Red Shift. Alan Garner

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СКАЧАТЬ and Magoo returned.

      “Small settlement,” said Face. “I’ve seen it before. Called Barthomley. Cats. One roundhut: two, three others: estimated twenty men plus families. Situated on low mound, stream to the north at foot called Wulvarn. One gate, shut, guarded: simple ditch and stockade. Four sentries in all. Ditch filled with green thorns.”

      “Attitude,” said Logan.

      “Defensive only.”

      “Trained?”

      “Negative.”

      “We can take ’em,” said Magoo. “If we throw the pack tent across the thorns, the stockade’s only three metres.”

      “Noted,” said Logan.

      They led the mule to within half a kilometre of the settlement, then Logan ordered a halt. It was night and a clear moon.

      “Buzzard, I want you to go in there and bring back one sword.”

      “You kidding?” said Buzzard.

      “Get.”

      Buzzard hesitated.

      “Make with that sword,” said Logan.

      He was away an hour. The blade was long.

      “You can use this?” Logan said to Macey.

      “Guess I can.”

      “Sir,” said Buzzard, “them Cats is easy. They’re farmers. Who needs Macey? Shout ‘Mothers’ over the fence and they’ll die.”

      “Good,” said Logan. “Now we’re going to take out this village with tribal weapons, OK? I figure for the Ninth to survive it must disappear. They won’t put this one down to us. We maximise harassment and interdiction. OK?”

      Magoo grinned. “Outta sight!”

      “Here’s how it is,” said Logan. “Macey flips. We go in across the tent and pull it after us. When we hit their perimeter, Macey should kill four, five just like that. We grab assets, then eliminate. Result, a raid put down to the Mothers, and we have the gear to go tribal. As the Ninth, there will be no abort; but if we louse it up, survivors cut ass out on their own. Questions?”

      “We hit this village,” said Buzzard.

      “Correct.”

      “And they don’t know it’s us.”

      “They know,” said Logan. “But that’s all.”

      “Children. Women.”

      “Wise up,” said Magoo.

      “I told you,” said Logan, “we’re fighting a different war.”

      “I can’t do that cold,” said Buzzard.

      “You won’t be cold,” said Magoo.

      Macey could hardly walk. Logan and Face took an elbow each to steady his trembling. Logan held the sword.

      “You’ll be OK soon, kid. This is the worst. You’re with your mates.”

      The village was only an enclosure on a long, low mound above a stream.

      “How’s that water?” said Logan.

      “Clear,” said Face. “Bog the other side. I suggest we hit near the gate.”

      “Agreed,” said Logan, and settled Macey on the ground, with the sword hilt between his hands, like a child with an unknown toy.

      “Why don’t we try it easy, first?” said Buzzard. “Like ask them to let us in.”

      “You crazy?” said Magoo.

      “No, but Macey is. And when he turns on, he ain’t exactly quiet, neither.”

      “Right,” said Magoo.

      “Surprise is all we got,” said Face.

      “They don’t know that,” said Logan.

      “I’ve been in,” said Buzzard. “They don’t want trouble, but they’re sure scared.”

      “And they don’t come more dangerous than them,” said Face.

      “Go talk to them,” Logan ordered Buzzard. “Say we’re a patrol and we’ve a wounded man. That’ll cover Macey. But don’t let them open the gate. Say there’s Mothers about.”

      “You may not be fooling,” said Magoo.

      “Go with him,” said Logan, “and as soon as Macey’s across them thorns, you and Buzzard drag the tent over. It’s deployed?”

      “Yessir.”

      They went through the forest towards the camp.

      Face twisted a harness round Macey’s shoulders, holding him upright against a tree. Logan worked the leather down to Macey’s elbows. “Keep close behind that trunk,” he said.

      “You bet,” said Face.

      “What you want for light, kid?” said Logan. “There’s a moon.”

      “No!” Macey struggled.

      “Steady,” said Logan. “Not yet. We gotta have light. Stars OK?”

      “Yes.”

      “Well, look there, kid. If that ain’t old Orion up in the sky. Can you see his belt? Three bright stars. Which of those pretty little stars are you going to be?”

      Voices, not loud, came from the camp.

      “Take no notice,” said Logan. “You choose yourself a pretty twinkling star on Orion’s belt. OK?”

      “OK.”

      “Which one?”

      “—Mintaka.”

      “Mintaka. Right. Now you keep watching old Mintaka, and see that son of a bitch don’t run away.”

      Logan took out of his cloak a small wheel from a horse trapping. It was held between two prongs like the rowel of a spur.

      “You keep looking at Mintaka: and catch hold of that sword now.”

      Face gripped the harness and pressed his head and body against the opposite side of the tree. Logan spun the wheel, flickering starlight. He stroked the rim with an accustomed measure, evenly turning the spokes, their invisible shadows glimmering Macey’s eye.

      The voices at the camp argued, but there was no alarm.

      “Go, Macey. Mintaka, СКАЧАТЬ