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Count Lambert came up and said, "It's hard to believe that those men are the same ruffians I sent you a year ago."

"Yes, my lord, but it's true."

"That oath was touching," Prince Henryk said, "but what does this standing in neat lines have to do with defeating the Mongols."

"That's difficult to explain, my lord. It's all part of a program that makes these men the finest foot soldiers in the world. I've invited you here today to show you what these men can do. For now, let's mount up and find a good spot on the obstacle course."

I'd arranged for a dozen guides to take the bulk of the visitors around, but I wanted to escort the VIPs myself. It was not only necessary to build the finest army in the world, it was also necessary for the powers that be to know that it was as good as I said it was.

We stopped at the first major obstacle, a huge log suspended fifteen stories up between two big denuded pine trees. Four ropes went from the ground, up and over the log and then back down to the ground.

"They're not going to climb that thing, are they?" Count Lambert asked, proudly wearing his new gold armor.

"They'll climb it in full armor using their arms only, my lord. They'll go over the top and then back down the other side," I said.

"Have you done this yourself?" Prince Henryk asked.

"Of course, my lord. I've often led them through the course."

"I wonder if I could do that," Count Lambert said.

"I'm sure you could, my lord, if you had taken this training. But for today, I must ask you to observe only, and not participate."

"That verges on impertinence!" Count Lambert said.

"Perhaps, my lord, but we all know your abilities. This demonstration is to show you what the men can do."

Count Lambert started to make further objection, but Prince Henryk put his hand on the count's armored forearm.

"It shall be as you say, Baron Conrad," the prince said, and that ended the matter.

The troops came running in step up the trail, their armor clanging loudly. They were four files wide and ten ranks long, and singing the army song.

"That song sounds familiar," Prince Henryk said.

"The tune is an old Russian folk song called 'Meadowlands,' my lord. The words are by an English poet named Rudyard Kipling. I translated them and fit the two together."

The first rank went immediately to the four front ropes and went quickly up, their arms moving in unison and their legs hanging stiff below them. The troops behind did jumping jacks until the first four were halfway up, at which time the next four men started up as the others continued exercising.

"One of the rules of the course is that the men never stop moving. When they are waiting their turn, or waiting for the others to finish, they exercise in place," I said.

Abbot Ignacy made the sign of the cross as they scaled the dizzying height.

"That man on the left, near the top," Prince Henryk said. "That's Sir Vladimir, isn't it?"

"Yes, my lord. He and the three Banki brothers beside him have been largely responsible for the training."

"And that little one at the end who's jumping up and down, is that your accountant, Piotr Kulczynski?"

"Yes, my lord, only he isn't my accountant any longer. Once his training is over, I have another job for him."

"And what might that be?"

"I'm setting up a section of mapmakers, my lord, and Piotr will head it. By the time the Mongols invade, we'll have accurate maps of all of southern Poland."

"That will be of great use to my pilots!" Count Lambert said. "If I can ever get you to get to work on that engine you promised."

"I promised to work on an aircraft engine once your people built a two-man glider that could stay up for hours, my lord."

"Then you'd best be thinking about it, because we're close, Baron Conrad, damn close!"

"Very good, my lord. For now, we'd best go to the next obstacle." I'd gone along with helping out with Eagle Nest, Count Lambert's flying school, because it looked to be a good way to set up an engineering institute at Count Lambert's expense. I never for a minute believed that those kids could build functioning aircraft in under twenty years. They were starting to build some decent gliders, though.

We got to an almost vertical cliff face fully thirty stories high only slightly ahead of the troops, who came clanking up behind us, still running in step. The first four started climbing immediately while the others did pushups.

"They move up like ants after ajar of honey!" Count Lambert said.

"Very deadly ants, my lord."

"But how is such a thing possible?" Abbot Ignacy asked.

"Training, Father, plus the fact that they have climbed this particular cliff so often that they know where most of the handholds are."

Soon, all of the men were on the cliff face and the front rank was nearing the top. Off to the right, a long slack rope went from a pole on the top of the cliff to another four hundred yards away on the ground. The arrangement was such that it was necessary to jump from the cliff in order to catch the rope. The first man up, Sir Vladimir, I was pleased to note, ran immediately toward the rope and flung himself off the edge as the crowd gasped in horror. But he caught the rope and slid down to the ground to be followed by the others.

"Doesn't that bum their hands?" Prince Henryk asked.

"No, my lord. If you'll notice, they're not holding it with their hands, but have caught the rope with the cuffs of their gauntlets. The rope is waxed and things don't get too warm."

"But what if they should slip and fall?"

"They generally die, my lord."

And so it went, as the men swung on ropes, ran across long bridges that were as narrow as your arm, climbed log piles, walked tightropes and everything else nasty that I could think up.

"When they're in full armor, we usually bypass the swimming events, since it takes a few days to dry out their gambezons," I said. "But rest assured that each of these men can swim a half mile in full armor-and six miles naked."

Despite the fact that we were on horseback, the men beat us back to the mess hall. The VIPs were invited inside and the rest of the crowd was fed outside.

Each of the men was doing in a breakfast that started with six eggs, a loaf of bread, and a slab of ham as thick as your finger, and went on from there. My own meal was almost as big.

"You certainly feed them well," Abbot Ignacy said.

"True, Father, but we bum it off them quickly enough. You won't find much fat on any of these men."

Pike practice came next, and the VIPs were treated to being charged by forty pikemen. At the last possible instant, Sir Vladimir shouted "Halt!" and they stopped with the sharp points a finger's breadth from our chests. Seeing that I didn't move, neither Count Lambert nor Prince Henryk flinched, but most of the others had moved back quickly.

"My lords, I'm sure that you felt the emotional impact of that charge. I ask you to imagine what it would be like if six thousand men charged you in that manner."

"Emotional impact? I was more worried about the physical one!" Count Lambert said.

"And 1, too," Prince Henryk said. "But I see your point. That an enemy can be defeated without even touching him."

"That would be ideal, my lord. Once the enemy has broken, you usually lose very few men in the mop-up."

"The mop-up! You have a good turn for words, Baron Conrad," Count Lambert said.

Then the men were put to work on the dummies. These were full-weight straw figures of men on horseback, with a real lance held in place. They rolled down a long ramp and once they got to the level section they were going as fast as a horse can charge. In single practice, the object was to skewer the horse with a grounded pike without being run over or hit by the lance. When a single dummy was attacking a group of men, only the men in the center went for the horse. The others went after the rider.