The heavy tread of the invaders' boots as they entered the central
plaza of the walled city awakened nothing but echoes from the stone
walls that surrounded the plaza. Like the small villages they had
entered farther north, the city seemed devoid of life.
There is nothing quite so depressing and threatening as a deserted city.
The windows in the walls of the buildings seemed like blank, darkened
eyes that watched--and waited. Nothing moved, nothing made a sound,
except the troopers themselves.
The men kept close to the walls; there was no point in bunching up in
the middle of the square to be cut down by arrows from the windows of
the upper floors.
The commander ordered four squads of men to search the buildings and
smoke out anyone who was there, but they turned up nothing. The entire
city was empty. And there were no traps, no ambushes--nothing.
The commander, with Lieutenant commander Hernan and another officer,
climbed to the top of the central building of the town. In the distance,
several miles away, they could see the encampment of the monarch's
troops.
"The only thing we can do," the commander said, his face hard and
determined, "is to call their bluff. You two take about three dozen men
and go out there with the carriers and give them a show. Go right into
camp, as if you owned the place. Throw a scare into them, but don't hurt
anyone. Then, very politely, tell the Emperor, or whatever he calls
himself, that I would like him to come here for dinner and a little
talk."
The two officers looked at each other, then at the commander.
"Just like that?" asked Hernan.
"Just like that," said the commander.
* * * * *
The demonstration and exhibition went well--as far as it had gone. The
native warriors had evidently been quite impressed by the onslaught of
the terrifying monsters that had thundered across the plain toward them,
right into the great camp, and come to a dead halt directly in front of
the magnificent pavilion of the Greatest Noble himself.
The Greatest Noble put up a good face. He had obviously been expecting
the visitors, because he and his lesser nobles were lined up before the
pavilion, the Greatest Noble ensconced on a sort of portable throne. He
managed to look perfectly calm and somewhat bored by the whole affair,
and didn't seem to be particularly effected at all when Lieutenant
commander Hernan bowed low before him and requested his presence in the
city.
And the Greatest Noble's answer was simple and to the point, although it
was delivered by one of his courtiers.
"You may tell your commander," said the noble, "that His Effulgence must
attend to certain religious duties tonight, since he is also High
Priest of the Sun. However, His Effulgence will most graciously deign to
speak to your commander tomorrow. In the meantime, you are requested to
enjoy His Effulgence's gracious hospitality in the city, which has been
emptied for your convenience. It is yours, for the nonce."
Which left nothing for the two officers and their men to do but go
thundering back across the plain to the city.
* * * * *
The Greatest Noble did not bring his whole army with him, but the
pageant of barbaric splendor that came tootling and drumming its way
into the city the next evening was a magnificent sight. His Effulgence
himself was dressed in a scarlet robe and a scarlet, turbanlike head
covering with scarlet fringes all around it. About his throat was a
necklace of emerald-green gems, and his clothing was studded with more
of them. Gold gleamed everywhere. He was borne on an ornate, gilded
palanquin, carried high above the crowd on the shoulders of a dozen
stalwart nobles, only slightly less gorgeously-dressed than the Greatest
Noble. The nobility that followed was scarcely less showy in its finery.
When they came into the plaza, however, the members of the procession
came to a halt. The singing and music died away.
The plaza was absolutely empty.
No one had come out to greet the Emperor.
There were six thousand natives in the plaza, and not a sign of the
invaders.
The commander, hiding well back in the shadows in one of the rooms of
the central building, watched through the window and noted the evident
consternation of the royal entourage with satisfaction. Frater Vincent,
standing beside him, whispered, "Well?"
"All right," the commander said softly, "they've had a taste of what we
got when we came in. I suppose they've had enough. Let's go out and act
like hosts."
The commander and a squad of ten men, along with Frater Vincent, strode
majestically out of the door of the building and walked toward the
Greatest Noble. They had all polished their armor until it shone, which
was about all they could do in the way of finery, but they evidently
looked quite impressive in the eyes of the natives.
"Greetings, Your Effulgence," said the commander, giving the Greatest
Noble a bow that was hardly five degrees from the perpendicular. "I
trust we find you well."
* * * * *
In the buildings surrounding the square, hardly daring to move for fear
the clank of metal on metal might give the whole plan away, the
remaining members of the company watched the conversation between their
commander and the Greatest Noble. They couldn't hear what was being
said, but that didn't matter; they knew what to do as soon as the
commander gave the signal. Every eye was riveted on the commander's
right hand.
It seemed an eternity before the commander casually reached up to his
helmet and brushed a hand across it--once--twice--three times.
Then all hell broke loose. The air was split by the sound of power
weapons throwing their lances of flame into the massed ranks of the
native warriors. The gunners, safe behind the walls of the buildings,
poured a steady stream of accurately directed fire into the packed mob,
while the rest of the men charged in with their blades, thrusting and
slashing as they went.
The aliens, panic-stricken by the sudden, terrifying assault, tried to
run, but there was nowhere to run to. Every exit had been cut off to
bottle up the Imperial cortege. Within minutes, the entrances to the
square were choked with the bodies of those who tried to flee.
As soon as the firing began, the commander and his men began to make
their way toward the Greatest Noble. They had been forced to stand a
good five yards away during the parlay, cut off from direct contact by
the Imperial guards. The commander, sword in hand, began cutting his way
through to the palanquin.
The palanquin bearers seemed frozen; they couldn't run, they couldn't
fight, and they didn't dare drop their precious cargo.
The commander's voice bellowed out over the carnage. "Take him prisoner!
I'll personally strangle the idiot who harms him!" And then he was too
busy to yell.
Two members of the Greatest Noble's personal guard came for him, swords
out, determined to give their lives, if necessary, to preserve the
sacred life of their monarch. And give them they did.
The commander's blade lashed out once, sliding between the ribs of the
first guard. He toppled and almost took the sword with him, but the
commander wrenched it free in time to parry the downward slash of the
second guard's bronze sword. It was a narrow thing, because the bronze
sword, though of softer stuff than the commander's steel, was also
heavier, and thus hard to deflect. As it sang past him, the commander
swung a chop at the man's neck, cutting it halfway through. He stepped
quickly to one side to avoid the falling body and thrust his blade
through a third man, who was aiming a blow at the neck of one of the
commander's officers. There were only a dozen feet separating the
commander from his objective, the palanquin of the Greatest Noble, but
he had to wade through blood to get there.
* * * * *
The palanquin itself was no longer steady. Three of the twelve nobles
who had been holding it had already fallen, and there were two of the
commander's men already close enough to touch the royal person, but they
were too busy fighting to make any attempt to grab him. The Greatest
Noble, unarmed, could only huddle in his seat, terrified, but it would
take more than two men to snatch him from his bodyguard. The commander
fought his way in closer.
[Illustration]
Two more of the palanquin bearers went down, and the palanquin itself
began to topple. The Greatest Noble screamed as he fell toward the
commander.
One of the commander's men spun around as he heard the scream so close
to him, and, thinking that the Greatest Noble was attacking his
commander, lunged out with his blade.
It was almost a disaster. Moving quickly, the commander threw out his
left arm to deflect the sword. He succeeded, but he got a bad slash
across his hand for his trouble.
He yelled angrily at the surprised soldier, not caring what he said.
Meanwhile, the others of the squad, seeing that the Greatest Noble had
fallen, hurried to surround him. Two minutes later, the Greatest Noble
was a prisoner, being half carried, half led into the central building
by four of the men, while the remaining six fought a rear-guard action
to hold off the native warriors who were trying to rescue the sacred
person of the Child of the Sun.
Once inside, the Greatest Noble was held fast while the doors were swung
shut.
Outside, the slaughter went on. All the resistance seemed to go out of
the warriors when they saw their sacred monarch dragged away by the
invading Earthmen. It was every man for himself and the Devil take the
hindmost. And the Devil, in the form of the commander's troops,
certainly did.
Within half an hour after it had begun, the butchery was over. More than
three thousand of the natives had died, and an unknown number more badly
wounded. Those who had managed to get out and get away from the city
kept on going. They told the troops who had been left outside what had
happened, and a mass exodus from the valley began.
Safely within the fortifications of the central building, the commander
allowed himself one of his rare grins of satisfaction. Not a single one
of his own men had been killed, and the only wound which had been
sustained by anyone in the company was the cut on his own hand. Still
smiling, he went into the room where the Greatest Noble, dazed and
shaken, was being held by two of the commander's men. The commander
bowed--this time, very low.
"I believe, Your Effulgence, that we have an appointment for dinner.
Come, the banquet has been laid."
And, as though he were still playing the gracious host, the commander
led the half-paralyzed Child of the Sun to the room where the banquet
had been put on a table in perfect diplomatic array.
"Your Effulgence may sit at my right hand," said the commander
pleasantly.