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    Firehand

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      than the Confederate leaders anticipated. His allies would have to be

      apprised of their actual strength, and he pressed his party to discover the

      full extent of it.

      The Sapphirehold unit worked its way down the length of the Funnel

      almost to the mouth of the Corridor itself before Murdock at last learned

      all he could of what he wished to know and gave the order to turn for

      home.

      That was a command all of them rejoiced to hear. Although the

      countryside still provided some cover, it was becoming ever more like that

      of the Corridor, ever less able to shield them against the eyes of their

      enemies should any be present to trouble them.

      All of them hoped their luck would hold in that respect and no patrols

      would come upon them. With important information in their possession,

      it would not be well to enter into any conflict now.

      Ross kept his unit moving at a fast pace during the remainder of that

      day. He always hated missions calling himself or any of his soldiers into

      this place where they were denied ready access to the mountains and was

      never sorry to come out of it. Now, the responsibility of the intelligence he

      carried weighed on him along with the ever-present fear of being trapped

      here.

      The Sapphireholders rode steadily until nightfall. They broke their

      journey once full dark fell and resumed it again with dawn's first pale

      light.

      They had been riding for some four hours when the partisans spotted a

      flicker of movement well to the north.

      They took cover, vanishing as if they had never been, and waited.

      Fifteen minutes passed before the stillness of the scene was disrupted

      again. This time, there was no doubt. Deermen. They were heading south,

      riding swiftly without taxing their mounts. The party was small, only six

      men, and nervous. For all their apparent haste, they were making good use

      of the cover provided by the broken terrain.

      The commander watched them for several minutes as they twisted and

      swerved in their course so as to keep themselves under the best protection

      available to them.

      They were veterans of this war then. Mercenaries fairly recently come

      into Condor Hall's service did not move this well. Chance alone had

      revealed them, and were they only a few miles farther north where they

      would have enjoyed better cover, they should have escaped detection

      entirely.

      Ross signaled to Allran and three others. "Check them out."

      That small party made a tempting target, maybe too tempting. Such

      had been set to trap him before, albeit never this far south. He would not

      care to sweep down on them only to find himself surprised by a second,

      larger force that had been traveling better concealed as a shadow to this

      first.

      The four scouts were gone some time before returning at last with the

      news that the invaders were indeed alone.

      The Terran pondered a moment. His first inclination was to let them

      go, but Zanthor frequently sent couriers in such small, highly mobile

      companies, and he could not chance that these carried no directive of

      interest to him or to his allies.

      "Allran, Gordon, take half our number and get behind them. Eveleeni

      and I'll go with the rest. We should be able to sweep around them if we

      move swiftly enough."

      The partisans flowed like the waters of a gentle tide through the broken

      countryside until they reached the place where their enemies rode.

      Ross counted the seconds until he was certain his people were all in

      place, then gave the command to advance.

      The sight of the Sapphireholders appearing seemingly out of the very

      ground with arms drawn and ready to slay was sufficient to cow their

      outnumbered foes, and the Condor Hall mercenaries surrendered without

      attempting to draw blade.

      The war captain ordered them to cast their weapons aside and then to

      dismount. They complied at once. The partisans left their saddles as well,

      and Murdock turned to question the Sergeant who appeared to be the

      leader of the captives.

      A curse, sharp and bitter!

      His head snapped about as Allran went for one of the prisoners, sword

      in hand and poised to strike.

      Ross threw himself forward, slamming into his Lieutenant and bearing

      him to the ground.

      There was no struggle. Ashe and one of the others separated the two

      men and disarmed Allran while their comrades closed in around the

      captives lest they think to take advantage of the confusion of the moment

      and break for their freedom.

      The Time Agent was on his feet again. His fury was open and unbridled

      as he faced the Dominionite officer so that even their companions

      trembled in their hearts to see it. "How dare you?" he whispered slowly,

      carefully articulating each word. "How dare you draw against a man who's

      surrendered to us?"

      "That one cut my sire down!"

      Murdock forced a rein on his anger. "Your father was a soldier by

      profession, the commander of Sapphirehold's garrison, and he met his

      death in open war."

      Allran's face flushed with rage. "You mercenaries like to imagine you

      can civilize war! You cannot, nor have you claim to any cloak of

      righteousness! We domain people may hire you once in the generation or

      in several generations when war-need shadows our normally peaceful

      lifeway, but you yourselves are vampires, ghouls, ever feeding on

      fresh-spurting blood and dead men's flesh…"

      Eveleen struck him hard across the mouth. "Shut up, you fool!"

      The man stiffened but then bowed his head. "Your pardon, Captain. I

      was grossly insubordinate and accept as merited whatever penalty you lay

      on me."

      "Your anger was better released in shooting off your mouth than in

      some manner deadly to our honor or our lives. Cool down and then resume

      your duties."

      Ross turned on his heel and walked back toward the Sergeant he had

      been about to interrogate.

      All the captives were staring at him in dazed awe. This man was a

      legend to them, and they felt in this moment that he was more than any

      tale or dread could make him. The speed of his response, the strength of

      his will, his defense of what he held to be justice might momentarily stun

      them, but all this was only to be expected n the face of what they knew

      about him. The control he had shown was something different. They had

      not met with its like before, though these were no recruits having had but

      little experience with either domain or mercenary officers. They feared

      him because of it, but they admired him also and held nothing back of

      their recent history when he put his questions, first to their leader, then to

      the remainder of them. They had no information that would render such

      openness a violation of their oaths or a danger to comrades still active in

      the war.

      Murdock came away from the interview disappointed. The Condor Hall

      men had no news of real interest to him, nor were they couriers, but only

      the survivors of a larger unit that had been attacked and overcome by

      partisans farther north.
    These six had escaped, and since they had already

      crossed more than half the distance to the front, they had decided that

      attempting to reach their lines was their wisest course. They had

      continued southward, hoping that caution and the small size of their party

      would shield them from further trouble. A careful search had confirmed

      that they carried no papers or other material useful to the Confederate

      leaders.

      He regretted the delay taking them had cost him. Six warriors, none of

      them bearing any great rank, made a poor prize. However, they could

      hardly be released at this point, and Gurnion's people would probably

      want to examine them more closely in case one or more of them should be

      carrying secret verbal orders, although that was extremely unlikely. He

      would not have entrusted any of these with such an errand and did not

      imagine Zanthor I Yoroc was a poorer judge of men than himself.

      Ross was growing uncomfortable about lingering so long and ordered

      his unit to mount. The prisoners were bound to their springdeer, arms

      fastened to their sides, and then blindfolded. Soon now, the wild foothills

      guarding the mountains would be open to them, and they would begin

      moving south along paths no one not part of Firehand's small army was

      permitted to see.

      They rode hard for some two hours, then halted.

      Murdock ordered all eight of his warriors to go with the prisoners,

      keeping only his three leaders beside him. He and those remaining with

      him would be at a serious disadvantage if they met with any more of their

      enemies, but they were near their highlands and were well able to keep

      themselves concealed until they did reach safety.

      The eight soldiers were in less than an excellent situation themselves.

      They had a goodly distance to go before reaching the Confederate camp,

      and it would be no delight traveling it in company with prisoners nearly

      equal in number with themselves.

      The Terran would not keep his party intact despite all his awareness of

      the difficulties separation would and could bring to both units. Luroc, too,

      must have report of what they had learned in the Funnel. Besides,

      Murdock never trusted in only one courier or one party to carry news of

      any importance to their allies. Once he reached his base, more riders

      would be sent to the Confederate Ton either to confirm the details of his

      message or to deliver it if these first emissaries had failed to reach him.

      22

      THE COMMANDER AND his three companions kept moving steadily

      all that day, trying to regain some of the time they had lost. They were

      silent for the most part, each busy with his own thoughts, and little was

      said even when they finally made camp for the night.

      Eveleen held the second watch, that following her husband's. She was in

      no good humor and was glad none of the others was present to see the

      frown marring her features.

      She was furious with Allran. Her fellow Lieutenant was a professional

      soldier and had honestly acknowledged his fault in addressing his superior

      as he had, but none of the anger against Murdock which had fired his

      outburst had faded. He reined it tightly now, but she knew him well

      enough after their months of service together to be aware of it, and she

      was certain Ross sensed it as well.

      Her expression darkened still further. This was not the first time she

      had observed discontent or anger on him, either. What was the matter

      with the man? Ross did not need this with everything else he had to bear

      besides.

      When she was finally relieved, the woman went to where Murdock was

      lying. Each of the partisans slept apart from his companions, visually

      separated from them so that some, at least, might escape if their camp

      were discovered and overrun. She was glad of that now, for it would give

      them the opportunity for private conversation if her chief were still awake.

      Eveleen found Ross lying on his back, his arms pillowing his head. He

      appeared to be staring into the branches forming the dark roof above him

      but sat up as soon as she approached.

      The Lieutenant gave the signal that all was well and seated herself

      beside him. "My watch is over," she chided gently. "You should've been

      asleep ages ago."

      "I wanted to do some thinking." He smiled. "You wouldn't have come to

      me if you didn't expect to find me awake."

      "I was afraid you would be," the weapons expert admitted.

      "You've got to be played out, too. What's your excuse for staying up?"

      Her head lowered and raised again. "The same as yours. I was thinking

      about what happened today, what Allran said to you."

      "He was mad, and he knew I was right."

      "Angry words can still wound. He used some pretty strong terms." Her

      eyes caught his. "Ross, no one, including Allran A Aldar, thinks of you like

      that."

      "Not these people, no. Not now," he said dully, "but all Dominion will

      soon. You said they shifted into pacifism pretty early. People in our

      supposed profession wouldn't stay popular in that atmosphere." His eyes

      fixed on his hands. "I was a misfit in our own time until the Project found

      me, and I was a misfit in Hawaika's past. Now it's happening again…"

      "Hardly," she informed him. "The conversion did not happen overnight.

      Besides, the locals didn't become idiots because they turned away from

      warfare on a yearly basis. They fought the Baldies, remember, and they

      did a proper job on them. Their history didn't condemn that stand, or try

      to drop it into the back of some file and forget it."

      A slow smile just touched his lips before fading again. "I suppose I am

      getting myself worked up over nothing."

      His expression darkened again. "I'd have to be stone blind not to see

      that Allran resents me, though. If he weren't such a professional, there

      would be serious friction between us even now."

      His companion nodded. "It's gotten worse recently. I can't understand

      what's the matter with him."

      "I imagine it's a problem mercenary commanders must occasionally

      encounter on long-term commissions," Ross said thoughtfully. "Most of

      these domain leaders are sound warriors and good officers, but their skills

      are usually confined to training and parading their troops, relieved,

      perhaps, by bandit control now and then in wilder areas or, in extremely

      rare instances, by a show of force against some troublesome neighbor.

      "When real danger develops, mercenary companies are almost

      inevitably hired, always with the stipulation that their own officers will

      have precedence in all war-related activities, save only with respect to the

      Ton himself."

      He sighed. "It's only natural, I suppose, that some of the local men

      should resent being thus superseded, particularly where rank and birth

      are interconnected. Such officers simply don't want to yield place to hired

      swords. I can't say that I blame them."

      Ross looked into the distance. "Allran's fathers have commanded

      Sapphirehold's garrison for five generations. How pleased can I expect

      him to be to see a mercenary raised over him? Luroc's naming me his son


      can't have helped, either. It's got to have raised the nasty suspicion that I

      might stay here and make the current situation permanent. That would be

      a disaster as far as he was concerned."

      The Terran man fell silent a moment, then recalled himself again. "I'll

      have to do what I can to make peace between us."

      "You're not the one at fault!"

      "All the same, it's my business to banish this tension before it grows

      still worse, which it's bound to do if I try to ignore it. We can't afford

      quarreling in our ranks. That would serve Zanthor so well that it might

      significantly delay his defeat."

      "What more can you do?" Eveleen asked him. "Another man would've

      decked Allran or worse for what he said to you today."

      "I wasn't far from it," her husband confessed.

      He shrugged. "All I can do is talk to him. I don't want the place he

      desires. I should be able to convince him that mercenaries don't stick

      around once their work's done and life goes back to normal again."

      "Will he believe that?"

      "He should if I don't hold off so long before speaking to him that his

      feelings grow permanently irrational. That would be an enormous

      disservice to an extremely fine officer, and I've delayed nearly too long

      already."

      Ross smiled at her. "That must wait until we're back in base. For now,

      Lieutenant, I suggest that we both get some sleep. As it is, we won't be

      happy when it's time to hit the saddle again."

      23

      THE FOLLOWING DAY dawned pleasantly enough, but the weather

      turned early in the morning, and soon a sharp, damp wind snapped at

      them.

      Rain joined with it just before noon, a nasty, steady drizzle that kept all

      four morosely hunched in their cloaks. They were tired in spirit and body

      after their long mission, they were cold, and even the fact that they were

      well into the mountains and should reach their base the next day did little

      to cheer them. None of them felt inclined for speech, although the need for

      caution was long since past.

      All knew camp would be a most unpleasant affair that night, and

      Murdock weighed continuing on until they reached home.

      In the end he decided to break their journey. There was still a goodly

      distance to go, and he disliked pressing a needless forced march on his

      companions. He tried never to overtax any of his soldiers without strong

     


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