MacKinnie noticed Longway’s start at Hal’s slip, but said nothing. “What of the cavalry?” he asked Brett. “Can they fight in formation? Have they had enough of that cockiness beat out of them to make a disciplined force, or are they going to go charging out into the enemy and scatter?”
“Vanjynk and I have talked to them, Trader,” Brett replied. “But their honor is all they have left. Still, these are men who have been beaten before, and after all, it is only barbarians they fight. … But it will be difficult to call them back from victory.”
“You’ll have to,” MacKinnie said. “It’s the only chance any of us have. Those men have to be taught to charge home, form ranks again, and get back to the shield walls. Any of them that try the grandstand act will be left out there dead. Try to drive that elementary fact through their heads. And add to it the fact that if they’re killed their city falls and the whole honor system they’re so proud of goes with it. They’re fighting to preserve their honor.”
“Yes, but by means which to them are dishonorable,” Vanjynk said. “They listen to me as one of them, and I have faithfully told them what you desire. I have even come to believe it. But it is strange to them.”
MacKinnie nodded. “Strange or not, they’ll have to learn. Now what about the commissary department?”
Mary Graham smiled proudly. “That’s in good shape,” she said. “We have enough wagons now.”
“I thought we were short of animals,” MacKinnie said.
“We are, but they were hitching them all wrong,” Graham said. “They were using leather straps. I had the carpenters make proper collars from wood, and now the horses don’t tire as much. We still don’t have enough, but the ones we have can carry more.”
“Good.”
“We have the wagons, but not much grain,” she continued. “If you can protect our baggage trains, we can supply your men for a few days. There won’t be a lot to eat, but something. After that, we’ll have to find forage outside. We might even be able to harvest some grain if our farmers are protected.”
“So we have a partially disciplined force of infantry, some cavalry who may be useful and may not, some Temple archers and guardsmen who are our best soldiers but don’t understand what’s needed, and one whole hell of a lot of barbarians. An interesting situation.” He thought for a few moments, staring down at a copy of Sumbavu’s map young Todd had laboriously made, then came to a decision.
“We need a demonstration. I’ll give each of you a week to select the best men you can, men you think won’t break and run and who will obey orders. I’ll need provisions for about two days for twice that number of people, and a group of your best-disciplined cooks and camp workers,” he added to Mary. “We’re going to make a show of force against the enemy. The primary purpose will be to convince our own troops that we can beat barbarians.” He stood, dismissing the meeting. “Hal, stay with me for a moment, please.”
When the others had left, Stark said, “Sorry about the slip, Colonel. It’s too much like a campaign, and I’m not used to being a spy.”
“We’ll survive. Have you picked the headquarters group?”
“Yes, sir. Using the troops we brought with us as a steadying force we’ve got a pretty loyal company. I think they’d fight the Temple people for us if they thought they could win. Anyway we can control them. You lead them to a victory, they’ll be ours for sure.”
“Excellent. We must have that headquarters group, or when this is over there won’t be any point to it all. All right, Sergeant, you can go.”
Hal stood, grinned for a moment, and saluted. “Old times, Colonel. Different Wolves, but old times.”
MacKinnie carefully armed himself before visiting Sumbavu. He struggled into chain mail, threw a bright crimson cloak over his shoulders, donned gold bracelets and necklace, and fastened his surplice with a jeweled pin before buckling on a sword made on Prince Samual’s World. The mail and sword were similar in design to Makassar products, but better than anything they had encountered on Makassar. Their possession imparted considerable status to MacKinnie’s group. Sumbavu was standing at the battlements above his cell when MacKinnie was brought to him.
“You betray true colors, Trader,” the priest said. “You are more the soldier than the Trader, are you not?”
“In the south, Father, Traders and soldiers are the same thing. At least live Traders are. There’s little peace there.”
“Or here. It was not always thus.” The warrior-priest looked out across the great plain beyond the city wall. “There are more of them today. The grain is ready for harvest, and they are formed to protect it from our fire parties. We could burn the crop, but only at the cost of the balance of our knights. I do not think any would return to us alive.”
“Yet, there may be a way, Father,” MacKinnie said. When the priest glanced quickly at him, he continued, “I wish to take a small party outside the walls. We will not go far.”
“You may take as many of your useless mouths as you please. You have made them march with their heads up, but they are not soldiers. They will never be soldiers.”
“I need more than my peasants,” MacKinnie said. “I will require fifty archers of the Temple and fifty mounted men.”
“A fourth part of the archers? And nearly as great a part of the knights? You are mad. I will not permit it.”
“Yet, Father, it is worth doing. We will show you how the barbarians can be defeated. And we will not go far from the walls. The archers and knights can seek shelter there if my men do not hold — and there can be no loss of honor if they retreat because others failed them.”
“Where will you be?”
“With the spearmen at the van.”
“You risk your life to prove these men? You believe, then. Strange.”
MacKinnie looked across the plains, to see another band of barbarians approach the walls. There seemed to be hundreds in the one group alone.
“You will take your men into that,” Sumbavu said. “You will not come out alive.”
“But if we do? It will put heart in the others. Remember, if we do nothing, the Temple is doomed.”
“Yet if you slaughter my archers and knights the doom will fall faster. …” The priest studied the camps below, watching knots of horsemen dart toward the walls, then turn away just outside the range of the archers at the walls. He fingered his emblem, a golden temple with an ebony-black cross surmounting it, and turned suddenly.
“Do as you will. You are mad, but there are those who believe the mad have inspiration from God. It is certain that I have none.” Sumbavu turned and stalked away, age showing in the set of his shoulders.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE WALKING WALL
MacKinnie used a week training the picked men for the sally. Finally Hal reported that they were as ready as they could be in the time they had, and assembled them in the marshaling square just inside the gates. His cloak streaming behind him, Nathan mounted the small dais near the gates to address the men.
“You will win today a victory such as has never been seen on this world,” he shouted. “There will be no end to the songs of this day. Your homes will be saved, and you will come to glory. Besides, what life is there huddled behind walls? What man hides from his enemies when he can go out and kill them? Today you are all men. You will never be slaves again.”
There was a feeble cheer, led by Hal’s picked guardsmen scattered through the ranks.
“It’ll have to do,” Nathan told his sergeant. “They won’t believe much of anything until they see they can hold the enemy. But will they fight long enough to find out?”