Glen Cook - Splinter Of The Mind's Eye

"Aboud says we have to chase Nassef off the coast. He was pretty definite about it."

"Did he have any suggestions? How much help is he going to send?"

"None. And no ideas either. Just a flat-out order to do the job."

Radetic peered at Yousif. The Wahlig's face had gone gray with despair.

"This is the beginning of the end, Megelin. Unless you can produce a miracle here. They've abandoned us."

Radetic thought he understood. "You could pretend the letter never arrived. You can't commit suicide."

"Megelin, I can't. I'm a man of honor. I don't think I could explain that to a westerner. Even a westerner who has been around as long as you. You see my men there? They know I'm fighting a losing battle. But they stick with me year after year. They don't see that they have any choice. Neither have I. Pledges of honor have been made. Aboud's orders leave me no room for maneuver. I have to try to beat Nassef even when I know that I can't."

"Haroun? Are you listening?"

"Yes, Megelin." The youth was as close as Radetic's shadow. As always. He followed his teacher everywhere, watching with those wide, curious eyes, logging every detail of the siegework in an infallible memory.

"Pay attention to this. Listen to your father. He's talking about paying the price of an absolute and inflexible concept of duty. Don't ever push a man into the corner he's in. And don't ever let yourself get shoved into one like it. Yousif, there has to be a way around destroying yourself because of Aboud's stupidity."

"It's our way, Megelin. It's mine. I have to do something ."

"Isn't this something?" Radetic swept an arm round to include everything happening in Sebil el Selib. "Isn't this enough? We've been bled white. We just don't have our strength anymore. Yousif!"

The Wahlig stepped back from his sudden intensity. "What?"

"I get the feeling you're thinking about going on through the pass. To meet Nassef and martyr yourself in some big last battle. Don't do it. Don't waste yourself."

"Megelin—"

"At least set your schedule so you can do it after you've finished here. Would that violate the spirit of Aboud's orders? Only a fool leaves behind an enemy who can close a trap on him later."

Yousif mused. "You're right, of course. You always are. I'm not thinking this morning. I'm so tired of fighting and Aboud's indifference that part of me just wants to hurry the end."

"Have you explored the pass? Is there a narrow passage where you could ambush Nassef? Where you could roll boulders down on him? This is our last great cry of defiance, Yousif. Why don't we make it memorable without getting ourselves martyred?"

"All right."

The Wahlig departed. He seemed less depressed.

Radetic watched as the trebuchet crews cranked the arms of the engines back to throwing position. They were clumsy and slow. "Damn!" he muttered. "What I wouldn't give for a company of Guildsmen."

Fuad materialized. "I don't know what you said to Yousif, but thanks. He was ready to throw himself on his sword."

"Not much, really."

"He told you the news?"

"That Aboud isn't going to help? Yes. Damn the fool anyway. I thought sure Farid would talk him into sending us something."

"The Crown Prince won't be talking anybody into anything anymore. Didn't he tell you? Farid is dead."

Very carefully, like an old cat searching for just the right place to curl up, Radetic looked round and chose himself a stone on which to sit. "He's dead? Farid?"

Fuad nodded.

"He had help making his exit? The Harish finally got him?"

The cult was trying to exterminate the Quesani family. They failed more often than they succeeded, but scared hell out of the family by trying. Farid had become a favorite target. He had escaped their attentions three times.

"Not this time. This time Nassef sent his own expert. He slipped Karim and a couple of hundred Invincibles into the wastes north of Al Rhemish. Last week they ambushed Farid while he was lion hunting. It was a big hunt."

"That's sad. It really is. Sometimes I think there really is a God who's on El Murid's side."

"You don't know how sad it is. They didn't just kill Farid. I said it was a big hunt. They got most of his brothers, his retainers, a bunch of Aboud's officers and ministers and the Wahlig of Es Sofala and a lot of his people."

"Good heavens. A disaster."

"A hell of a coup if you're Nassef. He's carved the heart out of the Quesani. You know who's left? Who our beloved Crown Prince is now? Ahmed."

"Ahmed? I don't know the name."

"With reason. He's a nothing. I wish I didn't know him. He's a damned woman, if you ask me. I wouldn't be surprised if he prefers boys."

"No wonder Yousif was so grim."

"Megelin?" Haroun piped. "Does that mean it's over? Uncle Fuad? Did we lose the war when we weren't looking?"

Fuad laughed sourly. "A good turn of phrase, Haroun. A fine way to say it. Yes."

"No," Radetic countered. "It's never over till you surrender. In your own heart."

Fuad laughed again. "Bravely spoken, teacher. Fine talk. But it doesn't change the facts."

Radetic shrugged. "Haroun, let's see if they're ready with that spoon trebuchet."

The crew was cranking the machine for a test shot when they arrived. Radetic watched while they ignited a bundle of brush, tipped it into the spoon, then flipped the blazing missile over the New Castle wall.

"Will it start a fire, Megelin?"

"Probably not. But it'll keep them nervous."

"Why do it, then?"

"Battles can be won in men's minds, Haroun. That's what I meant when I told your uncle it's not over till you surrender in your heart. The sword isn't the only weapon that will wear an enemy down."

"Oh." Haroun's face took on that look he got when he wanted to remember something forever.

Two days passed. And still Nassef did not come. Megelin could feel the contempt radiating from the coast. Nassef did not consider them dangerous.

He would learn.

Megelin sent for Yousif, who wore a bright expression when he appeared. The Wahlig seemed to have made peace with himself.

"I'm going to bring her down now," Radetic told him. He gave a signal. "Fuad, get the men ready. The way we rehearsed it."

Fuad muttered something uncomplimentary and stalked off. A gust of activity swept the valley. It became a gale. Yousif's warriors gathered for the assault.

The trebuchets ceased pounding the old castle. The wall had held, but barely.

The engine crews dragged their machines around to face the New Castle.

An hour passed. Yousif became impatient. "When's something going to happen?" he demanded.

Radetic indicated smoke trailing out of cracks at the base of the wall. "When you mine a wall you have to shore it up with timbers. When you're ready to bring it down you fill the chamber underneath with brush and set it afire. It takes time for the timbers to burn through. Ah. Here we go."

A deep-throated grinding assailed the air. The cracks grew. Pieces of masonry popped out of the wall. Then, with a startling suddenness, a twenty-foot-wide section dropped straight down, virtually disappearing into the earth.

"Perfect!" Radetic enthused. "Absolutely perfect. Fuad!" he shouted. "Go ahead! Attack now!" He turned to Yousif. "Don't forget to watch the New Castle for a sally."

The gutting of the old fortress took under four hours. It was almost a disappointment. There weren't enough defenders to slow the assault.

Radetic turned his attention to El Murid's New Castle immediately. The capture of the old was barely complete when word came that an enemy column was in the pass. Yousif roared off to spring the ambush Radetic had suggested.

The tardiness and weakness of the relief column underscored Nassef's contempt for el Aswad. He did not come himself. He sent el Nadim and two thousand green recruits from the coast. Yousif carved them up.