The deadly Itaskian bowmen became scattered before they could bring the punishing power of their weapons to bear.
Only the stubborn formations of pikemen from Iwa Skolovda and Dvar withstood the fury of the first charge. They remained brief-lived islands of stability in a maelstrom of death.
The knights of the north, as was the noble wont in defeat, abandoned their footbound followers to el-Kader's untender mercy and flew for the river crossings. But their enemy had anticipated them. His riders were there before them. Not a quarter reached the northern shore.
The men they abandoned fared better.
The infantry fought on, having no choice. Broken into ever smaller units, hunted mercilessly, the soldiers became scattered over a half dozen Lesser Kingdoms. Their losses, too, were brutal. Only one in three witnessed the coming of winter.