*A Ska soldier feared one thing only, the disesteem of his fellows. He gained civil advancement primarily through his military exploits, and fought each battle with total ferocity, which disheartened his adversaries even before the battle was joined. Withal, the Ska among themselves were a gentle and law-abiding people, who lived to the tenets of a unique and complicated culture, with a written history ten thousand years old, and traditions far older. Originally a small tribe which followed the retreating glaciers north, they became the true indigenes of Scandinavia, only to be at last thrust out by the Ur-Goths (later the Scandinavians and Vikings, who adopted many Ska traits and skills, including the Ska long-boat). Ska traditions recalled battles with ‘cannibal ogres'—evidently Neanderthal tribesmen—who, so they were assured, interbred with all other tribes of true men, so that only Ska were of pure human descent, and all others hybrids, soiled by the infusion of Neanderthal blood. For further background to the fascinating Ska psychology and history, see the glossary in LYONESSE I: Suldrun's Garden.
Aillas, sitting alone in the cottage which served as his headquarters at Doun Darric, looked out at rain sweeping down across the moor: a dreary view, but no more dismal than his present predicament. If he committed troops, ships and supplies from Troicinet, in quantity sufficient to overwhelm the Ska, he not only risked disaffection at home but he also became exposed to a sudden onslaught by King Casmir of Lyonesse (who in any event would rejoice to discover Aillas trapped in a desperate war with the Ska).
At this moment, the attention of every baron, knight and lordling of South Ulfland was fixed upon him. If he failed to strike back, he lost his credibility as an effective king and became another Oriante, helpless when confronted by Ska force.
Aillas, standing by the window and looking out over the rainswept moor, finally reached a decision—which in fact was not so much a plan of action as a list of responses he must not make: no assault upon Suarach, no reinforcements from Troicinet, except for warships to harass Ska shipping, and no turning his back on the situation as if nothing had happened. So then: what remained? Only the classical weapons of the underdog: craft and cunning.
What of North Ulfland? The Ska roamed at will, using the region as a wild hinterland which eventually they would occupy. Now they exploited its resources of timber and ore, and impressed the scattered inhabitants into their labor gangs as they found convenient. Across that coastal strip known as "The Foreshore' the Ulfs had been totally expelled. In their stead the Ska had come in numbers to build their curious many-gabled villages and to cultivate not only the fertile acreages but also those ranges which the Ulfs had relegated to grazing land. Elsewhere a few peasants clustered in squalid villages, hiding at the approach of the Ska press-gangs, even though at Xounges, King Gax still maintained his nominal rule.
Darkness settled over the sodden moor. Aillas was served a supper of bread and lentils, then sat alone by the fire for another two hours before taking to his couch, and eventually the soft sound of rain on the thatch lulled him to sleep.
In the morning by some miracle the sun shone bright from a keen blue sky, and the moors, glistening with sun-struck rain-drops, seemed not so bad a place. Aillas took his breakfast, then despatched a message to Domreis, commanding that six warships instantly make ready and set sail for Ys, and thereafter scour the Narrow Sea for Ska shipping.
Aillas next met with his military command. He spoke for a period, defining problems and explaining how he hoped to deal with them.
The reaction of his staff surprised and gratified him; indeed, Aillas' concepts coincided generally with their own predispositions. There were even voices raised in full defiance of the Ska: "We have truckled to these black-hearted devils long enough! Now at last we will show them the stuff that Ulf warriors are made of!"
"They have beat us before, true! And why? Because they are skillfully trained, which gives each man the force of three! Now we too are trained!"
"I say, march now! Full and hard into North Ulfland, then let us seek out their armies! We are not the bleating sheep they take us for!"
Aillas, half-laughing, cried out: "Ah, Sir Redyard! If only the whole army knew your determination! Our problems would be gone! But for the present we must fight with intelligence, rather than emotion. The Ska's single vulnerability is lack of numbers; they cannot afford large losses, no matter how many they take with them. But I value each of our men no less, and I do not care to trade them lives, especially our two for their one, even if it gains us victory. We must strike like bandits, take our toll, then retreat before suffering harm of our own. The war will be won gradually, but surely. On the other hand, if we attempt to battle the Ska face to face, we play their preferred game, and we shall take many losses and still not win."
"That is a tactful way of putting the facts," Sir Gahaun noted. "Also, since a good half of your soldiers began as bandits, we can take many a short-cut in their training."
"Training, always more training," grumbled Sir Redyard. "When do we fight?"
"Be patient, sir. You shall fight soon enough, I assure you." A week later a message came to Aillas from Castle Clarrie:
Here is information to interest you. One of my herdsmen discovered three of my stolen cattle, high in the foothills, close under Mount Noc. We rode out by stealth and managed, to capture one of the thieves, by reason of an arrow in his side. Before he died he told us more of Torquat, who now commands a score of cutthroats from AJUJ, an ancient keep in a place coded Devil-shriek Gorge, which is invulnerable to attack. He spends gold for good weapons, and for good food and drink, and it seems that this gold comes, as you averred, from. King Casmir of Lyonesse, with whom Torqual maintains communication.
III
KING CASMIR IT SO HAPPENED, was not altogether pleased with Torqual's efforts. Once again Torqual sent a messenger demanding gold, and on this occasion King Casmir had asked for an accounting of funds already spent and results already achieved. "I am not convinced that my moneys are being spent efficiently," said King Casmir. "In sheer point of fact, my informants tell me that Torqual's style of living approaches luxury, and that he and his company of cutthroats dine on the best the land has to offer. Is my gold spent thus, on sweetmeats and raisin-cakes?"
"And why not?" demanded the messenger. "Our bolt-hole is Ang, offers little more comfort than a pile of stones. Are we to starve while doing your work? When rain blows through the windows and the fire gutters for lack of dry fuel, Torqual can at least offer his band the solace of good food and wine!"
Casmir grudgingly paid out another twenty crowns, with instruction to Torqual that he learn to live off the country. "I suggest that he plant vacant lands to oats and barley, and that he keep cattle and sheep, and run fowl, as do the other denizens of the region, and so mitigate this remorseless erosion of my treasury."
"Sir, with the fullest respect for your wisdom, we can grow neither oats nor barley on vertical surfaces of stone, nor will cattle thrive in these areas."
While unconvinced, King Casmir said no more.
Several months went by, while events of importance occurred in the Ulflands. Secret despatches from Doun Darric and elsewhere made no mention of Torqual, and King Casmir could only speculate as to Torqual's work.
The messenger at last returned, and again required gold: on this occasion in the amount of fifty crowns.