The Lotus Eaters

And then Hamilcar was through the enemy ambush and wheeling his pony around. At a certain point in the wheel he yanked the reins, just hard enough to stop the beast completely. He looked for his previous target and found him, cowering against the boulder. Snapping the rifle to a shoulder firing position, Hamilcar took aim and shot the bandit down without a second thought. He felt nothing except satisfaction.

That's one less rifle aimed at my people.

He scanned around quickly. Another of the ambushers, this one with a rocket grenade launcher, stood up from his cover. Trusting his equine to hold still, Hamilcar, both hands on the rifle, fired again to engage the RGL gunner. He didn't miss . . . rather, of the seven or eight bullets he sent toward his target, at least one didn't miss. The target spun to the ground, screaming and spraying blood from a ruptured gut.

Further down the slope he could see the guards coming on in two groups. First, and closest, just behind him in fact, were those who'd been close enough to hear his command and follow in a group. Further away, still spread in a long, wide and shallow wedge, were those who had heard Alena order them to his support and defense.

Hamilcar didn't spare either a second thought. Quite ignoring the chance that both of those groups were firing, more or less wildly, and so could hit him by mistake, the boy spurred his pony forward once again, this time paralleling the ambush line.

He trusted his pony enough by now to release the reins, counting on his legs alone to control it. With both arms free, he twisted in his saddle to bring his rifle to bear. Still on high rate automatic, he had, at most, another eight or nine bursts before he would have to change magazines.

The pony, a little winded now, moved less quickly than it had when galloping up the slope. This actually provided a somewhat more stable firing platform for the rider, enough so that Hamilcar hit his next target, and the one after, on the first burst he donated to each.

And then his guards were among the ambushers, shooting, hacking and stabbing. Some of the latter began to run, to no avail.

'Kill 'em all!' Hamilcar shouted over the din.

* * *

The roughly half of the guard maniple that remained pulled perimeter guard around the women, the children, and the dead and wounded. A cold wind whistled among the boulders, blowing the smoke from the fires generally northward. Other pyres arose in the distance, anywhere from two miles to half a dozen away.

Those were from Hamilcar and the other half of the guard company.

'He doesn't have a radio with him,' Alena fretted. 'What if he gets in trouble?'

Cano laughed and shook his head. 'Fine witch you are, wife,' the tribune said. 'You know as well as I do that the only ones in trouble are the people who attacked us.'

'But it's been three days!'

'You in a hurry to get somewhere?' Cano asked.

'No . . . but three days!'

The tribune's hand swept the skyline. 'Relax, see that smoke, a new pyre every few hours? The boy's communicating. To us and everyone else who might attack us.'

'But three days?'

* * *

It wasn't until the fifth day that Hamilcar returned, with the eighty-seven survivors of his guard and their dead slung across horseback. They didn't return alone.

'What are we supposed to do with over a thousand prisoners?' Alena asked, making an estimate of the numbers the Avatar of God was bringing in. 'Our little valleys can't use the extra slave labor; they're just not that fertile.'

Cano put his binoculars to his eyes and looked more closely than his wife could have. 'Don't worry,' he said, 'they won't eat much. And it's closer to fifteen hundred. All women and children.'

'You mean he killed all the men?'

'Anybody who could sprout a beard would be my guess. I don't see a man among them who isn't one of ours.'

Alena decided to take it philosophically. 'He took them; he must support them. And women are flexible, while children can be brought up properly. It will be well.'

Cano shook his head. 'Of course, it will be well,' he said, sardonically. 'He's your avatar; he can do no wrong in your eyes.'

Alena caught her husband's doubting tone. 'Heathen barbarian,' she sniffed. 'Iskandr is the Avatar of God.'

And he has already shown four of the seven signs by which his people would know him.

* * *

There was a low fire burning in the hollow in which they sat, wrapped in their blankets. The moon, Bellona, was high in the sky, while Hecate was a mere hint of light, off to the east. Hamilcar was, for the nonce, a little boy again. 'I didn't know what else to do with them,' he said, apologetically. 'We'd killed the men. Should I have left them to starve, or as the prey for any other bandits in the area?'

Cano put a hand on the boy's shoulder. 'No, no, Ham. You did the right thing. Or as right a thing as circumstances allowed.

'On the other hand, have you considered what you're going to do with them? They're all yours now.'