Pirates Of Gohar

They also suspected the city people of being unreliable, or at least infested with Kloret's spies. They were probably right. Kloret would hardly insist on keeping Imperial agents out of Mythor, unless he wanted a free hand for his own people to infiltrate the rebels there. Did he merely want to watch them, or did he perhaps dream of controlling them? That dream, at least, wasn't going to come true, now that the rebels of the back country had taken matters into their own hands.

With the help of the Maghri, the farmers would become the backbone of the rebellion. The Maghri were supposed to be sending nine thousand mounted warriors, and the farmers were supposed to raise more than seven thousand. In all of Mythor's lands the Goharans had only eight thousand fighting men. To resist the Maghri they relied on the aid of the farmers, but the farmers and the Maghri were now allies riding side by side against Gohar's power. Those rebels who would talk to Blade at all were supremely confident of victory.

Blade wasn't nearly as optimistic. The Maghri were brave, tough, and experienced, but followed more than two dozen different chiefs. The farmers were also brave, but not nearly as experienced. They followed one leader, Gribbon, but what he didn't know about warfare would fill a large book. The fight was going to be a bloody one, no matter how it came out.

Blade was even less optimistic when he learned how the Maghri were going to be paid for their support. They were going to be allowed to loot the property of all Goharans and any Mythorans who didn't support the rebellion. To Blade, this sounded like a perfect prescription for a complete shambles. What would keep the Maghri from stealing everything that wasn't nailed down or on fire, and never mind who owned it? What would keep people stripped of all their property from turning against the rebels? And after that, what would prevent chaos in Mythor?

Blade didn't know, and apparently no one else seemed to be thinking of the danger. After getting a few blank or suspicious stares, Blade reluctantly decided to keep his mouth shut. If he could do anything at all, it would only be after the fighting was over.

When that would be, he didn't know. The rebel army was supposed to gather swiftly and secretly, then strike with surprise on its side. Now the storm had turned a good part of the countryside into a sea of mud. Nobody was going anywhere swiftly.

In theory, it would have been wise to postpone the uprising for a few weeks. But autumn was coming on, and they couldn't afford to lose that much time from the campaigning season. Also, the Maghri were already over the border when the great storm struck. Surprise might already be lost. So there was no way for the rebels but forward. Even Blade admitted this.

The storm also did some good. Neither side could move quickly. Also, rumors had it that many Goharan soldiers were now scattered across the countryside, helping victims of the storm. The general commanding in Mythor could barely put five thousand of his men in the field at the best of times. Now he might be able to send out even fewer. The rebels might ride most of the way to Mythor before they had to fight a battle.

Blade's first five days with the army were long and slow. The growing mass of horsemen crawled across the countryside, through mud which sometimes reached the knees of the horses. More than once the carts of the supply train bogged down completely, and everybody dismounted to help the teamsters dig out.

By the end of the fifth day, none of the teamsters would hear a word against Khraishamo or Rhodina. The pirate used his massive strength freely, wielding a spade or sometimes heaving a cart free by sheer musclepower. Rhodina was always ready to lay a fire and heat soup and spiced ale when the carts were ready to move again.

Blade wasn't able to do quite so well, but gradually the Maghri and even some of the rebels came to trust him to deliver messages. He also managed to acquire a bow and quiver of arrows for himself, and a battle ax for Khraishamo.

«It's not quite as good as the one you had aboard Blue Swallow,» he told the pirate. «But I'll see that you get one like it when the war's over.»

«Thank you, Blade,» said Khraishamo. «But it's I who should be giving you a gift of weapons. I owe you more than I can ever pay you in three lifetimes.»

«Then don't waste the only one you'll have trying to do the impossible,» said Blade. «I won't thank you, and Rhodina will never forgive you for neglecting her.» Khraishamo was laughing as Blade spurred his horse back toward the head of the column. He rode a Mythoran horse, but he'd fitted it with improvised stirrups. Some of the Mythorans were doing the same.

Day after day the army marched south, and day after day it grew. A tribe or a war band at a time, the Maghri came in. There were plenty of passes in the hills to the east, and the Goharans had garrisons in very few of them. At every estate, farm, or village, riders and wagons would come out, sometimes only a handful, sometimes a hundred or more. Blade began to suspect the rebels might actually gather the sixteen thousand men of their dreams. Certainly they already had at least twelve thousand.

At the end of the ninth day, Blade heard whispers that the army would turn toward the coast tomorrow. The plan was to reach the coast, then march on Mythor from the south. Many of the farms and estates there were rich, some were in the hands of Goharan sympathizers, and none of them had suffered heavily from the storm. There would be good foraging for both men and horses.

Blade hoped there wouldn't be any surprises along with the good foraging. The rebel army hadn't been attacked, but twelve thousand horsemen were hardly invisible. The Goharan general in Mythor was supposed to be a good man, who might have plans of his own. The rebels hadn't been scouting, and Blade couldn't help wondering if they were going to pay heavily for that mistake.

By nightfall, Blade had more personal matters on his mind. Gribbon sent him a message.

«Tomorrow at dawn, you meet Sigluf in a dueling circle. The fight will be to the death.»

Blade went to bed early that night and slept soundly. He'd fought too many duels in too many Dimensions against more formidable opponents than Sigluf to lose any sleep over this one. Nonetheless, he was awake before most of the camp, inspecting his horse, harness, and weapons. By the time other people were waking up, he'd eaten breakfast and was ready for a few last words with Khraishamo and Rhodina.

He gave them his bow and arrows, since Khraishamo had learned to use a bow for fishing on Shell-Island. He still preferred hand-to-hand weapons, and said so. «Also, I don't know if I can hit anything on dry land with this.»

«With luck, you won't have to,» said Blade. «But it will be good for hunting if you need to get away from here. There's always a chance my luck today will be bad. If it is, I don't know if you can trust Gribbon. Better wait until night, then slip off and head for the sea. The teamsters should help you, and you can hide along the coast until the war's over.»

«We'll be thinking about it, Blade, but-«

«You'll do it,» he said sharply, then smiled and kissed Rhodina. «Don't let this overmuscled lout get any ideas about avenging me on Sigluf, and don't get any yourself. If I'm dead, I'm dead, and the English will be out one Historian. You people don't have to escort me into the next world.»

Then he mounted and rode off toward the open ground where the duel would take place. He hoped he'd convinced them, but from the look on Khraishamo's face he doubted it. Those two gallant, magnificent idiots!

The place for the duel was a circle a hundred yards across, laid out on level ground at the foot of a low hill. Maghri with lances and Mythorans with swords stood around the circle, glowering at each other except when they turned to glower at Blade when he rode up. Blade hoped the duel wasn't going to cause bad blood between the two allies. He was willing to take risks for himself, but he didn't care to see the whole rebellion against Gohar collapse.