Chapter 22

"Good morning," Nurm greeted them calmly, looking up from his breakfast as they were escorted into his camp by a pair of sentries the next morning. "From the look of you, you've got news for us. What brings you here, and who is your friend?"

"I have some news for you, all right. Most of it bad." Mak explained about Riggan's treachery. "I'm afraid he's going to cause us a lot of trouble. Oh, and this is Melrath. He is the brother of Gorath, one of the soldiers we captured when we stole the ponies. He claims to be loyal to King Norgan, and asked to come with me when I told him about what Riggan had done."

"All right, he can stay if you're sure he's really on our side. He can go back with us, but we'll keep him under guard until we've rejoined the rest of our people. I'll leave it up to Norgan to decide whether he is to be trusted or not." Nurm stood up, wiping his hands on his tunic. "We'd better hurry and get back to our main camp before Riggan can get organized. He knows what our plans are, and if he moves fast enough to get his soldiers into place between us and the pass, we'll be in real trouble."

"I hadn't thought of him doing that," Mak admitted. "I guess I figured that he'd attack us from behind."

"He might, but I think he's smarter than that. We would have to fight him anyway, since we can't have him harassing us from the rear as we retreat over the mountains. It won't do any harm for us to be prepared, no matter what he does. All that we can do is to move as fast as we can, and try to get away before he cuts us off. He knows that we've had to move far too soon because winter is coming, and that we never intended to fight the whole Chakchan army. He'll hit us as soon as he can, before we get too many more crossbows made. You're in charge of keeping track of what he's doing." Nurm called one of his sentans over to where they stood. "You and Kim can keep on scouting around, spying on Chakcha City. I'll send a couple of squads with you so that you can make sure that Riggan doesn't sneak out and circle around without our seeing him, and so that you'll have runners to send us a warning when he does move."

"Yeah, or in case they catch a few of us."

"That, too. Where did you get the sword?"

Mak told of finding the ancient crypt, and Nurm shook his head in wonder. "This land is full of strange things. I'm sure that we'd find a lot more of them if we had time to do some exploring. Well, maybe another time. I'll give the orders to get started, and send another runner ahead to let Jewel know we're on our way."

Mak could feel the tension winding ever tighter as he watched and waited, but it was only a couple of days after he had set up his ring of scouts around the city that Riggan's army began to move. Just after dawn, under a cold blue sky that seemed to wash all of the forest with golden autumn sunlight, the gates of the city creaked open. From where they watched at the edge of the forest, all that Mak and his scouts could see at first was a cloud of dust that moved to the sound of drums and deepthroated horns.

He sent hurried orders for his scouts to fall back as squads of fast runners armed with light spears led the way, scouting carefully ahead to flush out any possible ambush. Columns of heavily armed soldiers came next, followed by men and what few ponies they had packing heavy loads. More squads of lightly armed men guarded their flanks and brought up the rear.

Mak sent a couple of runners ahead with the news, then called in the rest of his ring of scouts and followed at the army's slower pace. He had too few soldiers to even try to delay Riggan's advance, and to his dismay, he soon realized that Nurm's fears had been well founded. Riggan didn't head directly for Nurm's camp, but swung left to pass it, approaching it from the south and west. Nurm had guessed right about where Riggan would attack!

Remembering what Nurm had told him of his world's history, Mak thought that this panorama must be something that hadn't been seen in ages. Crowned with a golden helmet, King Riggan was an imposing figure, the focus of all eyes in a bright blue enameled breastplate and a flowing goldenyellow cloak that streamed out behind him in the breeze. The bright blue tunics of the sentans formed a short line behind him. To their immediate rear, rows of soldiers in dark brown tunics stood with their spears and shields at the ready, clubs slung at their belts. Decans in crimson tunics, multicolored pennants tied to their spears, made bright spots of color at the head of each squad. In the far distance, the whitetipped mountains bulked dark against the pale blue sky.

Facing the deep green of the forest, the Army of T'Chak numbered more than five hundred soldiers. While Nurm's force consisted of at least half again as many women, they were far smaller and much too lightly armed for any kind of direct encounter. Most of the women were armed only with light throwing spears and flimsy leathercovered wicker shields. Fewer than a hundred bore hastily made crossbows, while against them stood hundreds of soldiers carrying heavy spears and clubs! Worst of all, the initiative rested with the enemy. The Chakcha soldiers were an obstacle that Nurm and the True Folk women had to sweep from their path if they were to escape to safety across the mountains.

Mak's thoughts were interrupted by a single blast from the Chakcha battle horns. King Riggan walked forward, flanked by two of his sentans, until he was more than a long spear cast in front of his men.

"Nurm!" His voice, pitched to carry above the rumble of voices from behind him, came clearly to their ears. "Nurm, come forth. I cry truce for speech before battle."

Nurm turned to Jewel. "You know what to do if this is a trick. Norgan, Mak, follow me. We'll listen to what he has to say."

The three of them went to meet Riggan, stopping some ten paces away.

"What do you have to say to us?" Nurm's voice, calm and dignified, bridged the gap with no apparent effort.

"There is no reason for us to fight. Nurm, I know how you feel about useless killing, and a battle here will see many die. It may be that none of us will see tomorrow's sunrise."

"You are the one who has set an army across our path. For what purpose have you done this if not to force us to fight?"

"You are taking my subjects away from my lands. You tell them that they will find homes and freedom on the far side of the mountains, but my priests know better. They have revealed to me that you plan to take them to a land of demons, where they will find a worse slavery than what they have known here," he shouted. "I say that they shall not go!"

"Your priests are liars, like all of their kind, and fornicators with pigs," Nurm answered, his deep voice still calm. He turned his head, one outstretched arm encompassing the army of True Folk women. "These women and their men were never your subjects. They were nothing but farm animals, to be bred and butchered at your whim. Lower than slaves, since slaves are accounted as people. And if I should step aside, let you herd them back to your city, what then? They would not stay. Their men are gone across the mountains. By ones and twos, by tens and twenties they would slip away. They know that your priests speak nothing but lies, that freedom awaits them on the other side of these mountains. You cannot hold a slave who will either be free or die!" Nurm's voice had gradually risen until these last words had been fairly shouted forth.

Riggan's voice was also pitched to carry to the two armies. "No one here speaks of slavery. They are my subjects, and I swore long ago that no subject of mine would be a slave. Any who return with me shall do so as free men and women, free citizens equal to any in my realm. They shall own their lands, and the food from the fields they till will belong to them. None shall oppress them, none shall seek revenge on them for past acts. Yes, I can guess at the folly of trying to enslave an armed and valiant people. With the weapons you have taught them to use, they are certainly both armed and valiant. Oh, I know that many have already fled, the children and the aged and most of the men. Let them go. That part is done. What I say is that these others shall not depart!" His closing words were in a ringing shout that was echoed by a ragged cheer from the Chakcha ranks and shrill cries of derision from the True Folk women.

"And what of me?" King Norgan stepped forward, his voice challenging. "What of my kingdom, and the crown that you have stolen from me?"

"Stolen? That is a harsh word, little brother. I stole nothing that you had not already lost, with your oppressions, your intrigues, your petty wenching." He laughed, but it was a bitter sound. "I am king now! And a far better king than you would ever have been, however long you had reigned. To my people in your army I say stay! To Nurm and his people I say go or stay. Win or lose here, they have the freedom of this land, to travel and to trade. To you, my elder brother," Riggan's voice became even harsher, "playmate of my youth and son of my father and mother, I say GO! Go forth from this land, never to return. If my soldiers find you here after tomorrow's sunrise I will have them shackle you in that same cell from which your allies released me. The secret passages will be blocked with freshly mortared walls of stone, and there will be none to come to your rescue. Now! What is your answer, Nurm? Will you go as you came, alone and unheralded? Or shall our two armies strew this field with blood and dead bodies? How do you answer?"

Both armies seemed to hold their collective breaths as they waited for the answer. Nurm looked at the hardy band of True Folk women with their light spears and flimsyseeming crossbows, drawn up just out of the shadow of the trees. His gaze travelled from them across the ranks of the Chakcha soldiers, drawn up in their solidly ordered ranks, and he sadly shook his head at the sight.

"There is no other way," he replied, sadly. "The die has long since been cast. I say, FIGHT!"

The ranks of both armies surged a step forward, then held fast, awaiting orders. Nurm and Riggan both pivoted and walked away from their meeting place. Their companions followed, though not without many a covert glance by Riggan's sentans at the enemy behind them.