Mother of Demons
The demon hesitated. Then: "Triple-eighty."
"So few?"
Silence. The demon looked away for a time. It was, Nukurren realized, a critical moment.
Dzhenushkunutushen turned back. His bright blue eyes were unwavering.
"There are no more ummun than that on this world, Nukurren. Except a very few too old to fight."
Nukurren made the gesture which, in Anshaku, is called unnudh wap kottu. The gesture expresses a sentiment which is not readily translatable into English. A different human culture had an equivalent—that particular bow by which one samurai acknowledges another.
"I am honored by your trust," she said.
Suddenly, the demon rose partly erect. His stick-peds (legs, Nukurren had learned) were strangely bent, and he rested on the joints. He clasped together his forelimb extremities (hands) and nodded his head. Nukurren immediately understood that Dzhenushkunutushen was reciprocating the unnudh wap kottu. It did not seem a practiced gesture, and she thought that the demon had invented it on the spot.
Her surmises were confirmed.
They are terrible in war, yet they are not really warriors. They use the tactics of barbarians, yet they are more civilized than Anshac. Their arts and crafts are crude, judging from the poorly built hospital, yet their knowledge seems immense. They are a mystery beyond any I have ever encountered.
"Your tactics are crude and stupid. That would not matter, if your numbers were great. Against equal numbers of gukuy warriors, of any people, you will always win, because you are so much faster. After a time, however, when gukuy become accustomed to your skills, you will suffer losses which you cannot afford. Against Kiktu, you will always do well because the Kiktu fight much as you do. Stupidly. Against a good Anshac legion, you would be defeated by the third battle. Against an excellent legion, by the second. You have no chance against the Utuku. The Utuku tactics are crude, but they always send huge numbers into battle, and they are highly disciplined. You will break against them."
The white of Dzhenushkunutushen's mantle (no, the demons call it "skin,") was flushed with pink.
He is embarrassed, interpreted Nukurren, but this time, I think, he is not pleased.
The demon took a deep breath.
"I guess I asked for that," he said softly, looking down at the ground. He raised his eyes. As always, Nukurren was struck by their dazzling color.
"Can our chances be improved?" he asked.
Nukurren made the gesture of uncertainty.
"The question has no simple answer. It depends on many things. Some of these go far beyond battle methods. But—insofar as your question involves tactics, the answer is: perhaps."
"Perhaps? Why—perhaps?"
"Because the true question you must ask of yourself. Are demons willing to learn? Or are they as full of their pride as most gukuy?"
Suddenly, Dzhenushkunutushen was laughing, and making that side-to-side motion of his head which Nukurren had learned was the demon gesture of negation.
"You still do not understand, Nukurren. We are not demons. We are ummun, and barely beyond childhood. If there is one thing we know how to do well, it is learn."
Nukurren was unconvinced. "Of you, that may be true. But I do not think it is true of your kapitanu, Yoshefadenukunula."
Again, Dzhenushkunutushen made the gesture of negation.
"You do not understand him, Nukurren. It is his color which confuses you. You think he is implacable. He is actually the most uncertain of us all, but because we depend on him so, can never show it."
Nukurren was silent, unconvinced.
"You will see," said Dzhenushkunutushen.
That night, in the hospital, Dhowifa prattled happily of the events of the day. Again, as had been true since they arrived among the ummun, Dhowifa had spent most of his time in the company of Ushulubang. Only at night did he return to the hospital.
Nukurren did not begrudge Dhowifa his absences. It had been the worst of Dhowifa's pain when they fled Shakutulubac, other than losing his malebond, to lose the company of Ushulubang. And now he had found her again, and was able to spend entire days in the sage's company, instead of a few hours snatched from under the watchful eyes of the Ansha.
On this night, however, Nukurren would have preferred it if Dhowifa had been silent. His incessant chatter was distracting her from her own thoughts, which were focussed on the problem Dzhenushkunutushen had set before her.
By what tactics could a few demons defeat the Utuku hordes?
That night, Nukurren found no answer. But she did find many useful questions.
The next day, and for five days thereafter, she squatted silently by the training field, watching the demon exercises. She said nothing to Dzhenushkunutushen, and he, as if guided by some unspoken understanding, said nothing to her.
On the seventh day, Nukurren decided that her health was sufficiently restored. She told Dzhenushkunutushen to take her to the armory. Asking no questions, the ummun led her to a large wooden hut located some distance away. There, laboring with simple and primitive tools, Nukurren found several Pilgrims. Most of them were Anshac. To her surprise, she recognized the leader of the group. Her name was Utguko, and she had been, long before, the armorer for Nukurren's first legion.
Nukurren turned to Dzhenushkunutushen.
"I will need certain things to be made here." Dzhenushkunutushen made the gesture of assent and gave instructions to Utguko. Nukurren was interested to see that they conversed in Enagulishuc instead of Anshaku. They did so, she knew, not to keep secrets from her but because it was the wishes of the sage Ushulubang that Enagulishuc become the language of the Way.
"It will be done," said Dzhenushkunutushen to her, speaking now in Anshaku.
"Is good," she replied, in Enagulishuc. She interpreted Dzhenushkunutushen's stillness as surprise that Nukurren was learning Enagulishuc so quickly. Nukurren herself began to stiffen then, feeling the old hurt return, that she should be thought stupid simply because she was big and ugly. Then, after a moment, she relaxed. In truth, Nukurren was learning more quickly than would most gukuy.
"Tomorrow," she continued, still speaking Enagulishuc, "at training field. We see if demon can learn. If will learn."
After Dzhenushkunutushen left, Nukurren explained to Utguko her requirements. The old armorer was surprised, but she made no objections.
Early in the morning on the following day, when Nukurren returned, the materials she had requested were ready. Thoughtfully, Utguko had wrapped them in a reed-bundle, which made the bulky items easier to carry.
Hoisting the bundle onto her mantle, Nukurren made her way toward the training field. Her route took her through the demon village, past the longhouses of the warriors and the small huts of the older leaders. As she passed through the village, many demons emerged from the longhouses and began following her. To Nukurren's surprise, the Mother of Demons herself emerged from her hut and joined the crowd.
By the time she reached the training field, it seemed that every demon was present. On the field, in a small group, were those whom Nukurren had learned were their battle leaders. The kapitanu, Yoshefadekunula; the three liyutenanatu, Ludumilaroshokavashiki, Anadurumakfurrushen, Takashimitodzhugudzhi; and the Sharredzhenutumadzhoru, Dzhenushkunutushen.
Nukurren advanced to the middle of the field and stopped before the small group of demons. She unrolled the reed-bundle and selected, from the pile, a training fork and flail. The instruments were designed much like actual weapons, but were deliberately blunted and wrapped in resinous cloth to prevent serious injuries.
For a moment, Nukurren was tempted to speak in Enagulishuc. But she decided to use Anshaku instead. It was important there be no misunderstandings.
"First, you must learn you can be defeated. I do not believe you know this yet. Now you will learn. I do not know if you have such things as training spears. It would be better to use them. If you use real spears, I will be forced to move very quickly, and I may not be able to keep from harming
you seriously."
The demons stared down at her. After a moment, the kapitanu called out a command. Soon thereafter, a male demon came onto the field, bearing spears which were simply blunted wood instead of metal-tipped.
The five battle leaders each took a spear.
"Your armor also," instructed Nukurren. Seeing the hesitation, she whistled derision.
"You are fools," she said.
The five demons donned their battle armor.
"Which of us do you wish to practice with?" asked Dzhenushkunutushen.
"All."
"All? That's ridiculous!"
"Great fools." Nukurren fell upon them.
The combat which followed was savage and short. This time, Nukurren had the advantage of surprise, and she used it ruthlessly. Before the demons had even begun to react, Anadurumakfurrushen and Takashimitodzhugudzhi were sprawled half-senseless on the ground. Ludumilaroshokavashiki was able to avoid Nukurren's first flail-blow by virtue of her incredible speed, but, as Nukurren had foreseen, she was temporarily off-balance. Nukurren now pivoted against Dzhenushkunutushen, forcing him against Yoshefadekunula, and then hammered the white male mercilessly with both fork and flail. As she had suspected, Dzhenushkunutushen was very strong, but he was not as strong as Nukurren. He went down under the blows, entangling the demonlord in his fall.
That allowed Nukurren the time she needed to finish Ludumilaroshokavashiki. Again, she was impressed by the speed and dexterity of the female warrior; but it availed Ludumilaroshokavashiki nothing. She was overconfident, as Nukurren had known she would be. The demon lunged in with a headthrust of her spear. It was a clever feint, designed to draw forth a missed fork-stroke. But Nukurren's battle-experience was by far the greater. Instead of the fork-stroke she expected, Ludumilaroshokavashiki found her spear entrapped by Nukurren flair; and then, helpless, came the fork-stroke which spilled her to the ground, her armor splintering under the impact.
Nukurren spun about and, without even looking, rolled to the side. The demonlord's spearthrust missed her completely. She lashed with the flail and then, pleased beyond measure, saw that Yoshefadekunula had again avoided it by that impossible upward spring.
But I know it now, demonlord.
She could not deny the satisfaction it gave her to swat the demonlord in midair, with a stroke of the fork which was, perhaps, excessively harsh.
She spun about. Three of the demons were beginning to rise, but Nukurren stilled them with quick touches of the flail. These were not blows, simply touches. But they were enough to drive home the lesson. All were now at her mercy, and there would have been nothing, had they been using real weapons in a real battle, to prevent her from slaying them.
She stepped back and set down her fork and flail.
"That is the first lesson. There will be no other today. Tomorrow I will begin teaching you the Utuku way of war, so that you may learn how to combat them. But today's lesson is the most important lesson of all, and you must think upon it."
She rolled up her instruments in the reed-bundle and carried them back to the hospital.
Late that night, Dzhenushkunutushen came to the hospital and sat by Nukurren's pallet. He said nothing for a time, nor did Nukurren.
At length, Dhowifa spoke.
"Are you hurt?"
Dzhenushkunutushen's face crunched. The ummun crunched their faces many different ways, but Nukurren thought this was the gesture of ruefulness.
"I hurt all over."
"Good," said Nukurren. "It will prepare you for tomorrow. Where you will hurt again, but will be wiser."
Again, the crunch. Slightly different.
"Some friend you are!"
Only her long years of shoroku kept Nukurren's mantle gray. For some time, she did not trust herself to speak. Dzhenushkunutushen rose and began to leave.
Softly, to his back, Nukurren said: "I have never had a friend. Except Dhowifa."
The demon stopped in the doorway. He turned around and came back to Nukurren's pallet. As always, she was struck by the strangeness of his colors, the white passion of his skin and the blue fury of his eyes.
"I have never known loneliness," he said. "I think you have never known anything else."
"That is true. Except Dhowifa." She felt her lover's soft touch.
Dzhenushkunutushen lay down on the floor next to the pallet. "Tonight I will sleep here, Nukurren. There are lessons which you need to learn also."
Soon, Dzhenushkunutushen fell asleep, as, shortly thereafter, did Dhowifa. Nukurren remained awake long into the night. Never once did her shoroku waver. But the time came when one of the great palps which had brought terror and death to so many over the years reached out. Reached out, and gently touched the soft yellow hair of the demon lying next to her.
Chapter 21
In the days after the shocking defeat which the huge new gukuy had delivered to Joseph and his lieutenants, Indira found herself, much against her natural inclination, visiting the training field. She said nothing to anyone, simply watched as the new arrival—Nukurren—began showing the human warriors the Utuku methods of combat.
On the second day of the new training regimen, Ushulubang arrived. She was accompanied by Dhowifa, riding in her mantle cavity, and a large number of Pilgrims. Indira immediately knew, by some subtlety in their bearing, that these Pilgrims were former warriors. They were carrying reed-bundles laden with unusually designed weapons, including shields. From descriptions she had heard, Indira realized that these were replicas of Utuku weapons. After a brief consultation between Ushulubang and Nukurren, the Pilgrims donned the Utuku armament and began acting as the mock opponent for the human platoons.
Ushulubang then came to Indira's side. With Ushulubang was one of the Pilgrim warriors, older than the others. Although Indira could not interpret specifically the clan carvings on her cowl (which had all the arcane intricacies of medieval heraldry), Indira was sure that this new gukuy was of some high-ranked Ansha clan.
Ushulubang immediately confirmed her guess.
"Inudira, this is Ghodha. She is a new Pilgrim. Until our flight from Shakutulubac, she was a high commander in the Ansha legions. She is the most experienced war leader amongst the Pilgrims."
Ghodha made the gesture of respect. More properly, since the gesture of respect was generic, she made that specific version of the gesture of respect which signified respect by a high subordinate of one realm toward the august ruler of another.
In return, Indira bowed. Her bow contained none of the subtleties of Ghodha's gesture, however. Indira had realized that the humans would have to develop appropriate gestures with which to respond to gukuy, and so she had instituted the bow. The bow given to gukuy as a gesture of respect, however, was different from the one given to the owoc at the time of feeding. Much shallower—closer to an exaggerated nod than a deep bow. And she had insisted that there be no gradations in the bow.
But, as she had known would happen, the gradations were creeping in regardless. And she had immediately noted the different gesture which Jens Knudsen was using toward Nukurren, and which was almost immediately adopted by the other human warriors. The fact that the gesture resembled, in its outward appearance, the humble hand-clasping of a medieval monk toward an abbot did not fool her for a moment.
Within a generation, she thought wearily, we'll be a proper bunch of samurai and mandarins.
"You are distressed, Inudira," commented Ushulubang. "May I ask why?"
Indira stared. She had already come to recognize that Ushulubang was easily the most intelligent person—human or gukuy—that Indira had ever met in her life. But she was still astonished by the old sage's uncanny ability to interpret subtle nuances of human body language.
"I—it is difficult to explain."
Ushulubang gestured toward the training field.
"Would it ease your spirit if we desisted from this action?"
Indira immediately shook her head. "No, no. You will be a big help for my—children. I should h
ave thought of it myself."
Then why didn't you? she asked herself. The idea was obvious.
But she knew the answer. Because I cannot bear the future I can see—no matter where I look.
"It is what will come of this that disturbs you," said Ushulubang.
Indira nodded.
"I believe I understand. Some day we must speak on this matter, Inudira."
Again, she nodded. But her nod contained, in some subtle way, the implication of hopeless resignation; and she knew the sage recognized it.
She tried to shake off the black mood.
"What is your opinion?" she asked the war leader Ghodha, pointing to the training field.
Ghodha hesitated.
"I would prefer to reserve my opinion, for the moment. I am not familiar with the tactical methods and abilities of dem—ummun."
Indira turned and gazed back onto the training field. By now, the human platoons were fully engaged in maneuvers with the Pilgrims. The Pilgrims were arrayed in a tightly knit formation. In essence, it was a phalanx. But Indira saw that the phalanx was much shallower in depth than the formations of the ancient Greeks and Macedonians. The difference, of course, was due to the weapons involved. The many-ranked phalanxes of Hellenic warriors had been designed to take advantage of the great reach of their long spears and pikes. The Utuku, using flails, were limited to a three-deep formation.
"Is that how the Utuku fight?" she asked Ghodha.
"Yes. It is very crude and primitive, and allows for no subtlety of maneuvers. But if the discipline is sufficient—and Utuku discipline is like bronze—then their—" Ghodha hesitated. "I do not know the Enagulishuc word. The Utuku call this formation a kabu buxt. We Ansha call it arrut kudh pakta."
Arrut kudh pakta. Indira made the translation. Crest of the shell, essentially.
"We call it a phalanx," she said.
"Falanuksh," repeated Ghodha. "With their great numbers, and discipline, the Utuku can be a terrible foe. Many armies have broken against them."
A long silence ensued. For the next four hours, Indira watched as the young human leaders, consulting frequently with Nukurren, began changing and adapting their tactics. They were fumbling, at first; grew more assured as time went by. But still, Indira knew, they were groping for answers.