The Killing God by Stephen R. Donaldson

Author:Stephen R. Donaldson [Donaldson, Stephen R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2022-11-15T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

Under an overhang of rock, the el-Algreb had built a comfortable fire. Its smoke curled up and away past the lip of the rock. During the day, it would have brought attention. At night in sharp cold, no one would notice it.

Half a dozen horse-warriors sat cross-legged around the flames with their leader and the sub-Commander. They gave Hellick a gourd of warmed water and strips of dried meat. Suti al-Suri and his companions looked relaxed, like men who were not in danger. Hellick suspected that they would look the same if they were in immediate danger.

Hunched close to the heat, he ate and drank until he stopped shivering. Then he began to ask his questions.

Where were the el-Algreb mounts? The chief warrior’s answer was simple enough. They had been hidden in a small vale half a league away. Where the Cleckin had made their camp, they were effectively entrenched. Fighting them from horseback risked too many animals. Suti al-Suri’s people had other ideas.

After that, however, Hellick had more difficulty making sense of the chief warrior’s replies. Nevertheless the Amikan persisted. He repeated his questions, rephrased them, insisted on longer answers. After an hour that tested Suti al-Suri’s patience, Hellick grasped what the el-Algreb had in mind.

They intended to cut the raiders to pieces with small snips. The idea of bait was crucial. As often as possible, in different ways and from several directions, they would lure their foes into striking back. Any Cleckin who responded would be ambushed. But baiting the raiders was only a ploy. Suti al-Suri’s real purpose was to distract his foes from a greater danger.

His people intended to steal the raiders’ horses.

“Not lose,” he declared. “Cleckin not take bait, keep horses, not move. Or take bait, el-Algreb take horses, not move. Both way, Cleckin beaten. Go home.”

That Hellick understood. The Cleckin wagons were drawn by horses, a use that Suti al-Suri called bad. As a result, the raiders had many more beasts than men. But the el-Algreb had snatched a chunk of the herd during the night. If the Cleckin lost too many animals, they would not be able to take their supplies with them. Their attack would fail. And if they stayed where they were to protect their mounts, the result would be the same.

The sub-Commander whistled through his teeth. The horse-warriors’ tactics might succeed. They might actually win. He would not have believed it.

Nevertheless he remained skeptical until he climbed back to the height of his hilltop at daybreak. When the sun began to light the valleys below him, he could see the Cleckin camp.

They had chosen an attractive place to spend the night. It was a large basin, almost as level as a plain, and wide enough to hold the entire enemy force. On three sides, it was sheltered by shallow hillsides that good horses could ascend at a gallop. To the west lay a sharper bluff marked by bare rock and gorse. There an overgrown rift spilled fresh water into smaller streams wandering through the lowland.

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