Raymond Feist - Rage of a Demon King

Finally a clerk indicated Erik could enter, and both William and Calis greeted him. ‘Sergeant Major,’ said William, indicating an empty chair. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘It’s about the Hadati, m’lord,’ said Erik, not taking the seat.

‘What about them?’ asked Calis.

‘They’re gone.’

‘I know,’ said Calis with a faint smile.

Erik said, ‘What I mean is, I had plans –’

Knight-Marshal William held up his hand. ‘Sergeant Major, whatever plans you had are certainly similar to our own. However, your particular talents aren’t needed in that area.’

Erik’s eyes narrowed. ‘In what area?’

‘Teaching hillmen how to fight in the hills,’ said Calis.

He motioned for Erik to sit, and Erik did as he was instructed.

William pointed to a map on the wall across the room. ‘We’ve got a thousand miles of hills and mountains running from just north of the Great Star Lake up to Yabon, Sergeant. We’re going to need men who can live up there without supplies from Krondor.’

Erik said, ‘I know, m’lord –’

William interrupted him again. ‘Those men already meet our needs.’

Erik was silent a moment, then said, ‘Very well, m’lord. But, for my curiosity’s sake, where are they?’

‘On their way to a camp north of Tannerus. To meet with Captain Subai.’

‘Captain Subai?’ asked Erik. The man named was head of the Royal Krondorian Pathfinders, an elite scouting unit that traced its lineage back to the Kingdom’s first foray into the West. They had long since changed their mission of being trailbreakers and explorers; they now served as long-range military scouts and intelligence officers. ‘You’re turning them over to the Pathfinders?’

‘In a manner of speaking,’ said Calis. He sounded tired, and Erik studied his leader’s features. There were dark smudges under his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept much in recent days, and his face was a bit more pinched than usual. Those signs might go unnoticed, by someone who hadn’t spent every waking moment for months in Calis’s company, but to Erik they communicated much: Calis was worried and was working late into the night. Erik suppressed a rueful smile. He had started to think like the very nursemaid Calis had warned him not to become, and besides, he was just as guilty of overwork as his leader.

Calis spoke: ‘We need couriers and exploring officers.’

This was a term new to Erik. ‘Exploring officers?’ he asked.

‘It’s a madman’s job,’ offered Calis. ‘You pack your horse with a few rations and a canteen of water, then you ride like hell through the enemy’s pickets, move behind their lines, stay alive, meet with agents and spies, occasionally assassinate someone or burn down a stronghold, and otherwise wreak havoc wherever you can.’

‘You forgot the important part,’ offered William. ‘Staying alive. Getting back with what you know is more important than all the rest.’

‘Information,’ said Calis. ‘Without it, we’re blind.’

Erik realized with a sudden clarity that what he had lived through on two journeys to Novindus – the hardships, the loss of good men – was all to return with vital information. As with many things that Erik had learned in the military, he thought he understood something only to discover later he possessed merely a surface apprehension of the way things were, as a deeper appreciation of the topic seemed to unfold in his mind. Tactics and strategy were like that. William kept telling him he had a knack, yet often Erik felt stupid, as if he were missing the obvious.

Almost blushing, Erik said, ‘I understand.’

‘I’m sure you do,’ said Calis in a friendly tone.

William said, ‘We’re delighted to put the Hadati to such use, though they will likely be used as scouts and couriers; few of them are competent enough horsemen to serve as explorers.’

‘I can train them,’ said Erik, suddenly interested.

‘Perhaps. But we’ve got some Inonian mountain rangers coming in from the East. They are experienced riders.’

Erik had seen the occasional Inonian in Darkmoor. Swarthy, tough little men from the Inonia region along the coast of the Kingdom Sea nearest the southeastern borders with Kesh, they were reputed to be as fierce in their ability to defend their mountain highlands as the Hadati or dwarves. Erik knew them firsthand only for the excellent wines they traded in exchange for Darkmoor’s best; their wines were distinctive, using different varieties of grapes from those found in Darkmoor, often spiced or treated with resins or honey, but treasured for that very difference. The Inonians also produced the finest olive oil known, and that was the primary source of their prosperity.

‘From what I understand,’ offered Erik, ‘Inonian horsemen are able enough.’

‘In the mountains,’ said William, standing up as if to throw off the weight of fatigue. ‘Hit and run tactics are the rule. They also don’t marshal many men at a time, doing most of their damage with a dozen or fewer raiders.’ He waved to a bookshelf on the opposite side of his office. ‘We have at least one account of the Kingdom’s conquest of their region in there. They have some nasty tricks that may help us when the invaders get here.’ He stretched. ‘They ride small, tough ponies, and getting them to accept our faster horses may take some doing; you may have to give them some instruction, too.’

Calis grinned, and Erik knew without being asked that the eastern hill fighters were unlikely to take being trained gracefully. ‘But for the moment,’ the Captain said, ‘you’re to head back into the hills with another batch of soldiers.’

‘Again?’ Erik barely suppressed a groan.

‘Again,’ said Calis. ‘Greylock and Jadow have got sixty survivors of their boot camp they swear will take to your training like a baby to the teat. You and Alfred and another six of your men will take them out tomorrow morning.’

William said, ‘Teach them everything you can, Sergeant Major.’

‘And keep your eye out for potential corporals,’ Calis added. ‘We need more sergeants, too.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Erik rose, saluted, and turned to leave.

Calis said, ‘Erik?’

‘Yes?’ asked Erik as he paused at the door.

‘Why don’t you go out tonight and have some fun? You look like hell. Consider that an order.’

Erik shrugged, shook his head, and said, ‘You’re no daisy.’

Calis smiled. ‘I know. I’m taking a long hot bath; then I’m turning in early tonight.’

William said, ‘Go find a girl and a drink and relax.’

Erik left the Knight-Marshal’s office and moved to his own quarters. He had been working in the marshalling yard all day, and if he was going anywhere he wanted to bathe and change.

After his bath and in a fresh tunic, he felt hunger and considered heading to the mess. He weighed his choices and decided a meal in town might be just the thing.

Erik decided to walk to the Broken Shield, the inn operated by Lord James for the men, giving them a place to drink and meet the whores hand-selected by the Duke to ensure no one said anything to a potential agent of the enemy.

Evening was falling and the city was ablaze in torch and lantern light as Erik reached the inn. James had picked a location far enough from the palace to look a likely hangout for soldiers wishing to be away from the scrutiny of their officers, yet close enough that a message would reach anyone in minutes. Only Erik, the officers, and a few others realized that every person within the inn was an agent or employee of the Duke.

Kitty waved as Erik entered the room and he found himself smiling at her. He had been the one who had told the girl of Bobby de Loungville’s death and since then he had looked in on her from time to time. She had shown no reaction to the news, excusing herself for a few minutes, and when she had returned, only slightly red eyes had betrayed her feelings. Erik suspected the former thief had been in love with the man who had held the position of Sergeant Major before him. Bobby had been a difficult, even cruel, man at times, but he had treated the young girl with nothing but respect since she had come to the inn.