ggk.thelionsofal-rassan-第100节

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。　He　was　prepared　to　be　extremely　sarcastic　if　this　happened。
　　They　weren't　far　from　Fezana　in　this　cluster　of　huts　and　houses；　but　at　night　under　stars　the　city　would　normally　have　been　lost　to　sight。　It　wasn't　now。　Diego　saw　a　red　glow　to　the　east　and　he　knew　Fezana　was　burning。　His　father　was　in　there。
　　He　put　aside　his　anger　with　that　thought　and　forgetting　about　hunger　closed　his　eyes。
　　He　touched　Rodrigo's　presence；　was　aware　of　him　by　the　city　walls　but　still　inside。　Just　across　the　river　he　found　Fernan。　With　relief；　he　realized　that　he　had　no　sense　of　immediate　danger。　No　fighting　near　either　of　them。　On　impulse　Diego　reached　out　north　and　found　his　mother…closer　than　he　had　expected。
　　He　took　fort　in　knowing　where　she　was。　That　they　were　all　safe；　for　the　moment。　It　even　seemed　they　might　be　together　soon；　here　with　the　king's　army　in　Al…Rassan。　That　would　be　good。　That　would　be　wonderful；　in　fact。　Diego　opened　his　eyes；　letting　his　mind　e　back　to　the　hamlet　and；　reassured；　he　let　himself　think　about　food　again。
　　In　that　moment　he　heard　a　low；　hard　drumming　sound　and　the　first　scream；　cut　off。　Then　he　saw　the　Muwardis。
　　
　　It　was；　in　the　end；　as　might　have　been　expected。　Not　that　this　mattered　to　the　desert…born。　If　anything；　it　was　a　vexation：　when　war　was　too　easy　there　was　less　glory　in　it。
　　Aziz　ibn　Dabir　of　the　Zuhrite　tribe；　assigned　to　serve　in　Fezana　by　the　king　of　Cartada…to　whom　he　had　originally　been　posted　by　his　own　lord；　Yazir　ibn　Q'arif；　ruler　of　all　the　desert…had　taken　one　hundred　of　his　men　west　from　the　city　earlier　that　day。　They　had　stayed　on　the　south　bank　of　the　Tavares　and　then　crossed　at　a　fording　place　where　the　river　curved　and　slowed。
　　At　twilight　they　offered　the　sunset　prayers　and　then；　moving　with　extreme　care；　had　doubled　back　west　towards　the　hamlet　of　Orvilla。
　　It　had　been　considered；　years　ago；　by　the　last　king　of　Cartada　and　his　advisors；　that　if　the　accursed　sun…worshippers　ever　dared　to　venture　south　with　designs　upon　Fezana；　they　would　be　very　likely　to　choose　Orvilla　as　a　base　for　their　supplies　during　a　siege。
　　It　was　the　obvious　place　and　because　of　that　the　plan　of　Almalik　I；　Aziz　had　to　concede；　was　a　shrewd　one。　This　was　true　notwithstanding　that　it　had　been　devised　by　wine…drinkers　in　Al…Rassan；　and　not　by　tribesmen　pure　in　the　will　of　Ashar。
　　Still；　it　was　the　warriors　of　the　Majriti　who　had　been　asked　to　perform　the　attack。　Of　course；　thought　Aziz。　Who　among　the　womanish　men　left　in　Fezana　could　have　implemented　this？
　　During　their　silent　loop　back　to　the　east；　Aziz　had　moved　ahead　of　the　pany　with　his　two　best　outriders。　Leaving　their　horses　out　of　sight；　they　had　crawled　through　the　grass　to　overlook　Orvilla。
　　It　was　exactly　as　had　been　foreseen。
　　The　Jaddites；　stupid　in　their　predictability；　had　indeed　sent　their　wagons　here。　Whichever　of　their　women　had　e　south　would　almost　certainly　be　arriving　in　Orvilla　tomorrow。　Secure　in　the　notion　that　the　people　of　the　countryside　had　fled　into　the　city；　they　hadn't　bothered　to　detail　more　than　a　rudimentary　force　to　guard　those　setting　up　camp。
　　Aziz　heard　careless　laughter；　saw　tents　being　readied；　smelled　meat　already　cooking　on　the　fires。　He　caught　snatches　of　conversation　in　the　sibilant　accents　of　Esperana。　He　didn't　understand　what　was　being　said。　It　didn't　matter。　What　mattered　was　that　his　tribesmen　were　going　to　achieve　a　slaughter　here。　One　that　ought　to　shake　the　invading　northerners　to　their　godless　souls。　Aziz　had　ideas　as　to　how　to　heighten　that　effect。　It　was　a　shame　that　the　women　weren't　here　yet：　that　would　have　made　things　perfect。　Aziz　had　not　had　a　woman　for　some　time。
　　Unconsciously　he　stroked　the　head　of　the　hammer　looped　at　his　belt…his　own　favorite　weapon。　It　had　been　his　father's　before　him；　on　the　legendary　first　ride　of　the　Zuhrites　out　of　the　farthest　west。　It　would　one　day　belong　to　his　own　eldest　son；　if　Ashar's　stars　allowed　it　to　be　so。
　　Ashar　seemed　to　be　with　him　in　that　moment。　Just　as　Aziz　was　about　to　slip　down　from　his　vantage　point　and　order　the　attack；　something　alerted　him　to　danger。　He　held　out　a　warning　hand　to　his　two　panions　and　placed　an　ear　to　the　ground。　Hoofbeats。　The　other　two；　doing　the　same；　looked　at　Aziz　in　the　darkness。
　　They　waited。　A　few　moments　later　a　pany　of　soldiers　rode　up　on　the　proud　stallions　of　Valledo。　Aziz　coveted　those　horses　almost　as　much　as　he　wanted　to　sever　the　heads　and　sexual　organs　of　the　men　who　rode　them。　It　was　dark　of　course；　but　there　were　fires　in　Orvilla　and　Aziz　was　blessed　with　good　night　vision。　He　made　out　fifty　riders；　not　more。　They　could　deal　with　that；　in　fact　he　wanted　to　deal　with　them。　This　was　now　an　attack　in　which　glory　could　be　found。
　　Timing　mattered。　They　had　been　ordered　to　engage　and　then　swiftly　withdraw…not　risk　being　trapped　outside　the　city。　He　saw　the　new　Horsemen　enter　Orvilla；　riding　through　a　gate　in　the　low　fence　rebuilt　since　the　fire　of　last　summer。　He　bent　his　head　towards　one　of　his　men　and　whispered　his　orders。　Nothing　very　plex。　There　was　no　need　for　plications　here。
　　〃These　men　will　be　hungry　now；　and　vulnerable。　Get　back　to　the　others。　Tell　them　we　attack　now；　in　Ashar's　name。〃
　　The　god's　stars　were　steady　above　them。　The　new　Jaddites　were　dismounting；　even　as　he　watched。　Their　horses　were　being　led　away　by　servants。　These　men　would　be　fighters；　Aziz　knew；　but　on　foot？　Against　one　hundred　of　the　best…trained　Muwardis　in　Al…Rassan？
　　A　moment　later　Aziz　heard　the　sound　of　hooves。　He　stood　up　and　looked　back。　He　saw　the　curved　line　of　his　tribesmen　approaching。　One　man　came　sweeping　up　to　him；　the　reins　of　Aziz's　horse　in　one　hand。　Aziz　swung　up　onto　the　saddle　cloth　while　the　horses　were　still　moving。　He　pulled　his　hammer　free　of　his　belt。
　　He　heard　a　scream　from　one　of　the　cookfires。　The　sound　broke　off　sharply。　Someone　had　shot　an　arrow。　There　were　other　cries；　the　desperate　sounds　of　men　caught　utterly　by　surprise。
　　They　reached　the　low　fence　and　hurdled　it。　Aziz　lifted　his　own　voice　then；　crying　Ashar's　name　in　triumph　beneath　the　watching；　holy　stars。
　　They　did；　in　the　darkness　of　night；　what　they　had　e　out　from　Fezana　to　do。　They　killed；　and　more　than　that。　A　message　was　to　be　given　here；　and　the　northerners　were　not　to　be　permitted　to　avoid　that　message。
　　There　was　some　resistance；　which　offered　a　kind　of　pleasure。　The　fifty　men　who　had　e　were　soldiers；　but　they　were　outnumbered　and　on　foot；　and　the　Muwardis　knew　exactly　what　they　were　doing。
　　Aziz　had　already　identified　the　leader　of　the　soldiers　and　chosen　him　for　his　own；　as　a　captain　of　the　tribes　had　to　do　if　he　wanted　to　keep　his　honor　and　rank。　He　raced　up　to　the　man；　wheeling　his　hammer　in　anticipation…but　then　had　to　rock　wildly　in　the　saddle　to　avoid　a　leaping　sword　blow　from　the　northerner。
　　The　man　was　no　longer　young；　but　he　was　quick；　and　had　very　nearly　been　deadly。　Aziz；　going　past；　turning　his　horse；　saw　the　tribesman　behind　him　fall　to　a　second　slash　of　the　same　sword。　The　Jaddite　mander；　a　dark；　tall　man；　shoved　the　tribesman　from　the　saddle　and　swung　himself　up　on　the　horse　in　the　same　motion。　The　two　leaders　faced　each　other。　Aziz　smiled。　This　was　life；　this　was　what　a　man　lived　for。
　　The　Valledan　screamed　something　suddenly；　and　brandished　his　sword　high。　It　was　too　flamboyant；　he　was　too　far　away。　A　distraction。
　　Aziz　turned；　instinctively；　and　saw　the　boy　with　a　blade　ing　towards　him　from　behind。　If　his　horse　had　been　stabbed　Aziz　might　have　been　in　peril；　but　the　boy　disdained　such　tactics；　swinging　upwards　for　the　Muwardi's　ribs。　Aziz　blocked　the　blow　and　then…something　he　had　done　a　hundred　times；　at　least…brought　his　hammer　across　and　down；　through　the　feeble　parrying　of　that　sword。　He　smashed　the　boy's　skull；　felt　it　break　like　the　shell　of　an　egg。
　　〃Diego！〃　the　Valledan　leader　cried。
　　Aziz　laughed　aloud。　The　dark　Valledan　drove　his　seized　mount　forward　and　chopped　at　the　neck　of　Aziz's　horse。　The　sword　bit　deep。　The　animal　screamed；　rearing　wildly　on　its　hind　legs。　Aziz　fought　to　keep　his　seat；　felt　himself　sliding；　and　saw　the　northerner's　long　sword　ing。
　　Had　Aziz　ibn　Dabir　been　a　lesser　man　he　would　have　died　then。　He　was　a　Muwardi　though；　of　the　Zuhrites；　hand…picked　to　e　to　Al…Rassan。　He　hurled　his　body　from　the　saddle；　away　from　the　sweeping　blade；　and　hit　the　ground　on　the　far　side　of　his　horse。
　　He　came　up　with　his　left　shoulder　hurting　but　his　hammer　ready。　It　wasn't　necessary。　Aziz　saw　that　the　Valledan　had　been　dispatched　from　behind　by　two　of　the　tribesmen。　One　sword　had　gone　in　so　far　it　had　e　out　through　the　man's　breast　where　he　lay　on　the　ground。
　　Aware　that　he　had　lost　more　than　dignity　in　this　encounter；　Aziz　strode　over　and　seized　the　sword　from　the　second　tribesman。　Enraged；　he　severed　the　dead　man's　head　with　a　blow。　He　spoke　a　mand；　breathing　hard。　One　of　his　men　leaped　from　his　horse　and　pulled　down　the　lower　clothing　of　the　dead　man。　Aziz；　not　troubling　to　be　neat　about　it；　castrated　the　Valledan。　Then　he　seized　the　dead　boy；　flipped　him　on　his　belly；　and　dragged　the　headless；　emasculated　captain　on　top　of　him；　as　if　they　had　been　lovers　butchered　in　congress。
　　It　w