09 The Heretic by David Drake & Tony Daniel

Author:David Drake & Tony Daniel [Drake, David & Daniel, Tony]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781451638813
Publisher: Baen
Published: 2013-08-11T16:00:00+00:00

Four

Two weeks into the Redlands, and Abel’s company, his four squads and three command staff, were spread out along the backside of a defile, a gravelly wash about twenty paces wide. Pickets on the hill, a squad’s worth spread along the ridge, gazed down at a clump of huts below—it was impossible to call such a small and squalid gathering a village—that belonged to a clan of perhaps fifty Redlanders.

Abel crawled up next to Kruso, one of the pickets, and looked over the ridge himself. “Are we sure they’re not Blaskoye?” he asked.

“Not,” Kruso answered. “Downem thar crawlet me and South-waste accent tha talk.”

“South-wasters, huh? What do they call themselves?”

“Remlaps,” Kruso said.

“But the Blaskoye have conquered lots of tribes to the south,” Abel said. “How do we know these aren’t some of them?”

“Hidden,” Kruso replied. “Not from sich as weh, neither.”

“Yes, it is a cozy little valley they’ve found there. Couldn’t see it for a hundred leagues in any direction, then you come upon it and there it is, complete with a seep and green plants.”

“Found tham never withoutem that huntsman followen weh here back.”

“No, probably not.”

But they had found the Remlaps, and as far as Abel could determine, the Remlaps did not know his Scouts were here.

You have maybe a day before they do, Raj said. Desert folks don’t miss much, because there’s not much to look at out here, so they know every bush and rock. A cut twig, some chuffed ground, and you’re spoiled for surprise.

“All right,” Abel said to Kruso. “I don’t want them to catch fright, at least not yet. Can you go down there and bring me the chief, or somebody who looks like the chief?”

Kruso smiled. “Aye, Lieutenant,” he said. “Thet can I.”

“Take five,” Abel said.

“And what will I do with the one I don’t need?” Kruso asked, all innocence.

“Okay, four including yourself,” Abel replied. “And if you’re not back in a half watch, I’ll bring the company over the hill.”

“No worry fer thet, sir,” Kruso said. He carefully backed away from the hill crest, then pulled himself off the ground and headed down to round up his raiding party.

Abel remained watching, trying to pick out Kruso and his men. There was the shake of a tarplant here, a small puff of dirt there, all following a roundabout path. If he had not known they were on their way, he would have put it all down to wind, so stealthily did the group move.

The return trip was a bit more obvious, since they were dragging something large and trussed up. Abel met them by the group of bedrolls and travel satchels that defined his headquarters. He’d ordered no cookfires, and his dont-born supply train was two valleys over in a blind defile.

The chief had not surrendered easily, and there was a bloody bruise on his temple where Kruso, or one of his men, had had to apply forceful persuasion. Abel ordered the leather tongs that bound his wrists and legs undone, and attempted to dredge up what little he knew of the South-waste dialect.

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