The Warrior's Tale Read Online Free Page B
victor.'
If that happened, we didn't stand a chance. The Far Kingdoms are superior to us all in the practice of magic. They were our allies, thanks to Amalric. But would they remain so?
'We'll just have to face that when it comes,' I said, returning to the safety of fatalism. 'If it comes at all.'
'Preventing it will be my sole labour until the war is over,' my brother said. 'The Magistrates have ordered me to Irayas. I'm to keep King Domas sweet for the duration.'
I didn't have to look at his gloomy face to know this was upsetting. He would not only miss the fight, but would be forced to live among strangers for as many years as the war took.
'When do you leave?' I asked.
'In a few days,' he said. 'As soon as I get my things together and a ship is readied.'
Both of us considered what the future might hold. My own thinking was there was little time for my brother to help me in my own task.
'Before you go,' I said, 'I want you to speak to the Magistrates. Every person is going to be needed for this fight. The Maranon Guard must not be kept home!'
Amalric shook his head. 'I already brought the subject up,' he said. 'And despite all my arguments ... it was rejected.'
My heart plunged. I was stunned to have lost so quickly.
'But, why?' I cried, although - as I said before - I knew the answer.
'The usual reasons,' he said. 'I listened to their tired old quarrel for hours.'
'Let me list them,' I said, my temper barely under control. 'The gods made women gentle , and it's unnatural for them to be warriors; we aren't strong or hardy enough to take the field; our moods are controlled by our monthlies; we have no reasoning powers, but are victims of casual fancy; male soldiers wouldn't trust us to fight by their sides; or, they'd be too protective, putting their own lives and the mission at risk; we, their daughters, would become whores, since it's a well-known fact women have no control over their base natures and will fuck every man in sight; and, if we are captured, the enemy will rape us, demeaning the Manhood of Orissa.'
'I don't think you have missed one,' my brother said, drily. 'The last reason drew the most heated comments.'
'Oh, lizard shit!' I said.
'My feelings, exactly ,' Amalric said. 'Although my replies were not so colourful, or to the point. Plus, there is one thing I have not mentioned as yet. General Jinnah will be named to head the expeditionary force. It was he, in fact, who was the most vociferous in opposing the deployment of the Guard.'
My anger found new heights. Jinnah as Supreme Commander! That surprised me, but shouldn't have. Jinnah was one of those soldiers a country at peace spawns like a compost heap breeds maggots. They're all of a type: coming from the proper family; educated in the proper lyceums; serving in exactly the right post at exactly the right time as they rise in rank; able to speak well to their superiors; calm yet resolute to politicians; almost always handsome and grave, the very image of what a leader should look like; and never touched by scandal. In time of war, all of these pluses become fatal defects: their families and teachers will not have allowed an original idea or person to cross the threshold for generations; their kowtowing to their overlords proves a mockery since they believe their superiors to be even more stupid than they are; in frustration they take out their anger by treating their underlings with arrogance and disdain. Finally they've avoided scandal by never doing anything unless they had to, and only then if there was a culpable subordinate to blame should things go awry. As for their cultured looks - I've never known a handsome face to turn aside a spear thrust.
In short, I felt General Jinnah to be an exact mirror of everything that was wrong with the Orissan Army, as it dreamed through the long years of peace.
I'd never run afoul of the man, although once in manoeuvres, when we were detailed off as the mock-enemy, I'd sent my Guard into 'battle'
If that happened, we didn't stand a chance. The Far Kingdoms are superior to us all in the practice of magic. They were our allies, thanks to Amalric. But would they remain so?
'We'll just have to face that when it comes,' I said, returning to the safety of fatalism. 'If it comes at all.'
'Preventing it will be my sole labour until the war is over,' my brother said. 'The Magistrates have ordered me to Irayas. I'm to keep King Domas sweet for the duration.'
I didn't have to look at his gloomy face to know this was upsetting. He would not only miss the fight, but would be forced to live among strangers for as many years as the war took.
'When do you leave?' I asked.
'In a few days,' he said. 'As soon as I get my things together and a ship is readied.'
Both of us considered what the future might hold. My own thinking was there was little time for my brother to help me in my own task.
'Before you go,' I said, 'I want you to speak to the Magistrates. Every person is going to be needed for this fight. The Maranon Guard must not be kept home!'
Amalric shook his head. 'I already brought the subject up,' he said. 'And despite all my arguments ... it was rejected.'
My heart plunged. I was stunned to have lost so quickly.
'But, why?' I cried, although - as I said before - I knew the answer.
'The usual reasons,' he said. 'I listened to their tired old quarrel for hours.'
'Let me list them,' I said, my temper barely under control. 'The gods made women gentle , and it's unnatural for them to be warriors; we aren't strong or hardy enough to take the field; our moods are controlled by our monthlies; we have no reasoning powers, but are victims of casual fancy; male soldiers wouldn't trust us to fight by their sides; or, they'd be too protective, putting their own lives and the mission at risk; we, their daughters, would become whores, since it's a well-known fact women have no control over their base natures and will fuck every man in sight; and, if we are captured, the enemy will rape us, demeaning the Manhood of Orissa.'
'I don't think you have missed one,' my brother said, drily. 'The last reason drew the most heated comments.'
'Oh, lizard shit!' I said.
'My feelings, exactly ,' Amalric said. 'Although my replies were not so colourful, or to the point. Plus, there is one thing I have not mentioned as yet. General Jinnah will be named to head the expeditionary force. It was he, in fact, who was the most vociferous in opposing the deployment of the Guard.'
My anger found new heights. Jinnah as Supreme Commander! That surprised me, but shouldn't have. Jinnah was one of those soldiers a country at peace spawns like a compost heap breeds maggots. They're all of a type: coming from the proper family; educated in the proper lyceums; serving in exactly the right post at exactly the right time as they rise in rank; able to speak well to their superiors; calm yet resolute to politicians; almost always handsome and grave, the very image of what a leader should look like; and never touched by scandal. In time of war, all of these pluses become fatal defects: their families and teachers will not have allowed an original idea or person to cross the threshold for generations; their kowtowing to their overlords proves a mockery since they believe their superiors to be even more stupid than they are; in frustration they take out their anger by treating their underlings with arrogance and disdain. Finally they've avoided scandal by never doing anything unless they had to, and only then if there was a culpable subordinate to blame should things go awry. As for their cultured looks - I've never known a handsome face to turn aside a spear thrust.
In short, I felt General Jinnah to be an exact mirror of everything that was wrong with the Orissan Army, as it dreamed through the long years of peace.
I'd never run afoul of the man, although once in manoeuvres, when we were detailed off as the mock-enemy, I'd sent my Guard into 'battle'
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