Chapter VI

Leonid Plekhanov, Joseph Chessman, Barry Watson, Khan Reif and several of the Tulan army staff stood on a small knoll overlooking a valley of several square miles. A valley dominated on all sides but the sea by mountain ranges.

Reif and the three Earthlings were bent over a military map depicting the area. Barry Watson traced with his finger.

“There are only two major passes into this valley. We have this one, they dominate that.”

Plekhanov was scowling, out of his element and knowing it. “How many men has Mynor been able to get together?”

Watson avoided looking into the older man’s face. “Approximately half a million according to Hawkins’ estimate. He flew over them this morning.”

“Half a million!”

“Including the nomads, of course,” Joe Chessman said. “The nomads fight more like a mob than an army.”

Plekhanov was shaking his massive head. “Most of them will melt away if we continue to avoid battle. They can’t feed that many men on the countryside. The nomads in particular will return home if they don’t get a fight soon.”

Watson hid his impatience. “That’s the point, sir. If we don’t break their power now, in a decisive defeat, we’ll have them to fight again, later. And already they’ve got iron swords, the crossbow and even a few muskets. Given time and they’ll all be so armed. Then the fat’ll be in the fire.”

“He’s right,” Joe Chessman said sourly.

Reif nodded his head. “We must finish them now, if we can. The task will be twice as great next year.”

Plekhanov grumbled in irritation. “Half a million of them and something like forty thousand of our Tulans.”

Reif corrected him. “Some thirty thousand Tulans, all infantrymen.” He added, “And eight thousand allied cavalry only some of whom can be trusted.” Reif’s ten-year-old son came up next to him and peered down at the map.

“What’s that child doing here?” Plekhanov snapped.

Reif looked into the other’s face. “This is Taller Second, my son. You from First Earth have never bothered to study our customs. One of them is that a Khan’s son participates in all battles his father does. It is his training.”

Watson was pointing out features on the map again. “It will take three days for their full army to get in here.” He added with emphasis, “In retreat, it would take them the same time to get out.”

Plekhanov scowled heavily. “We can’t risk it. If we were defeated, we have no reserve army. We’d have lost everything.” He looked at Joe Chessman and Watson significantly. “We’d have to flee back to the Pedagogue.”

Reif’s face was expressionless.

Barry Watson looked at him. “We won’t desert you, Reif, forget about that aspect of it.”

Reif said, “I believe you, Barry Watson. You are a ... soldier.”

Dick Hawkins’ small biplane zoomed in, landed expertly at the knoll’s foot. The occupant vaulted out and approached them at a half run.

Hawkins called as soon as he was within shouting distance. “They’re moving in. Their advance cavalry units are already in the pass.”

When he was with them, Plekhanov rubbed his hand nervously over heavy lips. He rumbled, “The cavalry, eh? Listen, Hawkins, get back there and dust them. Use the gas.”

The pilot said slowly, “I have four bullet holes in my wings.”

“Bullet holes!” Joe Chessman snapped.

Hawkins turned to him. “By the looks of things, MacBride’s whole unit has gone over to the rebels. Complete with their double-barreled muskets. A full thousand of them.”

Watson looked frigidly at Leonid Plekhanov. “You insisted on issuing guns to men we weren’t sure of.”

Plekhanov grumbled, “Confound it, don’t use that tone of voice with me.

We have to arm our men, don’t we?”

Watson said, “Yes, but our still comparatively few advanced weapons shouldn’t go into the hands of anybody but trusted citizens of the State, certainly not to a bunch of mercenaries. The only ones we can really trust even among the Tulans, are those that were kids when we first took over. The one’s we’ve had time to indoctrinate.”

“The mistake’s made. It’s too late now,” Plekhanov said. “Hawkins go back and dust those cavalrymen as they come through the pass.”

Reif said, “It was a mistake, too, to allow them the secret of the crossbow.”

Plekhanov roared, “I didn’t allow them anything. Once the crossbow was introduced it was just a matter of time before its method of construction got to the enemy.”

“Then it shouldn’t have been introduced,” Reif said, his eyes unflinching from the Earthman’s.

Plekhanov ignored him. He said, “Hawkins, get going on that dusting.

Watson, pull what units we already have in this valley back through the pass we control. We’ll avoid battle until more of their army has fallen away.”

Hawkins said with deceptive mildness, “I just told you those cavalrymen have muskets. To fly low enough to use gas on them, I’d get within easy range. Point one, this is the only aircraft we’ve built. Point two, MacBride is probably dead, killed when those cavalrymen mutinied. Point three, I came on this expedition to help modernize the Texcocans, not to die in battle.”

Plekhanov snarled at him. “Coward, eh?” He turned churlishly to Watson and Reif. “Start pulling back our units.”

Barry Watson looked at Chessman. “Joe?”

Joe Chessman shook his head slowly. He said to Reif, “Khan, start bringing your infantry through the pass. Barry, we’ll follow your plan of battle. We’ll anchor one flank on the sea and concentrate what cavalry we can trust on the hills on the right. That’s the bad spot, that right flank has to hold.”

Plekhanov’s thick lips trembled. He said in fury, “Is this insubordination?”

Reif turned on his heel and followed by young Taller and his staff hurried down the knoll to where their horses were tethered.

Chessman said to Hawkins, “If you’ve got the fuel, Dick, maybe it’d be a good idea to keep them under observation. Fly high enough, of course, to avoid gunfire.”

Hawkins darted a look at Plekhanov, turned and hurried back to his plane.