Loklann hit flagstones, rolled over, and bounced to his feet. Beside him a carved horseman presided over fountain waters. For just an instant he admired the stone, almost alive; they had nothing like that in Canyon, Zona, Corado, any of the mountain kingdoms. And the temple facing this plaza was white skywardness.
The square had been busy, farmers and handicrafters setting up their booths for a market day. Most of them scattered in noisy panic. But one big man roared, snatched up a stone hammer, and dashed in his rags to meet Loklann. He was covering the flight of a young woman, probably his wife, who held a baby in her arms. Through the shapeless sack dress Loklann saw that her figure wasnвt bad. She would fetch a price when the Mong slave dealer next visited Canyon. So could her husband, but there wasnвt time now, still encumbered with a chuteчLoklann whipped out his pistol and fired. The man fell to one knee, gaped at the blood seeping between fingers clutched to his belly, and collapsed. Loklann flung off his harness. His boots thudded after the woman. She shrieked when fingers closed on her arm and tried to wriggle free, but the brat hampered her. Loklann shoved her toward the temple. Robra was already on its steps.
гPost a guard!д yelled the skipper. гWe may as well keep all the prisoners in here, till weвre ready to plunder it.д
An old man in priestвs robes tottered to the door. He held up one of the cross-shaped Meycan josses, as if to bar the way. Robra brained him with an ax blow, kicked the body off the stairs, and urged the woman inside.
It sleeted armed men. Loklann winded his oxhorn bugle, rallying them. A counterattack could be expected any minute. . .
Yes, now.
A troop of Meycan cavalry clanged into view. They were young, proud-looking men in baggy pants, leather breastplate and plumed helmet, blowing cloak, fire-hardened wooden lances but steel sabres. Very much like the yellow nomads of Tekkas, whom they
had fought for centuries. But so had the Sky People. Loklann pounded to the head of his line, where his standard bearer had raised the Lightning Flag. Half the Buffaloвs crew fitted together sections of pike tipped with edged ceramic, grounded the butts, and waited. The charge crested upon them. Their pikes slanted down. Some horses spitted themselves, others reared back screaming. The pikemen jabbed at their riders. The second paratroop line stepped in, ax and sword and hamstringing knife. For a few minutes murder boiled. The Meycans broke. They did not flee, but they retreated in confusion. And then the Canyon bows began to snap.
Presently only dead and hurt cluttered the square. Loklann moved briskly among the latter. Those who werenвt too badly wounded were hustled into the temple. Might as well collect all possible slaves and cull them out later.
From afar he heard a dull boom. гCannon,д said Robra, joining him. гAt the army barracks.д
гWell, let the artillery have its fun, till our boys get in among Оem,д said Loklann sardonically. -
гSure, sure.д Robra looked nervous. гI wish theyвd let us hear from them, though. Just standing around here isnвt so good.д
гIt wonвt be long,д predicted Loklann.
Nor was it. A runner with a broken arm staggered to him. гStormcloud,д he gasped. гThe big building you sent us against
full of swordsmen . . . they repulsed us at the doorчд
гHuh! I thought it was just the kingвs house,д said Loklann. He laughed. гWell, maybe the king was giving a party. Come on, then, Iвll go see for myself. Robra, take over here.д His finger swept out thirty men to accompany him. They jogged down streets empty and silent except for their own bootfalls and weapon-jingle. The housefolk must be huddled terrified behind those blank walls. So much the easier to round them up later, when the fighting was done and the looting began.
A roar broke loose. Loklann led a dash around a last corner. Opposite him he saw the palace, an old building, red-tiled roof and mellow walls and many glass windows. The Stormcloud men were
fighting at the main door. Their dead and wounded from the last attack lay thick.
Loklann took in the situation at a glance. гIt wouldnвt occur to those lardheads to send a detachment through some side entrance, would it?д he groaned. гJonak, take fifteen of our boys and batter in a lesser door and hit the rear of that line. The rest of you help me keep it busy meanwhile.д
He raised his red-spattered ax. гA Canyon!д he yelled. гA Canyon!,в His followers bellowed behind him and they ran to battle.
The last charge had just reeled away bloody and breathless. Half a dozen Meycans stood in the wide doorway. They were all nobles:
grim men with goatees and waxed mustaches, in formal black, red cloaks wrapped as a shield on their left arms and long slim swords in their right hands. Behind them stood others, ready to take the place of the fallen.
гA Canyon!д shouted Loklann as he rushed.
гQuel Dzвo wela!д cried a tall grizzled Don. A gold chain of office hung around his neck. His blade snaked forth.
Loklann flung up his ax and parried. The Don was fast, riposting with a lunge that ended on the raiderвs breast. But hardened six-ply leather turned the point. Loklannвs men crowded on either side, reckless of thrusts, and hewed. He struck the enemy sword, it spun from the ownerвs grasp. гAh, no Don Miwel!д cried a young person beside the calde. The older man snarled and threw out his hands and somehow clamped them on Loklannвs ax. He yanked it away with a trollвs strength. Loklann stared into eyes that said death. Don Miwel raised the ax. Loklann drew his pistol and fired point blank.
As Don Miwel toppled, Loklann caught him, pulled off the gold chain, and threw it around his own neck. Straightening, he met a savage thrust. It glanced off his helmet. He got his ax back, planted his feet firmly, and smote.
The defending line buckled.
Clamor lifted behind Loklann. He turned and saw weapons gleam beyond his own menвs shoulders. With a curse he realizedч there had been more people in the palace than these holding the
main door. The rest had sallied out the rear and were now on his back!
A point pierced his thigh. He felt no more than sting, but rage flapped black before his eyes. гBe reborn as the swine you are!д he roared. Half unaware, he thundered loose. Somehow he cleared a space for himself, lurched aside and oversaw the battle.
The newcomers were mostly palace guards, judging from their gaily striped uniforms, pikes and machetes. But there were allies, a dozen men such as Loklann had never seen or heard of. They had the brown skin and black hair of Injuns, but their faces were more like a white manвs; intricate blue designs covered their bodies, which were clad only in wrap-arounds and flower wreaths. They wielded knives and clubs with wicked skill.
Loklann tore his trouser leg open to look at his wound. It wasnвt much. More serious was the beating his men were taking. He saw Mork sunna Brenn rush with uplifted sword at one of the dark strangers, a big man who had added a rich-looking blouse to his skirt. Mork had killed four men at home for certain, in lawful fights, and no one knew how many abroad. The dark man waited, a knife between his teeth, hands hanging loose. As the sword came down, the dark man simply wasnвt there. Grinning around his knife, he chopped at the sword wrist with the edge of a hand. Loklann distinctly heard bones crack. Mork yelled. The foreigner hit him in the Adamвs apple. Mork went to his knees, spat blood, caved in, and was still. Another Sky Man charged, ax aloft. The strangerчsomehowчavoided the weapon, caught the moving body on his hip, and helped it along. The Sky Man hit the pavement with his head and did not move again.
Now Loklann saw that the newcomers were a ring around others who did not fight. Women. By Oktai and man-eating Ulagu, these bastards were leading out all the women in the palace! And the fight against them had broken up, surly raiders stood back holding their wounds.
Loklann ran forward. гA Canyon! A Canyon!д he shouted. гRuori Rangi Lohannaso,д said the big stranger politely. He rapped a string of orders. His party began to move away.
гHit them, you scum!д bawled Loklann. His men rallied and straggled after. Rearguard pikes prodded them back. Loklann led a rush to the front of the hollow square.
The big man saw him coming; gray eyes focused on the caldeвs chain and became full of winter. гSo you killed Don Miwel,д said Ruori in Spa–ol. Loklann understood him, having learned the tongue from prisoners and concubines during many raids further north. гYou lousy son of a skua.д
Loklannвs pistol came out. Ruoriвs hand blurred. Suddenly the knife stood in the Sky Manвs right biceps. He dropped his gun. гIвll want that back!д shouted Ruori. Then, to his followers:
гCome, to the ship.д
Loklann stared at blood rivering down his arm. He heard a clatter as the refugees broke through the weary Canyon line. Jonakвs party appeared in the main doorчwhich was now empty, its surviving defenders having left with Ruori.
A man approached Loklann, who still regarded his arm. гShall we go after Оem, skipper?д he said, almost timidly. гJonak can lead us after Оem.д
гNo,д said Loklann.
гBut they must be escorting a hundred women. A lot of young women too.д
Loklann shook himself, like a dog coming out of a deep cold stream. гNo. I want to find the medic and get this wound stitched. Then weвll have a lot else to do. We can settle with those outlanders later, if the chance comes. Man, weвve a city to sack!д
Iv
There were dead men scattered on the wharfs, some burned. They looked oddly small beneath the warehouses, like rag dolls tossed away by some weeping child. Cannon fumes lingered to bite nostrils.
Atel Hamid Seraio, the mate, who had been left aboard the Dolphin with the enlisted crew, led a band to meet Ruori. His
salute was in the Island manner, so casual that even at this moment some of the Meycans loolced shocked. гWe were about to go after you, captain,д he said.
