mistake. Smoke
had no intention of fighting, and was so stubborn even Willow was
tempted to grumble.
Smoke claimed he was waiting for something to happen. He
wouldn’t say what.
Blade got stuck down south, in the territories yielded without a
fight, along the Main River. He was supposed to get the locals
together and keep any messengers from going back and forth. It was
an easy job. There were no bridges across the river and only four
places where it could be forded. The Shadowmasters must have been
preoccupied. Their suspicions were not aroused. Or maybe they just
assumed no news was good news.
What Smoke was waiting for happened.
Like Blade said, Taglios was hag-ridden by its priests. Three
major religions existed there, not in harmony. Each had its
splinters, factions, and subcults that feuded among themselves when
they weren’t feuding with the others. Taglian culture
centered upon religious differences and the efforts of the priests
to get ahead of each other. A lot of lower-class people
weren’t signed up with anybody. Especially out in the
country. Likewise the ruling family, who did not dare get religion
if they wanted to stay in charge.
Old Smoke was waiting for one of the boss priests to get the
idea he could make a name for himself and his tribe by getting out
and busting the heads of the invaders nobody else would fight.
“Purely a cynical political maneuver,” Smoke told
Willow. “The Prahbrindrah’s waited a long time to show
someone what can happen if they don’t do things his
way.”
He showed them.
One of the priests got the bright idea. He conned about fifteen
thousand guys into thinking they could handle experienced
professionals, heads up. He led the mob out to look for the
invaders. They didn’t have any trouble finding them. The
Shadowmasters’ commander thought this was what he was waiting
for, too. The Shadowmasters’ other conquests had all been
settled by one big brawl.
Willow and Smoke and a few others stood on top of a hill where
both sides could see them and spent an afternoon watching two
thousand men massacre fifteen thousand. The Taglians that got away
did so mostly because the invaders were too tired to chase
them.
“Now we’ll fight,” Smoke said. So Willow moved
his force up and poked till the invaders got aggravated and came
after him. He ran till they stopped. Then he poked again. And ran
again. And so forth. He got the notion from a poorly remembered
version of a time when the Black Company ran for a thousand miles
and led their enemies into a trap where they died almost to a man,
thinking they had it won almost to the end.
Maybe these guys heard the same story. Anyway, they didn’t
want to be led. First time they balked they just camped and
wouldn’t move. So Willow talked it over with Smoke and Smoke
rounded up some volunteers from the countryside and started
building a wall around the invaders.
Next time the invaders just turned and marched off toward
Taglios, which is what they should have done at the start, instead
of trying to get rich. So Willow jumped on them from behind and
kept making a nuisance of himself till he convinced the enemy
commander that he had to be gotten rid of or there just
wouldn’t be any rest.
He told Smoke, “I don’t know squat about strategy or
tactics or anything, but I figure I only got to work on one guy,
really. The head guy over there. I get him to do what I want, he
brings everybody else with him. And I know how to aggravate a guy
till he’ll fight me.”
Which is what he did.
The Shadowmaster’s general finally chased him into a town
that had been getting ready all along. It was a bigger version of
Cordy’s game. Only this time there wasn’t going to be a
fire. All the people had been got out and about twelve thousand
volunteers put in their place. While Willow and Smoke were running
the invaders around, those guys were building a wall.
Willow ran into the town and thumbed his nose. He did everything
he could to
had no intention of fighting, and was so stubborn even Willow was
tempted to grumble.
Smoke claimed he was waiting for something to happen. He
wouldn’t say what.
Blade got stuck down south, in the territories yielded without a
fight, along the Main River. He was supposed to get the locals
together and keep any messengers from going back and forth. It was
an easy job. There were no bridges across the river and only four
places where it could be forded. The Shadowmasters must have been
preoccupied. Their suspicions were not aroused. Or maybe they just
assumed no news was good news.
What Smoke was waiting for happened.
Like Blade said, Taglios was hag-ridden by its priests. Three
major religions existed there, not in harmony. Each had its
splinters, factions, and subcults that feuded among themselves when
they weren’t feuding with the others. Taglian culture
centered upon religious differences and the efforts of the priests
to get ahead of each other. A lot of lower-class people
weren’t signed up with anybody. Especially out in the
country. Likewise the ruling family, who did not dare get religion
if they wanted to stay in charge.
Old Smoke was waiting for one of the boss priests to get the
idea he could make a name for himself and his tribe by getting out
and busting the heads of the invaders nobody else would fight.
“Purely a cynical political maneuver,” Smoke told
Willow. “The Prahbrindrah’s waited a long time to show
someone what can happen if they don’t do things his
way.”
He showed them.
One of the priests got the bright idea. He conned about fifteen
thousand guys into thinking they could handle experienced
professionals, heads up. He led the mob out to look for the
invaders. They didn’t have any trouble finding them. The
Shadowmasters’ commander thought this was what he was waiting
for, too. The Shadowmasters’ other conquests had all been
settled by one big brawl.
Willow and Smoke and a few others stood on top of a hill where
both sides could see them and spent an afternoon watching two
thousand men massacre fifteen thousand. The Taglians that got away
did so mostly because the invaders were too tired to chase
them.
“Now we’ll fight,” Smoke said. So Willow moved
his force up and poked till the invaders got aggravated and came
after him. He ran till they stopped. Then he poked again. And ran
again. And so forth. He got the notion from a poorly remembered
version of a time when the Black Company ran for a thousand miles
and led their enemies into a trap where they died almost to a man,
thinking they had it won almost to the end.
Maybe these guys heard the same story. Anyway, they didn’t
want to be led. First time they balked they just camped and
wouldn’t move. So Willow talked it over with Smoke and Smoke
rounded up some volunteers from the countryside and started
building a wall around the invaders.
Next time the invaders just turned and marched off toward
Taglios, which is what they should have done at the start, instead
of trying to get rich. So Willow jumped on them from behind and
kept making a nuisance of himself till he convinced the enemy
commander that he had to be gotten rid of or there just
wouldn’t be any rest.
He told Smoke, “I don’t know squat about strategy or
tactics or anything, but I figure I only got to work on one guy,
really. The head guy over there. I get him to do what I want, he
brings everybody else with him. And I know how to aggravate a guy
till he’ll fight me.”
Which is what he did.
The Shadowmaster’s general finally chased him into a town
that had been getting ready all along. It was a bigger version of
Cordy’s game. Only this time there wasn’t going to be a
fire. All the people had been got out and about twelve thousand
volunteers put in their place. While Willow and Smoke were running
the invaders around, those guys were building a wall.
Willow ran into the town and thumbed his nose. He did everything
he could to
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