Book 5 - With Mercy Toward None by Glen Cook Read Free Book Online Page A

I thought an independent viewer might see something I'd missed."
    "We don't punish our hands when they fail us by dropping something. I don't like the Scourge of God. I don't trust him, either. Yet he has no equal. Karim is good. El-Kader is good. And yet they are but shadows of the master. I say the Lord wrought well when he brought you two together. Let him undertake to keep you together."
    "And yet... "
    "The day he becomes a liability will be the last day of his life, Lord. A silver dagger will find him."
    "That's a comfort, Mowaffak. I sometimes wonder if I deserve the affection of the Invincibles."
    Mowaffak seemed startled. "My Lord, if you didn't you wouldn't have won our love."
    "Thank you, Mowaffak. You reassure me, even if you can't ease my confusion."
    Disharhun was coming again. Each day made him more nervous. The moment of no return was hurtling toward him like a falling star. It would be too late once the Children of Hammad al Nakir crossed the Sahel. The great war would continue till the Empire was restored or his people had been trampled into the dust.
    Warriors were arriving when he asked Nassef, "Should we put it off a year? So we'd have more time to get ready?"
    "No. Don't get the jitters. Time is our enemy. The west is weak and confused. Not sure we'll attack. But they're bumbling along, getting ready. In a year they'd know and be organized."
    El Murid made his Mashad speech to the assembled host. He was awed by its vastness. Fifty thousand men faced him. They had gathered at
his
command. And as many more were moving toward the Sahel already.
    Hardly a grown man would stay home this summer.
    He exhorted them to carry the Word, then returned to the Shrines. He was prepared to remain near the Most Holy Altar, praying, till the trend of the campaign became clear.
    The first reports seemed too good to be true. Yasmid told him it was going better than Nassef had hoped.
    Then Mowaffak Hali came to him. "Lord, I need your advice."
    "How so?"
    "A man named Allaf Shaheed, a captain of the Invincibles, has made a dangerous mistake. The question is how we should react."
    "Explain."
    "A force of Invincibles encountered Guild General Hawkwind in the domains of Hellin Daimiel. Foolishly, they offered battle. Hawkwind shattered them."
    "And that has what to do with this Shaheed?"
    "He assumed command of the survivors. While fleeing he chanced on a Guild landhold. He slew everyone there."
    "So?"
    "We're not at war with the Guild proper, Lord. We're at war with people who employ Guildsmen. That's a critical distinction. They demand that it be observed."
    "They demand? Of me, Mowaffak? The Lord makes demands of El Murid. Not men."
    "Perhaps, Lord. But should we needlessly incur the hatred of ten thousand men as dedicated as our own Harish? Twice have they invoked what they call the Sanctions of Nonverid and gone to war as an order. Each time they eradicated their enemies root and branch. Were they to muster their full strength and march against Al Rhemish not even the Scourge of God could stop them."
    "I think you exaggerate, Mowaffak. And I won't be dictated to by infidels."
    "I merely suggest that we not add to our burdens, Lord. That we make a gesture to placate the old men of High Crag. The Guild scattered, taken piecemeal, is far less dangerous than the Guild faced as a body."
    El Murid reflected. He saw the sense of Hali's argument. Wadi el Kuf had been impressive. But there was also the fact that petitioning the Guild at any level constituted an admission of weakness.
    There was no weakness in the Lord.
    "Relieve Shaheed. Return him to Al Rhemish. Otherwise, do nothing but instruct your captains not to let it happen again."
    "As you command, Lord." Mowaffak Hali grew pale. He had survived Wadi el Kuf. He hoped never to witness such a slaughter again.
    He debated with himself for a day before finding room in his conscience for disobedience.
    He sent three messengers by three routes, each bearing letters begging