Conqueror

Behind them the gate-tower he'd stormed was fully involved, a pillar of flame within the round stone chimney of the building. With luck it wouldn't go beyond that. .

The 5th Descott still stood in ranks before him, immobile as stone. Certain things had to be done by the forms. He nodded, and spoke again:

'Colonel Staenbridge.'

'Sir.'

'I have need of trustworthy men to guard key locations and apprehend certain persons tonight.'

Thus missing the sack, one of the rare pleasures of a common soldiers' hard, meagre and usually boring life. Most of the troopers would think of it as a far worse punishment than being the lead element through the gate- which Kaltin Gruder had assigned the 5th on the unanimous insistence of officers and men.

'Are the 5th Descott Guards ready to undertake this duty?'

'Mi heneral, the 5th is always ready to do its duty.' The sound that came from the ranks was not a cheer; more like a short crashing bark.

'Excellent, Colonel.' He paused. 'I see that the 5th's banner is absent. Please see that it is returned to its proper place immediately.'

'Mi heneral!'

* * *

Mitchi sat and held up the hand-mirror and preened, throwing a hand behind her tousled mass of red hair and arching her back. The necklace of gold and emeralds glittered in the lamplight between her full pink-tipped breasts. The tent was a warm cave in the night, light strong panels of tanned and dyed titanosauroid gut on a framework of skeelwood and bronze. All the furniture was similar, including the bed she and Kaltin Gruder shared, expensive and tough and very portable.

'You're vain as a cat,' Gruder said, running a hand up her back. He was lying with one arm beneath his head. She shivered slightly at the calloused, rock-hard touch. 'Aren't you ever going to take the damned thing off?' There were red pressure-marks beneath it.

'I may be vain, but you stink of dog and gunpowder, Kaltin,' she said tartly. 'Mmmmm.' He began kneading the base of her slender neck between thumb and forefinger.

'Well,' he said reasonably, 'I fought a murthering great assault action last night, did some hard looting, then worked my arse off all day keeping the city from burning down and getting the men back in hand. A busy man doesn't smell like a rose.'

'Not too busy to find this,' she said, turning and lying on his chest. She propped her chin on her elbows, and the jewels swung between them. 'Or that little dog you found for Jaine.'

'Or a good deal else,' he agreed, chuckling. 'Professional soldier's instincts. She'll need a riding dog on the march. . How's she settling?'

'Jaine? Very well; she's got neat hands with my hair and clothes, she's clean and biddable. Sweet little thing, too, everyone likes her.' She moved a leg over his hips and giggled. 'You're not settled at all. I'd have thought you'd be worn out on the town matrons.'

'I like my women smiling and running toward me, not screaming and running away,' he said, putting his hands around her narrow waist and lifting her astride him. Her breath caught as she sank back on her heels and began to move.

'Besides,' he went on, running his hands up and gripping her breasts, 'as the wog saying goes: Stolen goods are never sold at a loss. Hard loot looked like a better way to spend the time, with fifteen thousand men inside the walls and running loose. Lineups.'

Mitchi gave a complex shudder and threw back her head, stroking the hands that caressed her. 'What's that sound?' she asked.

'That?' Gruder said.

A roar like angry surf was coming from Lion City. Louder than the town meeting had been, since all the gates were open. 'That's a rarity, wench-some people getting what they deserve. Now shut up.'

* * *

Syndic Placeedo Anarenz looked as if he was going to survive the wound the throwing-axe had put in his back, although the left arm might never be as strong again. Right now it was strapped to his chest by the Army priest-doctor's bandages. He stood as straight as that allowed, meeting Raj's eyes. The general's face might have been a Base Area idol rough-carved out of old wood, his eyes rimmed and red with fatigue.

'Your tame prince certainly predicted our fate accurately, heneralissimo supremo,' Anarenz said bitterly.

Raj rubbed his chin; sword-callous rasped on blue-black stubble. 'I don't think many infants were tossed on bayonets,' he said mildly.

Or that many silver-haired elders got their brains beaten out, he thought. Not unless they were foolish enough to get between a soldier and something he fancied.

Lion City was orderly now, with infantry in guardia armbands on every corner seeing that their comrades went nowhere but to authorized taverns and knocking shops. Little remained from the previous night of rape, pillage and slaughter but the occasional gutted building, and not many of those. Guards had kept the major warehouses from damage, and the shipyards and other critical facilities; the rest of the town was missing most of its liquid wealth and small valuables, and several hundred young women smuggled out to the camp. They would probably be sold in a few days, at knock-down prices along with the households of the Colonial merchants and the magnates he'd put under proscription.

'Also,' he went on, 'I saw how your own guild reacted to my warning.'

Placeedo Anarenz started slightly, and stared for a moment. 'You,' he breathed. 'You were one of the guards?'

Raj nodded. 'This-' he indicated the podium and the plaza '-is something of a reunion. Even the syndics are here.'

They were standing under guard in front of the assembled citizens. It was a larger crowd than the town meeting, most of the adult population of Lion City. Much quieter as well, ringed with troops holding their bayoneted rifles as barricades; battered-looking men, many in remnants of militia uniform. Equally battered-looking women, in ripped and stained clothing hastily repaired or still gaping. Torches on poles lit their upturned faces, staring at him with dread.

Another building-block in the reputation of Raj Whitehall, he thought bitterly.

'I was a syndic,' Anarez said. 'Why aren't I down there with them?'

'Because you argued for opening the gates,' Raj pointed out. 'Also you're the next Mayor.'

Anarenz grunted in shock, staggering until the two burly sailmakers at his side steadied him. Pain-sweat glistened on his forehead from the jostling that gave his wound.

'Why me?' he said. 'I thought you'd have some bureaucrat ready. . or one of our local arse-lickers who'd buy his way into your favor the way he did with the Brigade. De Roors is good at that.'

Anarenz was a brave man. He still shivered slightly at Raj's smile.

'You actually care about the welfare of the citizens,' the general said. 'That makes you more predictable; men like de Roors don't stay bought. I'm going to need stability here. I'll be leaving plenty of the Administrative Service to oversee you, don't worry. Messer Historiomo to begin with, but he'll be taking over all occupied territory, and I've advised him to consult you.'

Raj turned to face the wounded man. 'There's a saying, Goodman-Messer Alcalle- Anarenz, back in the east. That the Governor's Chair rests on four pillars of support: a standing army of soldiers, a sitting army of bureaucrats, a kneeling army of priests, and a creeping army of informers. It's a settled way of doing things, and it functions. . but here I need the active support of the people I'm liberating from the Brigade.'

He nodded to the huddle of Syndics below the podium. 'After this, I don't think the magnates of other cities will try to sit things out.'

Aloud, he went on: 'Citizens of Lion City!'

A signal, and the soldiers ripped the rich clothing from the former oligarchs of the town, leaving a group of potbellied or scrawny older men edging away from the bright levelled menace of the bayonets, and a few others