Harry Turtledove V

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in battle there was precious little difference between the two.
Little by little, Sharbaraz's men forced their foes back toward the fortress.
Videssian horsemen and light-armed Makuraner cavalry, more nimble than either
side's lancers, tried to nip in behind Smerdis' horse and cut them off,
clearing the way for Sharbaraz's lancers to burst through and storm for
Mashiz.
A few archers up on the battered walls of the fortress shot at them. Hundreds
would have been up there but for the pounding the siege engines had given the
place. But many now were dead, many more hurt, and others fighting the fires
the pots of oil had started.
"Onward!" That voice, some yards ahead of him, made Abivard jerk his head up.
Sure enough, there was Sharbaraz, laying about him with his sword and spurring
his horse on toward the gap that led to Mashiz.
Abivard couldn't imagine how the rightful King of Kings had pushed so far
forward in the fighting, but Sharbaraz would have been a dangerous warrior no
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matter what his station. The only trouble was that, if he fell now, everyone
else's exertions would be for nothing.
"Onward!" Abivard cried, and pointed to his sovereign. Now he did not call out
Sharbaraz's name, for fear of drawing the enemy's notice to the rightful King
of Kings. He pointed to him, though, and waved his arm to urge on his own
followers. Not all of them understood his gestures, but enough did to give
Sharbaraz a respectable force of protectors in a few minutes.
But Sharbaraz did not want protectors he seemed to want to be the first man
into Mashiz. He plunged into the press once more. His ferocity made those of
Smerdis' men who were not in deadly earnest draw back from him. His own men
pushed forward to fill the gap and to guard him from the foes who remained
full of fight.
A tiny lull in the battle gave Abivard a moment to look around at more than
sword's length from him. He realized with surprise and sudden and growing
triumph that Smerdis' fortress was no longer in front of him and the rest of
the leaders of Sharbaraz's forces instead, it lay to their right. Sharbaraz
had lost this fight the summer before, but he was winning it now.
"Come on!" Abivard yelled, waving again. "One more push and we have them. Once
we get past the walls here, the way opens out again, and drop me into the Void
if Smerdis' lancers can hold us out of Mashiz then."
Smerdis' soldiers saw that as clearly as he did. They rallied, fighting
desperately. But Sharbaraz's men were desperate, too, knowing what another
defeat in front of the capital would mean. And their Videssian allies, even
without personal stake in the battle, fought as bravely as anyone. They plied
Smerdis' men with arrows and pressed the fight at close quarters with sabers
and spears. Sharbaraz had worried about betrayal, but the men from the east
stayed not only loyal but ferocious.
The counterattack from Smerdis' lancers faltered. Yard by yard, they began
giving ground once more. Then, all at once, the way the fortifications had
narrowed grew wide again. "To Mashiz!" shouted Sharbaraz, still at the van.
Not only the capital of Makuran loomed ahead. Closer and perhaps more tempting
were the tents that marked the encampment of Smerdis' men. "I'll castrate
anybody who thinks of loot before victory," Abivard said. "First we win, then
we plunder."
As far as he was concerned, the prospect of entering Mashiz was worth more
than any booty he could pull from the camp. Other, poorer men, though, were
liable to think of silver before victory.
Smerdis' army, the last army that could hold Sharbaraz out of his capital,
began to break up. Here and there knots of determined men still fought on,
although they had to know victory was hopeless. But others fled, some back
toward Mashiz, others over the badlands, hoping their foes would be too busy
to pursue them. And still others, as they had between the Tib and the Tutub,
threw away their weapons and gave up the fight.
Abivard shouted for some Videssians to take charge of the prisoners. "That's
well done," Sharbaraz said, recognizing his voice.
"Thank you, Majesty," he answered. "My thought was that they won't be as hot
for revenge as our men." He rode closer to the rightful King of Kings before
quietly adding, "And the fewer of them who go into Mashiz with our men, the
better."
"Aye, that's just right," Sharbaraz agreed. "They've been all we could ask for
as allies more than I looked for them to be, the God knows. But Mashiz is
ours; we can reclaim it on our own." Bitterness crossed his face for a moment.
"The Videssians have sacked Mashiz a couple of times, while we've never made
our way into Videssos the city. What I wouldn't give to be the King of Kings
who changed that."
"Oh, indeed," Abivard said, quietly still. "Not tomorrow, though."
"No." Sharbaraz nodded at that. "But I'm willing to bet Videssos will give us
the chance before too many years go by, however well we work with father and
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son of the Maniakes clan. As you say, first things first." He booted his horse
in the ribs, wanting to lead his army into Mashiz. The capital lay less than a
quarter of a farsang a quarter hour's ride to the west.
Abivard kicked his own mount up to a fast trot to keep pace with his
sovereign. "Will we have more fighting to do inside the city?" he asked.
"I hope not," Sharbaraz said. "With any sort of luck, his army will have gone
to pieces. But the palace is a formidable place. If he has men willing to
fight for him, he could hold out a long time there."
"The Videssians and their siege engines " Abivard began.
Sharbaraz shook his head. "No, by the God," he said harshly. "If they pound
the usurper's men or the works he threw up against me, well and good. But the
palace doesn't belong to Smerdis it's mine, just as Mashiz is ours. I don't
want it wrecked if I can find any way around that; I want to live in it after
I take Mashiz, as I did before Smerdis stole the throne."
"Very well, Majesty," Abivard said, humbled. To him, the palace was just
another military target. To Sharbaraz, it was home.
On they rode. The closer they got, the bigger Mashiz looked to Abivard. It
dwarfed Serrhes, which was the only city into which he had ever gone. The
towns of the land of the Thousand Cities might well have been as crowded, but
they weren't large, not with each one sitting atop a mound made from
generations of its own rubble. Mashiz sprawled over the foothills of the
Dilbat Mountains. At the eastern edge of the city was a marketplace big enough
all by itself to swallow Serrhes. Now it boiled like an anthill knocked down
by a small boy. All the merchants who had never imagined Sharbaraz's troopers
could enter the capital and there seemed to be quite a few of them now were
trying to hide their goods, and often themselves, too.
"Too late for that," Sharbaraz said, pointing ahead. "I wonder how big an
indemnity to set on them for doing business as usual under my thief of a
cousin." His laugh held a predatory note. "They're wondering the same thing,
too."
"We can worry about that later, though, surely, Majesty," Abivard said. "First
we need to take the palace and lay hold of Smerdis Pimp of Pimps."
"Aye," Sharbaraz said, predatory still.
He knew the way through Mashiz's maze of streets. Though the palace was an
imposing structure of gray stone, other, lesser buildings kept blocking it
from view, so Abivard might have taken hours to find his way to it down
streets that twisted back on themselves like snakes, as if in a deliberate [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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