Robert Adams - Trumpets of War

Kicking off the felt shoes, he pulled his own tunic over his head, not even hearing the gasp that issued from between the red, red lips of the nude girl. But when he lay beside her, first placed his arms around her, he felt her stiff, tensed muscles, felt her slender form all a tremble, heard the ghost of a whimper, a sound of hopeless terror.

Restraining the insistent demands of his body, he released her and drew a little away from her, though leaving one hand in contact with her flesh. “Brandee,” he said in a voice that quavered only slightly, “you should have no fear of me. I am your husband, child; I mean you no harm, now or ever. If you so wish it, for tonight I’ll just seek out the bed that was previously here and sleep in that, that you may rest and sleep and compose yourself for the morrow. I have no kin here, nor either have you, so what we two do or do not do in this chamber and this bed tonight is no one’s business but ours. Come now, speak your thoughts to me, Brandee, tell me your wishes.”

A shudder rippled the length of her body, she sobbed one time, then she began to speak. “Ah . . . Ah’m truly sorry, mah lord husband . . . but . . . but when Ah . . . Ah saw it, Ah . . . It’s just so ... so huge, so much bigger than Ah’d thought it would be. Ah don’t think Ah can . . . that you can ... Ah know I should be, must be brave, that’s what my mothuh and aunts told me, but . . . but ...” Then she began to cry.

Tomos took her, enfolded her slender body in his arms and held her against his hairy chest, patting her back gently as she cried out her fears and her terrors. At some length, when the sobs had first muted, then ceased, he released her, and, propping himself upon an elbow so that he could the easier look into her swimming, blue-green eyes, he said, “Brandee, bravery is only necessary in the face of danger or of pain. I pose no danger to you and I will not willfully hurt you, so save your bravery for some time when it is needed. Because you still have your flower, there will no doubt be some pain, but no more than you can bear, and soon there will be none at all.

“My first wife, who died years ago of a summer fever, was smaller even than are you—only fourteen hands from soles to pate, and slender—yet we two experienced scant difficulty in doing the things that men and women do together, not after the first few days. Indeed, when she died, she was carrying our child in her womb.

“But look you, my ladywife, you have had a full measure of excitement this day just past, as too have I.

Let us sleep now. We two have the rest of our lives in which to learn to enjoy each other and breed me an heir or three. You must be the one to choose the time for a beginning of lovemaking. For now, sleep you well; 1 know that I shall.”

Brandee thought, as she felt the scarred, muscular, hairybody lying beside her slowly relax, heard his breathing become deep and regular, “This stranger to whom they have married me, he is so very kind, so thoughtful of me, of my feelings, he is so wise and so caring. Could Daddy have been aware of this? He never met my lord husband ... I don’t think; perhaps the Lord Duke Sitheeros told him. But I am so very glad that they married me to this man and not to that old, fat, toothlessly leering Chief Rahbin of the Nahkszfil Tribe, who is always undressing girls with his eyes and dribbling porridge down his chins and the fronts of his shirts. My lord husband keeps himself so very clean and smells so pretty, while I don’t think old Chief Rahbin has had a wash since he left his cradle.

“Yes, I think I could be very, very happy with this man to whom they have married me, this Duke Tomos Gonsalos.”

Despite his ever constant press of affairs, Thoheeks Mahvros was quick to grant an appointment—over the strident, almost carping arguments of his staff—to the signatory of a properly drafted letter. However, when the man actually stood before him, smiling, he was much amazed. Save only for certain racial differences—lack of height, a flat-muscled, wiry build, hair and skin barbarian-light—had he not known the rp-n, he would have taken him for an Ehleen gentleman from his dress, his manners, his cultured dialect.

“My, you have changed, my old friend,” he commented, shaking his head slowly. “Please be seated, there. You will have wine?” He signaled the hovering servant to pour, then waved him from out the chamber.

Once the forms, the polite, meaningless words, had been exchanged, the healths to each other and to Council and to the High Lord had been announced and dutifully sipped from the gilded silver goblets of much-watered wine, Mahvros said, “Now, all of that time-consuming foolishness completed, what can I do for you, Captain of Elephants Gil Djohnz?”

“My lord, I want to leave the army,” said Gil flatly.

“Well, surely, Gil, this would be a military matter, it would fall under the jurisdiction of Tomos Gonsalos or Thoheeks Pahvlos, not under mine,” Mahvros replied.

Gil sighed. “I spoke with Tomos; he agreed, though with regret. But when he sent me on to Pahvlos, the old bastard flatly refused. It would seem that he considers me to be some variety of military slave, thinks that I and my elephants are owned entirely by him and his army. Tomos went over and tried to reason with the hard-headed old fucker, but even he could get no more of a concession than that as the army is actually the property of Council and the thoheekseeahnee, then Council must make any decision that would serve to override his.”

Steepling his fingers and nodding, Mahvros commented, “He’s shrewd, but then we’ve all known that for years. He knows full well that so heavy is Council’s schedule of business, so petty a matter might not come up for years. Besides, Council can seldom agree on any point, it would seem; I’ve seen smaller bones of contention than this one would be promote personal verbal attacks, physical assaults in the very Council Chamber, duels and the hiring of assassins, on more than one occasion. We refer to ourselves as ‘noblemen’ and ‘gentlemen,’ but I have seen more of nobility and gentility in certain mountain barbarians than in the persons of certain Councillors. But, nonetheless, there are ways to circumvent the sure delays and chaos of Council.

“Who suggested that you come to me? Tomos?”

“No, my lord.” Gil shook his head. “Lord Sitheeros was the first to say that I should, but Tomos agreed when I mentioned what Lord Sitheeros had said. Tomos dictated the letter to his secretary and I signed it.”

“Heheh,” chuckled Mahvros, grinning. “You have good advisers, Gil, among the best, really. The Wolf of Iron Mountain and the Karaleen Fox are two fine men to have guarding your flanks. Of course, they know what many men do not know: right many matters never even go to the full Council, for many and varied reasons. Really earth-shaking decisions, of course, must be decided by the ayes of at least two thirds of Council; that’s the way that Thoheeks Grahvos and the early Council set it up.

“But matters of lesser importance, and your case would surely fall into this category, can be approved by half the Council plus one more vote, nor do said votes have to be cast before the rest of Council, nor even in the Council Chamber. Of course, the full Council is almost never here and assembled together, you know that—many are just too busy on their lands, some are infirm, Thoheeksee Pahvios and Portos are away on campaign for at least two thirds of any given year—therefore, in order to give full votes on important matters, most of the thoheeksee have given their proxies to men of like mind who are likely to be here, in Mehseepolis, more often than are they.

“As chairman of Council, I vote five—my own vote and four proxies. Thoheeks Bahos votes for himself and for a cousin, Thoheeks Gahlos; Thoheeks Grahvos has two votes that are his because his is a double thoheekseeahn; and Thoheeks Sitheeros, as I’m sure you know, owns three votes due to his triple thoheekseeahn. But in addition, Grahvos holds and votes two proxies and Sitheeros has three from as many border thoheekseeahnee. So the grand total is seventeen Council votes, exactly the number needed to approve your request that you be allowed to leave the army, so you may consider it done and the matter settled, my friend, and if Grand Strahteegos Thoheeks Pahvios doesn’t like it, he can go somewhere alone and cry.