By the day, three years ago, that they had appeared under the walls of the city of Kahlkopolis, onetime seat of the Thoheeksee of Kahikhos, the few straggling hundreds of ill-or sketchily armed bandits were become an impressive, very threatening sight, indeed.

All classes of infantry marched in their ranks, fully armed and equipped, heavy cavalry rode in that column, with light cavalry on the wings and riding guard on the awesome siege train. Only elephants were lacking, and this deficiency was partly alleviated through use of old-fashioned mule-drawn warcarts as archery platforms—the stout, armored cart bodies, with scytheblades set in the wheel hubs and the big mules all hung with mail having proven almost as effective as elephants at the task of smashing in infantry formations for years before the pachyderms had been adapted to warfare.

The last thoheeks, Klawdos, was by then five years dead, a casualty of the civil war, along with all his male kin. His wife and infant son had disappeared shortly after his death, and the city was then being held by a distant cousin of the ancient line, a bastard with little claim to noble blood, even less to military experience. So, when he ordered the gates to be closed and the walls to be manned by the pitifully few men he owned to defend them, what was left of the city council did the only reasonable thing: they murdered him.

Since then, Mainahkos had been thoheeks in all save only name, having seen to it that the city councilmen quickly followed their victim into death, by one means or another. He had been upon the teetering verge of declaring himself Thoheeks Mainahkos Klehftis of Klehftispolis (as he and his men had become “respectable,” he had adopted the new surname, and now no man who was undesirous of a messy, agonizing and brutally protracted demise ever called the warlord Klehp-teekos—“the thief”) when he had learned that the son of his legal predecessor still lived.

He and his fellow warlord had both chanced to be out of the city when the boy had come nosing about in company with some arrogant dotard, but they had been gone beyond recall when the would-be thoheeks had returned, and he had had the fools who had allowed their escape flayed alive and rolled in salt for their stupidity. Those cured skins still hung in a prominent place in his hall of audience, a silent, savage warning to his surviving followers.

As the would-be thoheeks sat at meat with his principal officer-advisers and his longtime partner, Ahreekos (who had never bothered to change his surname, still reveling in the cognomen of “Butcher,” although he was grown now far too lat to do much real fighting of any nature), the topic of the discussion was that army which they had had word was even now advancing against them from the southeast.

In answer to a query from Mainahkhos, the heavy cavalry commander, one Stehrghiahnos—who had been born and reared the heir to a vahrohneeskos, though he had forfeited title and lands and very nearly life itself through too early a support of the then-rebel Thoheeks Zastros—said cautiously, “My lord, it might be as well to essay a meeting with these commanders. After all, my lord’s claim to this thoheekseeahn is as good as any; he has been a good lord and owns the support of the people of the city, at least.”

Ahreekhos nodded agreement. “He’s right, you know, Mainahkhos. From whatall my scouts have told me, that army a-coming ain’t one I’d of cared to face three years agone, even, when we were at full strength, much less now. And they got them elephants, too, at least three of the critters, prob’ly more.

“Why not send out Stehrghiahnos, there, and a couple more fellers and let them palaver with this strahteegos, huh? Ain’t nuthin to be lost by that, is it? Old Thoheeks Grahvos and them is making new thoheeksee and komeesee and such all over the place, and, like’s just been said, you got you as good a claim to this here city and all as anybody has. Could be, you say you’ll stand a-hint Thoheeks Grahvos and them, won’t be no battle a-tall.”

Mainahkhos shrugged. “Hell, that’s right, ain’t a damn thing lost by talking with them bastids ... but 1 want the levy and all raised at the same time, too. And send word to old Ratface Billisos to brang up every swingin’ dick he can lay claws to from the western komeeseeahnee, too, and all the mounts what he can beg, borror or steel, too.”

Strateegos Thoheeks Pahvlos received Stehrghiahnos, of course, but treated him with the contempt that he felt a renegade nobleman deserved. When he had heard him out, he shrugged and spoke.

“Were the house indeed extinct, there might possibly be a bare modicum of sense in what you have said, but it is not extinct. Here, at this very table, sits the rightful Thoheeks of Kahlkos.” He nodded his white head in the direction of young

Ahramos, who sat stiffly and blankfaced in his dusty, fieldbrowned armor, his plain helm and sheathed sword on the tabletop before him.

From where he stood (Pahvlos had deliberately proffered no chair or stool), Stehrghiahnos eyed the husky boy critically, then said, “We might avoid a general, assuredly-costly battle, you know, my lord Thoheeks, by the simple, old-fashioned expedient of arranging a session-in-arms between the present Thoheeks of Kahlkos and this pretender your present here . . . ?”

“Cow-flop!” the old man snorted in scorn, adding, “In addition to being an arrant traitor to your class and your breeding, you seem to possess all the native intelligence of a braying ass . . . And 1 warn you, sirrah, if you make the mistake of drawing that blade, I’ll see you lose that hand a joint an hour before you leave this camp!

“To begin, Thoheeks Ahramos here, far from being some pretender, is the rightful overlord of Kahlkos, Thoheeks by birth; as such, he deserves and is being afforded the firm support of every loyal, right-thinking nobleman of this new Confederated Thoheekseeahnee . . . which is precisely why I and my army are here.

“The sort of resolution you’ve suggested does not apply to this situation. It was considered legal only for cases wherein both contenders owned equal birthright claim or no claim at all. Besides, no gentleman—no true gentleman—of my army is going to go forth to meet a common bandit chief on terms of equality . . . and I find it significant of just how lar down the ladder you have descended that you would even suggest so dishonorable a course to me and Thoheeks Ahramos.”

Strahteegos Thoheeks Pahvlos’ original order of battle had been to place the armored pikemen of Hehluh and Bi/.ahros at the center of his line, retaining the unarmored pikemen of Ahzprinos as a reserve and placing half of the Horseclan medium-heavy cavalry on each wing to provide enfilading archery against any aggressive movements on the part of the enemy. He did not intend to advance until the opposing force had been bled a bit at trying to break his line.

Report of probing cavalry patrols and information gleaned from captives as well as a few loyalists who had managed to flee the city had assured the old soldier that, although outnumbered, his was much the better, more reliable army.

The broad, verdant plain surrounding the city was the logical place for any battle. True, it was not all open ground, there were a few copses here and there, a few folds of the landscape, but none large enough or deep enough to allow for ambushes or unpleasant surprises for any save the smallest of units.

A week after the visit of Stehrghiahnos to his camp, the elderly strahteegos was apprised by a sweating, bleeding galloper that a detachment of his far-ranging lancers had made contact—violent contact—with an estimated two thousand men, mixed horse and foot, who were apparently guarding a long ~wagon train, a large herd of cattle and a smaller herd of horses and mules. The newcomers were marching west to east in the direction of Kahlkopolis.