The Year of the Horsetails by R. F. Tapsell

Winter 4

Bardiya pushed his way through the courtyard throng, over to an empty corner where he had spotted a convenient log, obviously intended as a seat. Sheltered from the wind, he found even the pale, weak sunshine warming. After a while, Yarosh came out of Volko’s hall, looked around and came over to join him. He stopped in front of the Saka and looked down at him, clearly puzzled.

‘Forty thousand horsemen?’ he asked. ‘Can the Kagan raise that many? Can he control them?’

　

Bardiya nodded: ‘More than that if the case is desperate. But what difference does it make? Ten thousand more or less would still be unbeatable. How can I explain the effect of hundreds of squadrons of experienced cavalry in this open country of yours?’

Yarosh was thoughtful. He sat down beside Bardiya. ‘They don’t believe you,’ he said. ‘Remember that we Drevichi are a warlike people ourselves. It is difficult to believe that an army no larger than ours would defeat us so easily. But maybe you are right- we have never fought Tugars.’

Bardiya smiled: ‘Yarosh is easily deceived,’ he quoted and the Drevich frowned with annoyance.

‘They will argue all day without reaching any decision. My brother would take your advice if he had the power, but Volko and Gromir will not agree. Even if they could, Dragesh of Sevrosk is not here yet and he too would have to be consulted.’

The Saka sighed with exasperation. ‘How many of these Drevich leaders are there?’ he demanded.

‘Just those three- Volko, Gromir, Dragesh. There are one or two other men whose opinions might be asked for, but they could be ignored if necessary.’ Yarosh went on to denounce the disunity of the Princes in terms that helped to relieve Bardiya’s feelings. Nevertheless, he was deeply depressed by the situation revealed. There was no certainty of a Tugar attack this spring, but it was only too clear that no resolute action would be taken to forestall it.

At length Mirosh too emerged from Volko’s hall, his face set in anger. He gestured at Yarosh and turned away to seek his horse. Yarosh rose from the log. ‘Come,’ he said, ‘I think we are going home again.’

Not until they were clear of Mostek, riding northwards, did Mirosh say anything. Then he reined in beside Bardiya.

‘You are not popular with the Princes,’ he began, ‘but neither am I, now. I have sworn to answer for you- don’t disappear, will you. Now let me ask your opinion again- will the Tugars come, and what should we do about it?’ Bardiya had had time to clarify his thoughts by this time: ‘Probably they will come. I do not wish to offend you, Mirosh, but a land so prosperous and as divided as this will bring the Kagan like a bee to a honey-pot. If even a fraction of the information which I have discovered has reached him, he will come. Before I could make plans, I should need to know about the routes over the mountains. Are there any other passes which large bodies of cavalry could use?’

‘No,’ said Mirosh without hesitation. ‘There are several ways across for men on foot, but they are not easy for strangers to find- the tracks run through dense forest or over steep rocks or both.’

‘Good- then first I would send a strong garrison to Sered, as I told the Princes. Next I would collect a few scores of good horsemen and send them over the pass to patrol its approaches from the east. Finally, I should find a good spot in the pass itself and set about building one of your excellent stockades where a couple of thousand men could hold the way against all the Tugar army. The patrols would give warning, and Sered would be your last defence if the Kagan broke through.’

Mirosh laughed shortly: ‘All very sound, but it takes no account of the practical difficulties. You heard them arguing - how are all these men to be persuaded to spend months up in the pass or at Sered, especially at ploughing time? How are they to be fed? Volko will never open his granaries for that, nor will Gromir.’

　Bardiya found it difficult to understand such short-sightedness. ‘If the Kagan crosses the pass unhindered, those granaries will go up in smoke, unless they feed the Tugars,’ he predicted. ‘What is wealth for, if not to protect yourself in time of danger?’ To him this miserly clinging to resources better used was inexplicable- the pre-eminence of war as the fittest occupation for a man was so deeply rooted in his mind that he would have spent half of Volko’s riches gladly in defence of the other half, rather than risk the loss of all by indecision. But he could not convey the appalling danger, the speed and efficiency of the Kagan’s war machine.

They argued intermittently during their two-day ride to Krotos, where they arrived on the morning of the third day. Mirosh expressed the opinion that the princes would defer action until further news had been received, much to Bardiya’s disgust.

When the interest and excitement aroused by the sudden return of the lord of Krotos had died down, the Saka wandered off to brood over his new worries. His random steps took him past the small outhouse containing the forge, and he went in. It was still warm from some work which must have been done earlier- at this time of year there would be numerous repairs needed to equipment neglected during the long winter months. Here Marissa sought him out. She came up beside him as he gazed into the still smouldering fire, and put her hand lightly on his shoulder. He knew at once the identity of his visitor, even before he turned. He had sat down on a bench and now he took her hand firmly and pulled her round in front of him to sit on his knee. He was in a rash, disturbed mood.

She neither resisted nor responded. Instead a faint smile appeared on her face and she spoke as if nothing unusual had happened.

‘Yarosh says that you are out of favour with Prince Volko,’ she said. ‘Am I allowed to know about it?’

He told her what had happened. As a woman and a foreigner, she did not have the patriotic conviction as to the fighting qualities of the Drevichi which seemed obligatory among the men, and she accepted his view of the situation much more readily.

‘It will not be just a casual raid, a few villages plundered,’ he told her. ‘Every town and village will be systematically looted and destroyed, every fighting man killed, every woman and child either driven off for the slave markets of the south or slaughtered out of hand, all livestock rounded up. I have seen it happen so many times- this land will be empty and devastated by next winter.’ Almost unthinkingly, his arm had slid round her waist; by imperceptible stages her head leaned on to his shoulder. He felt her shiver at his vivid descriptions.

‘But couldn’t you persuade them- the Princes- to do anything before the Tugars came?’

He felt helpless: ‘I could not really convince even Mirosh. What can I do single-handed?’ He had now linked his hands round her comfortably.

‘Certain things you do quite well, I notice,’ she replied, pointedly. He smiled, aware that her remark was not intended to discourage him, and turned his attention to more compelling attractions than military affairs.

Eventually she pulled herself away from his embraces, brushed back her hair and straightened her loose smock. Somehow she managed to recede into tantalising aloofness again in spite of the strong physical desire aroused in both of them. Perhaps she realised that the contrast between her normal manner and the enthusiastic co-operation she had just displayed added to her attractiveness to Bardiya. It was far more provocative than the open affection and passive love-making of his wife had been.

‘If someone came …’ she said, leaving the sentence unfinished.

‘Then what happens?’ he asked irritably. ‘How am I supposed to understand Drevich courting customs?’

　She realised his predicament and laughed. ‘Those customs are very straightforward. But my position is rather special- even I am not sure how Mirosh regards it.’ She continued seriously, ‘I suppose that I really belong to him as a servant, although he has always treated me well. He would be entitled to give me to anyone he chose and he might be very angry if he found us here like this, or heard tales from someone else.’ With the matter still inconclusive, she departed, leaving Bardiya deep in thought. Now, however, he was concerned over a problem quite different from the one that had occupied him before she came.

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