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JANISSARIES

Text copyright c 1979 by Jerry Pournelle

Illustrations copyright C 1979 by Bermejo

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review, without permission in writing from the publisher.

All characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

An ACE Book

Cover art by Enrich

First Ace printing: June 1979

Printed in U.S.A.


CONTENTS

Part One: The Mercenaries 6
Part Two: The Ship 66
Part Three: Tylara 109
Part Four: The Crossroads 153
Part Five: Tamaerthon 181
Part Six: War Leader 206
Part Seven: Scholars 254
Part Eight: Janissaries 290
Epilogue 333


PART ONE:
THE
MERCENARIES


1


The mortar fire was nearer.
Rick Galloway heard the sharp crump! of at least five mortars. Then there was silence for a moment. It was just twilight, and twilight does not last in the tropics. Night came fast, and with it the sound of the African tropic highlands: birds, crickets, unidentifiable creatures calling each other in the sudden dark. A warm breeze rustled the dry grass on the hilltop.
There was a rattle of distant machine-gun fire. It sounded much too close.
"I think the roadblock has gone," Lieutenant Parsons said. His voice was surprisingly calm. "They will be here within the hour."
"Yeah." Captain Galloway swept his night glasses along the southern slope of the hill, down toward the crossroad where he had left Major Hendrix with the wounded. There was nothing to see. He turned carefully, letting the glasses sweep the perimeter of the hill that for the moment was his entire world. He saw nothing at all except the tiny remnant of his command. The men were digging in and had done a good job with the little they had.
"Where the hell are those choppers?" Galloway demanded. He felt sweat drip from his forehead despite the cooling breeze that sprang up after sundown. "Elliot."
"Sir." Sergeant Elliot was at the other end of the trench where Galloway stood. The trench had not been bunkered, but there was no time to construct better defenses for the command post.
"Can't you raise headquarters?" Galloway demanded.
"No, sir. Warner's trying." The big sergeant turned back to the radio.
"Perhaps we should let the men run for it," Parsons suggested. "Some may escape."