As a side benefit, he and a few of his Tigers now wore the coats and fur caps of actual rakutur.
He'd known since his time in Hithmearc that the rakutur were the offspring of human women impregnated by voitar. Also, from his reading at the Cloister, he'd learned that after the Voitusotar had crushed the continental ylver, there'd been a prolonged period of hunting down refugees, killing the men and boys, and making sex slaves of the women and girls.
It had been a period of considerable chaos. The Voitusotar were in transition from being migratory barbarians to "civilized" rulers and administrators. The sex camps had been haphazard and unmanaged, and the voitik warriors ill-disciplined when away from their commanders. Thus numerous ylvin women had escaped. Those who could, then fled in small boats to Ilroin. Sometimes on their own, but often with hithar who hoped for sanctuary from the Voitusotar themselves. Some had left pregnant, and later gave birth. And the ylvin attitude was that sound infants should be nurtured regardless of their origin.
Many or most-perhaps all-of the voitu-sired babies were red-haired and green-eyed, and rather like the voitar, had large flexible ears. Over generations of subsequent back-crossing with the ylvin gene pool, the "rakutik ears" disappeared by "genetic dilution," though contributing perhaps to the ylvin trait of pointed ears. But the voitik red hair and green eye traits persisted, manifesting infrequently but strongly. Sarulin, the founder and progenitor of the Sisterhood had had them, and according to tradition, so had her consort.
It seemed to Macurdy that Sarkia, at least, had seen the possibilities. The Tigers had probably been bred deliberately for rakutur traits-athletic redheads bred to athletic redheads, and the offspring graded according to "Tiger" traits. Those who met specifications would then have been segregated and trained. The breeding and genetic segregation records could probably be checked, if they'd survived Ferny Cove.
Varia had been interested in genetics and animal breeding when she'd been married to Will, back in Indiana. She might have drawn the same conclusions. If he ever got back to Duinarog, he told himself, he'd ask her.
At any rate, today the Tigers had proven as hard and strong and athletic as the rakutur, and seemingly better trained.
Rillissa, back in Hithmearc, had been a female rakutu, with Kurqosz her father and some human woman her mother. In an old ylvin manuscript, he'd read that the rakutur weren't connected with the voitik hive mind, but Rillissa had definitely been. Some of the rakutur they'd just fought might have been, too. If so, the voitik high command knew of this battle. So when his Tigers had finished looting the rakutur's equipment and rations, and tethering the captive horses to a lead rope, Macurdy ordered them to move out.
His companies camped that night in the shelter of a dense stand of arborvitae-a "cedar swamp." Sentries were posted, the horses hobbled, and tarps strung up as lean-tos. Innumerable small warming fires were lit in front of them. They had no hay for their horses, but they did have corn and nose bags. And though few if any of the horses were familiar with arborvitae, after a bit some began to browse it. By morning many would, and take no harm from it.
Macurdy bedded down on the snow with Vulkan, without stringing a tarp. While waiting for sleep, he thought about Cyncaidh, whom he'd checked with the morning before, via the great raven connection. Each of the ylf lord's strike forces had averaged more than two raids a week, with casualties that were moderate for all the trouble he'd caused. Macurdy recalled his earlier doubts that the ylver could fight such a nonstandard war! So much for that worry.
He'd check with him again in the morning, he decided, and with the East Ylvin guerrillas. The Ozians were already in business, and the Kormehri and Kullvordi had left to begin harassing supply trains nearer the Deep River.
He'd thought about attacking Kurqosz's headquarters, to see what would happen, and had brought it up with Cyncaidh the day before. The ylf hadn't liked the idea; Kurqosz would probably have sorcerous traps in place. The thought was sobering.
Meanwhile, with Kurqosz's army having difficulties, what sorceries might the voitu be cooking up to deal with supply train raids?
Macurdy was rather good at not worrying until he saw a handle for the problem. Rarely did unacknowledged tensions ambush him with an anxiety attack; ordinarily he trusted his intuitions rather cheerfully. So he didn't dwell now on the possibility of sorceries. It had been a long day in the saddle, walking in the snow occasionally to rest their horses. His thoughts soon bogged down in vague semi-dreams, and he slept.
He didn't waken for hours. When finally he did, it was to sit bolt upright, from nightmare. Slowly he got to his feet, walked off a few yards, and urinated against a red maple, the smell pungent in his nostrils. Then he returned to his place beside Vulkan's bristly bulk. Lying down again, he tried to call back the dream, and examine it. It seemed important-something about Kurqosz-but beyond that it refused to show itself.
To hell with it, he thought. If it's important, the seeds are there. They'll sprout.
The next time he awoke, the sky was paling. Getting to his feet, he oriented himself, then roused his deputy, Captain Skortov, who sent an aide to roust the companies from their sheepskin blankets, and order the company officers and senior noncoms to a conference with the Macurdy.
While Macurdy waited, he described his intentions to Blue Wing, and asked directions. "Backtrack into the hardwoods," the great raven said, "then keep the new sun off your left shoulder." He paused. "Hiding Vulkan, you should reach Road B quite soon. Then go west until"-he paused; he still had trouble judging human travel time-"until sometime past midday. You'll pass four crossroads on the way."
His beady eyes studied Macurdy. "Just the two of you, going to beard the voitik troll in his lair. Hmh! I'd argue if I could suggest an alternative.
"Take care, my friend. I do not want to lose you. I hope you don't plan to knock on his door and introduce yourself."
Macurdy grinned ruefully. "Vulkan will cloak us. It seems to me his cloak will do the job even against voitar. When we get close, we'll probably leave the road, study the place from the edge of the woods. Then we'll decide how to go about it."
By that time his Tiger officers were arriving. When they were all there, Macurdy addressed them. "Tigers," he said, "I'm going to leave you on your own. Skortov will be in command. We can kill hithar and voitar and rakutur till spring, but if I can kill their leader, it'll finish this a lot quicker.
"He's likely to have his headquarters protected by major sorceries, so Vulkan and I are going to give it a try alone. Just the two of us; without even a horse. It's the sort of thing they're not likely to expect. If we don't pull it off, it'll be up to you. If you can bleed the voitar dry, that could win it. And if you can't bleed him dry, make him wish he'd never crossed the Ocean Sea."
It occurred to Macurdy that some voitik adept might sense the spells in his armor and saber, so before leaving, he traded the saber for Skortov's, and his hauberk and steel cap with two Tigers whose sizes matched his own. Then he shook their hands, climbed aboard Vulkan bareback, and left.
"What do you think?" he said to Vulkan as they left the bivouac behind. "Am I crazy?"
Vulkan snorted. ‹Not at all. I've been wondering when you'd make this decision. I'd almost decided to nudge you again.›
PART SEVEN
Climax And Aftermath
The greatest wizards and sorcerers of antiquity lived and studied under Sorthaelius Halfylvin at Beech Mountain. There a great library of magicks and sorceries was gathered, with extensive notes and commentaries by the masters.