swordsmen strung along the River itself than there are here. Why come all the way back to Casr to recruit?”
“Probably for gold,” Katanji suggested wryly. “Fighting a war would be expensive.”
They all looked inquiringly at Endrasti, as if inviting him to change his story, which he did. “As far I recall his exact words, my lords, he said, ‘Shonsu knows a lot more about fighting sorcerers than I do, and it’s time I went home and gave my wife twins.’ My lords.”
The remark about twins could not be funny while Nnanji might be on his deathbed, and the suggestion that he did not feel as competent as Wallie to wage this war was so shockingly out of character that for a moment no one said a word. Wallie was less surprised than the rest of them, though. Knowing of Wallie’s past life on Earth, which he called his dream world, Nnanji would at least have wanted to consult him on the best way to tackle the crisis.
Knowing there was still more to come, Wallie prompted Endrasti to finish his story. Nnanji had withdrawn downstream with care, warning the city garrisons of potential trouble and in most cases reinforcing them from his diminishing troop. On Slaters’ Day he had sent Adept Hazenhik off with dispatches. He and his companions were also missing.
“A week later, on Jewelers’ Day, we set off for Casr ourselves. We were down to a mere score of men.”
That score of men was the most surprising thing about Nnanji’s reaction, though. His usual response to an emergency was to take off like a startled hare, traveling with only one or two companions, because that was much faster. A small group could always sail on the fastest ships, even if they had to sleep on deck, and could almost always acquire horses for the land crossings, buying them outright if necessary. Wallie thought of those madcap junkets as the Nnanji express. Like Julius Caesar, he would often turn up unannounced where he was least expected. This time he had chosen the safe way. Either the danger had seemed extreme, or he was starting to feel his age at last.“Thank you,” Wallie said. “About a hundred days later, when the liege had reached Quo, he was attacked in his sleep, on the same night I was attacked in Casr. Moreover, three courier parties have failed to arrive and must be presumed lost: Honorable Ruderedispatched from Arbo, Lord Mibullim from Fo, and Adept Hazenhik from… where did you say?”
“Rea, my lord.”
“Rea.” Wallie folded his arms and looked around the distressed faces. “Add it all up, and we lost three score swordsmen, some of them women. Does anyone deny that we— yes, master?”
Endrasti was fidgeting for attention. “Begging your pardon, liege, but there were two heralds, also. After Lord Nnanji withdrew to Arbo, he sent a herald to the elders of Nolar and another to the king of Plo, proclaiming that he had been attacked and would retaliate in force unless he received submission and compensation.”
“What happened to those heralds?” asked Zoariyi.
“Their heads were returned in bags of salt, my lord.”
Annoyed that he had not been told of this additional atrocity sooner, Wallie said, “No ambiguity about that answer.” Heralds, like priests, were supposed to be inviolable.
“It sounds as if Lord Nnanji was lucky to reach even as far as Quo,” Dorinkulu said.
Endrasti glanced at Wallie and received a nod. “I may be able to explain that, my lords. There is an overland shortcut from Rea to Thoy, so the couriers would all go that way. Lord Nnanji still had too many men with him—he couldn’t have rented enough mules or horses, so he’d have had to make several trips. Also he’d have had trouble finding adequate shipping at Thoy, whereas we still had two good ones at the Rea end. We came by—”
Wallie cut him off. “Thank you. So he came by a different route. Another possibility would be that the liege’s party was simply too strong to attack. Gentlemen, we have an assembly scheduled
“Probably for gold,” Katanji suggested wryly. “Fighting a war would be expensive.”
They all looked inquiringly at Endrasti, as if inviting him to change his story, which he did. “As far I recall his exact words, my lords, he said, ‘Shonsu knows a lot more about fighting sorcerers than I do, and it’s time I went home and gave my wife twins.’ My lords.”
The remark about twins could not be funny while Nnanji might be on his deathbed, and the suggestion that he did not feel as competent as Wallie to wage this war was so shockingly out of character that for a moment no one said a word. Wallie was less surprised than the rest of them, though. Knowing of Wallie’s past life on Earth, which he called his dream world, Nnanji would at least have wanted to consult him on the best way to tackle the crisis.
Knowing there was still more to come, Wallie prompted Endrasti to finish his story. Nnanji had withdrawn downstream with care, warning the city garrisons of potential trouble and in most cases reinforcing them from his diminishing troop. On Slaters’ Day he had sent Adept Hazenhik off with dispatches. He and his companions were also missing.
“A week later, on Jewelers’ Day, we set off for Casr ourselves. We were down to a mere score of men.”
That score of men was the most surprising thing about Nnanji’s reaction, though. His usual response to an emergency was to take off like a startled hare, traveling with only one or two companions, because that was much faster. A small group could always sail on the fastest ships, even if they had to sleep on deck, and could almost always acquire horses for the land crossings, buying them outright if necessary. Wallie thought of those madcap junkets as the Nnanji express. Like Julius Caesar, he would often turn up unannounced where he was least expected. This time he had chosen the safe way. Either the danger had seemed extreme, or he was starting to feel his age at last.“Thank you,” Wallie said. “About a hundred days later, when the liege had reached Quo, he was attacked in his sleep, on the same night I was attacked in Casr. Moreover, three courier parties have failed to arrive and must be presumed lost: Honorable Ruderedispatched from Arbo, Lord Mibullim from Fo, and Adept Hazenhik from… where did you say?”
“Rea, my lord.”
“Rea.” Wallie folded his arms and looked around the distressed faces. “Add it all up, and we lost three score swordsmen, some of them women. Does anyone deny that we— yes, master?”
Endrasti was fidgeting for attention. “Begging your pardon, liege, but there were two heralds, also. After Lord Nnanji withdrew to Arbo, he sent a herald to the elders of Nolar and another to the king of Plo, proclaiming that he had been attacked and would retaliate in force unless he received submission and compensation.”
“What happened to those heralds?” asked Zoariyi.
“Their heads were returned in bags of salt, my lord.”
Annoyed that he had not been told of this additional atrocity sooner, Wallie said, “No ambiguity about that answer.” Heralds, like priests, were supposed to be inviolable.
“It sounds as if Lord Nnanji was lucky to reach even as far as Quo,” Dorinkulu said.
Endrasti glanced at Wallie and received a nod. “I may be able to explain that, my lords. There is an overland shortcut from Rea to Thoy, so the couriers would all go that way. Lord Nnanji still had too many men with him—he couldn’t have rented enough mules or horses, so he’d have had to make several trips. Also he’d have had trouble finding adequate shipping at Thoy, whereas we still had two good ones at the Rea end. We came by—”
Wallie cut him off. “Thank you. So he came by a different route. Another possibility would be that the liege’s party was simply too strong to attack. Gentlemen, we have an assembly scheduled
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