Helliconia Summer - Brian W. Aldiss [477]
So the Sibornalese settlers in Isturiacha prepared for siege, while looking anxiously to see if reinforcement would come from the north. So the guns from Pannoval and her allies were wheeled into position to aim at Isturiacha.
Some confusion reigned both at the front and the rear of the mixed Pannovalan force. The elderly Chief Marshal in charge of the advance was powerless to stop units who had looted other Sibornalese settlements from heading back to Pannoval with their spoils. Other units were summoned forward to replace them. Meanwhile, the artillery situated inside the walls of the settlement began to bombard the Pannovalan lines.
Bruum. Bruum. The short-lived explosions burst among the contingent from Randonan, which had come from the south of the Savage Continent.
Many nations were represented in the ranks of the Pannovalan expeditionary army. There were ferocious skirmishers from Kace, who marched, slept, and fought with their dehorned phagors; tall stone-faced men of Brasterl, who came kilted from the Western Barriers; tribes from Mordriat, with their lively timoroon mascots; together with a strong battalion from Borldoran, the Oldorando-Borlien Joint Monarchy – Pannoval’s strongest ally. A few amid their number presented the squat shape of those who had suffered the Fat Death and lived.
The Borldoranians had crossed the Quzint Mountains by high and windy passes to fight beside their fellows. Some had fallen ill and turned for home. The remaining force, fatigued, now discovered their access to the river blocked by units which had arrived earlier, so that they were unable to water their mounts.
The argument grew hot while shells from Isturiacha exploded nearby. The commandant of the Borldoranian battalion strode off to make complaint to the Chief Marshal. This commandant was a jaunty man, young to command, with a military moustache and a concave back, by name Bandal Eith Lahl.
With Bandal Eith Lahl went his pretty young wife, Toress Lahl. She was a doctor, and also had a complaint for the old Chief Marshal – a complaint about the poor standards of hygiene. She walked discreetly behind her husband, behind that rigid back, letting her skirts trail on the ground.
They presented themselves at the Marshal’s tent. An aide-de-camp emerged, looking apologetic.
‘The Marshal is indisposed, sir. He regrets that he is unable to see you, and hopes to listen to your complaint another day.’
‘“Another day”!’ exclaimed Toress Lahl. ‘Is that an expression a soldier should use in the field?’
‘Tell the Marshal that if he thinks like that,’ Bandal Eith Lahl said, ‘our forces may not live to see another day.’
He made a bold attempt to tug off his moustache before turning on his heel. His wife followed him back to their lines – to find the Borldoranians also under fire from Isturiacha. Toress Lahl was not alone in noticing the ominous birds already beginning to gather above the plain.
The peoples of Campannlat never planned as efficiently as those of Sibornal. Nor were they ever as disciplined. Nevertheless, their expedition had been well organised. Officers and men had set out cheerfully, conscious of their just cause. The northern army had to be driven from the southern continent.
Now they were less buoyant in mood. Some men, having women with them, were making love in case this was their last opportunity for that pleasure. Others were drinking heavily. The officers, too, were losing their appetites for just causes. Isturiacha was not like a city, worth the taking: it would hold little except slaves, heavy-bodied women, and agricultural implements.
The higher command also was depressed. The Chief Marshal had received word that wild phagors were now coming down from the High Nktryhk – that great aggregate of mountain ranges – to invade the plains; the Chief Marshal suffered a fit of coughing as a result.
The general feeling was that