‘Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,’ Aphrael said. ‘We’re inside the enemy city, and the longer we putter around, the more chance there is of being discovered. If it’s in any way possible, we want to free Ehlana and Alean tonight. I’ll send out word and start the others moving. Nobody’s going to get much sleep tonight, but that can’t be helped. All right then, Xanetia, let’s go look for water. The rest of you stay here. We don’t want to have to go looking for you when we come back.’
‘Are you mad, Gardas?’ Bergsten demanded of the massively armored Alcione knight. The Thalesian Patriarch refused to look at the pleasant-faced young man standing beside the knight. ‘I’m not even supposed to admit that he exists, much less sit down and talk with him.’
‘Aphrael said you might be tedious about this, Bergsten,’ the person Sir Gardas had escorted into the Patriarch’s tent noted. ‘Would it help at all if I did something miraculous?’
‘God!’ Bergsten said. ‘Please don’t do that! I’m probably in trouble already!’
‘Dolmant had some problems when I visited him, too,’ Aphrael’s cousin observed. ‘You servants of the Elene God have some strange ideas. He doesn’t get excited about us, so why should you? Anyway, the normal rules are all more or less suspended until this crisis is over. We’ve even enlisted Edaemus and the Atan God – and they haven’t spoken to any of the rest of us for eons. Aphrael wants me to tell you about something having to do with the soldiers Klæl brought with him. Somebody named Khalad has devised a means of destroying them.’
‘Tell Gardas about it,’ Bergsten suggested. ‘He can pass it on to me, and I won’t get into trouble.’
‘I’m sorry, Bergsten, but Aphrael insisted that I say it directly to you. Just pretend that I’m a dream or something.’ Setras’ face grew slightly puzzled, and his large, luminous eyes revealed a frightening lack of comprehension. ‘I don’t entirely understand this,’ he confessed. ‘Aphrael’s much cleverer than I am – but we love each other, so she doesn’t throw my stupidity into my face very often. She’s terribly polite. She’s even nice to your God, and he can be extremely tedious sometimes – where was I?’
‘Ah –’ Sir Gardas said gently, ‘you were going to tell his Grace about Klæl’s soldiers, Divine Setras.’
‘I was?’ The large eyes were blank. ‘Oh, yes. I was, wasn’t I? You mustn’t let me ramble on like that, Gardas. You know how easily I get distracted.’
‘Yes, Divine Setras. That had occurred to me.’
‘Anyway,’ Setras pushed on, ‘this Khalad person – a frightfully clever young man, I gather – realized that there might be some similarity between the awful stuff Klæl’s soldiers breathe and something he calls “firedamp”. Have you any idea at all of what he was talking about, Bergsten?’ Setras hesitated. ‘Am I supposed to call you “your Grace” the way Gardas did? Are you really that graceful? You look awfully large and clumsy to me.’
‘It’s a formal mode of address, Divine One,’ Sir Gardas explained.
‘Oh. We don’t have to be formal with each other, do we Bergsten? We’re almost old friends now, aren’t we?’
The Patriarch of Emsat swallowed very hard. Then he sighed. ‘Yes, Divine Setras,’ he said. I suppose we are. Why don’t you go ahead and tell me about this strategy Sparhawk’s squire has devised?’
‘Of course. Oh, there’s one other thing, too. We have to be at the gates of Cyrga by morning.’
‘Please, Atana Liatris,’ Baroness Melidere said patiently to Sarabian’s Atan wife, ‘we want them to make the attempt.’
‘It is too dangerous,’ Liatris said stubbornly. ‘If I go ahead and kill Chacole and Torellia, the others will run away and that will be the end of it.’
‘Except that we’ll never find out who else is involved,’ Patriarch Emban explained. ‘And we can’t know for certain that they won’t try again.’
Princess Danae sat a little apart from them with Mmrr curled up in her lap. Her vision was strangely doubled with one image superimposed on the other. It seemed that the dark streets of Cyrga lay just behind the others here in the sitting-room.
‘I’m touched by your concern, Liatris,’ Sarabian was saying, ‘but I’m not nearly as helpless as I seem.’ He flourished his rapier.
‘And we will have guards nearby,’ Foreign Minister Oscagne added. ‘Chacole and Torellia almost have to be getting help from somebody inside the government – some leftover from that coup-attempt, most likely.’
‘I will wring his identity from them before I kill them,’ Liatris declared.
Sarabian winced at the word ‘wring’.
‘We are near, Divine Aphrael.’ Xanetia’s voice seemed at once a long way away and very close. ‘Methinks I do smell water.’ The dark, narrow street they followed opened out into some kind of square a hundred feet further on.
‘Let’s catch them all, Liatris,’ Elysoun urged her sister-empress. ‘You might be able to beat one or two names out of Chacole and Torellia, but if we can catch the assassins in the actual attempt, we’ll be able to sweep the palace compound clean. If we don’t, our husband’s going to have to go through the rest of his life with a drawn rapier.’
‘Hark!’ Xanetia whispered in that other city. ‘I do hear the sound of running water.’
Danae concentrated very hard. It was exhausting to keep things separate.
‘I really hate to have to put it this way, Liatris,’ Sarabian said regretfully, ‘but I forbid you to kill either Chacole or Torellia. We’ll deal with them after their assassins try to kill me.’
‘As my husband commands,’ Liatris responded automatically.
‘What I want you to do is to protect Elysoun and Gahennas,’ he continued. ‘Gahennas is probably in the greater danger right now. Elysoun’s still useful to the people involved in this, but Gahennas knows more than they want her to. I’m sure they’ll try to kill her, so let’s get her out of the Women’s Palace tonight.’
‘It is beneath the street, Divine One,’ Xanetia said. ‘Methinks there is some volume of water passing under our feet.’
‘Truly,’ the Child Goddess replied. ‘Let’s follow the sound back to its source. There has to be some way to get to the water here in the outer city.’
‘How did you become involved in this, Elysoun?’ Liatris was asking.
Elysoun shrugged. ‘I have more freedom of movement than the rest of you,’ she replied. ‘Chacole needed somebody she trusted to carry messages out of the Women’s Palace. I pretended to fall in with her plan. It wasn’t too hard to deceive Chacole. She is a Cynesgan, after all.’
‘It is here, Divine One,’ Xanetia whispered, laying her hand on a large iron plate set into the cobblestones. ‘Thou canst feel the urgent rush of water through the very iron.’
‘I’ll take your word for it, Anarae,’ Aphrael replied, cringing back from the notion of touching iron. ‘How do they get it open?’
‘These rings do suggest that the plate can be lifted.’
‘Let’s go back and get the others. I think this might be the weakness Bevier was looking for.’
Danae yawned. Everything seemed to be under control, so she curled up in her chair, nestled Mmrr in her arms, and promptly fell asleep.
‘Couldn’t you have just – well –?’ Talen wiggled his fingers.
‘It’s iron, Talen,’ Flute said with exaggerated patience.
‘So? What’s that got to do with it?’
She shuddered. ‘I can’t bear the touch of iron.’
Bevier looked intently at her. ‘Bhelliom suffers from the same affliction,’ he observed.
‘Yes. So what?’
‘That would suggest a certain kinship.’
‘Your grasp of the obvious is positively dazzling, Bevier.’
‘Behave yourself,’ Sparhawk chided.
‘What’s so unpleasant about iron?’ Talen asked. ‘It’s cold, it’s hard, you can pound it into various shapes, and it gets rusty.’
‘That’s a nice scholarl
y description. Do you know what a lodestone is?’
‘It’s a piece of iron ore that sticks to other iron, isn’t it? I seem to remember Platime talking about something called magnetism once.’
‘And you actually listened? Amazing.’
‘That’s why Bhelliom had to congeal itself into a sapphire!’ Bevier exclaimed. ‘It’s the magnetism of iron, isn’t it? Bhelliom can’t bear it – and neither can you, isn’t that so?’
‘Please, Bevier,’ Aphrael said weakly. ‘Just thinking about it makes my flesh crawl. Right now we don’t want to talk about iron. We want to talk about water. There’s a stream or river of some kind running under the streets here in the outer city, and it’s flowing in the direction of the inner wall. There’s a large iron plate set in the middle of the street not far from here, and you can hear the water running beneath it. I think that’s the weakness you were looking for. The water’s running through a tunnel of some kind, and that tunnel goes under the wall of the inner fortress – at least I hope so. I’ll go find out as soon as you gentlemen lift off that iron plate for me.’
‘Did you see any patrols in the streets?’ Kalten asked.
‘Nay, Sir Knight,’ Xanetia replied. ‘Centuries of custom have clearly dulled the alertness of the Cynesgans responsible for the defense of the outer city.’
‘A burglar’s dream,’ Talen murmured. ‘I could get rich in this town.’
‘What would you steal?’ Aphrael asked him. ‘The Cyrgai don’t believe in gold and silver.’
‘What do they use for money?’
‘They don’t. They don’t need money. The Cynesgans provide them with everything they need, so they don’t even think about money.’
‘That’s monstrous!’
‘We can discuss economics some other time. Right now I want to investigate their water supply.’
* * *
‘You idiot!’ Queen Betuana raged at her general.
‘We had to find out, Betuana-Queen,’ Engessa explained. ‘And I will not send another where I will not go.’
‘I am most displeased with you, Engessa-Atan!’ Betuana’s retreat into ritualized mourning had vanished. ‘Did your last encounter with the Klæl-beasts teach you nothing? They could have been lurking just inside the cave, and you would have faced them alone again.’
‘It is not reasonable to suppose that they would have,’ he replied stiffly. ‘Aphrael’s messenger told us that the Klæl-beasts take shelter in caves that they might breathe a different air. The air at the entrance to this cave will be the same as the air outside. It is of no moment, however. It is done, and no harm came from it.’
She controlled her anger with an obvious effort. ‘And what did you prove by your foolish venture, Engessa-Atan?’
‘The Klæl-beasts have sealed the cave, Betuana-Queen,’ he replied. ‘Some hundred paces within stands a steel wall. It is reasonable to suppose that it may in some fashion be opened. The Klæl beasts retreat beyond the barrier, close it behind them and are then able to breathe freely for a time. Then they emerge again and attack us once more.’
‘Was this information worth the risk of your life?’
‘We have yet to discover that, my Queen. The tactics devised by Kring-Domi keep us out of the reach of the Klæl-beasts, but I do not like this running away.’
Betuana’s eyes hardened. ‘Nor do I,’ she conceded. ‘I dishonor my husband’s memory each time I turn and flee.’
‘Aphrael’s cousin told us that Khalad-squire had found that the air which the Klæl-beasts breathe will burn when it mixes with our air.’
‘I have not seen air burn before.’
‘Nor have I. If the trap that I have set for the Klæl-beasts works, we may both see it happen.’
‘What sort of trap, Engessa-Atan?’
‘A lantern, my Queen – well hidden.’
‘A lantern? That’s all?’
‘If Khalad-squire was right, it should be enough. I closed the lantern so that the Klæl-beasts will see no light when they open their steel door to come out again. All unseen, their air will join with ours, and the mix will find its way to the candle burning inside my lantern. Then we will discover if Khalad-squire was right.’
‘Then we must wait until they open that door. I will not leave them behind us until I know without any doubt that this burning of air will kill them. As Ulath-Knight says, only a fool leaves live enemies behind him.’
They concealed themselves behind an outcropping of rock and waited, intently watching the cave-mouth faintly visible in the light of the stars. ‘It may be some time before they open their door, my Queen,’ Engessa noted.
‘Engessa-Atan,’ Betuana said firmly, ‘I have long thought that this formality of yours is out of place. We are soldiers, and comrades. Please address me as such.’
‘As you wish, Betuana-Atana.’
They waited patiently, watching the sizeable peak and the dark mouth of the cave. Then, like a deep, subterranean thunder, a stunning sound shattered the silence, shaking the ground, and a great billow of boiling fire blasted out of the cave-mouth, searing the few scrubby thorn-bushes growing nearby. The fire spewed out of the cave for what seemed hours, and then it gradually subsided.
Engessa and his Queen, shocked by that violent eruption, could only stare in wonder. Finally, Betuana rose to her feet. ‘Now I have seen air burn,’ she noted in a cool sort of way. ‘It was worth the wait, I suppose.’ Then she smiled at her still-shaken comrade. ‘You lay good traps, Engessa-Atan, but now we must hurry to rejoin the Trolls. Ulath-Knight says that we must reach Cyrga by morning.’
‘Whatever you say, Betuana-Atan,’ he replied.
‘When I say, “lift”,’ Sparhawk instructed, settling his hands into place around the ring, ‘and don’t let it clank when we set it down. All right, lift.’
Kalten, Bevier, Mirtai, and Sparhawk all rose slowly, straining to lift the rusty iron plate up out of its place among the worn cobblestones.
‘Be careful,’ Talen said to Mirtai. ‘Don’t fall in.’
‘Do you want to do this?’ she asked.
The four of them shuffled around slightly and moved the ponderous weight to one side so that the large square hole was partially uncovered. ‘Set it down,’ Sparhawk said from between his clenched teeth. ‘Easy,’ he added.
They slowly lowered the cover to the stones.
‘It’d be easier to pick up a house,’ Kalten wheezed.
‘Turn your backs,’ Flute instructed.
‘Do you have to do that?’ Talen asked. ‘Is it like flying?’
‘Just turn around, Talen.’
‘Don’t forget the clothes,’ Sparhawk told her.
‘They’d just be in my way. If you don’t like it, don’t look.’ Her voice was already richer.
Bevier had his eyes tightly closed, and his lips were moving. He was obviously praying – very hard.
‘I’ll be right back,’ the Goddess promised. ‘Don’t go away.’
They waited for what seemed to be hours. Then they heard a faint splashing down below. The splashing was accompanied by muffled laughter.
Talen knelt at the edge of the rectangular shaft. ‘Are you all right?’ he whispered.
‘Im fine.’
‘What’s so funny?’
‘The Cyrgai. You wouldn’t believe how stupid they are.’
‘What did they do now?’
‘The water comes from a large artesian spring right near the outer wall. The Cyrgai built a sort of cistern around it. Then they built a tunnel that goes under the inner wall to carry water to a very large pool that lies underneath the mountain they’ve built their main city on.’
‘What’s wrong with that?’
‘Nothing – as far as it goes. They seem to have realized the same thing that Bevier did. Their water-source is a weakness. They very carefully built a stone lattice at the mouth of the tunnel. Nobody can get into the tunnel from the cistern.’
‘I still don’t see anything to laugh
about.’
‘I’m just coming to that. This shaft that leads down to the tunnel seems to have been added later – probably so that they could get into the tunnel to clean it.’
‘That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea. It is supposed to be drinking water, after all.’
‘Yes, but when they dug the shaft, they forgot something. The other end of the tunnel – the one that’s inside their second wall – is completely open. There aren’t any bars, no lattice, no chains, nothing.’
‘You’re not serious!’
‘May muh tongue turn green iff’n I ain’t.’
‘This is going to be easier than I thought,’ Kalten said. He leaned over and peered down into the darkness. ‘Is that current very swift?’ he called down softly.
‘Swift enough,’ Aphrael replied. ‘But that’s all right. It speeds you right straight through, so you won’t have to hold your breath so long.’
‘Do what?’ His voice was choked.
‘Hold your breath. You have to swim under water.’
‘Not me,’ he said flatly.
‘You do know how to swim, don’t you?’
‘I can swim in full armor if I have to.’
‘What’s the problem, then?’
‘I don’t swim under water. It sends me into a panic.’
‘He’s right, Aphrael,’ Sparhawk called down softly. ‘As soon as Kalten’s head goes under water, he starts screaming.’
‘He can’t do that. He’ll drown.’
‘Exactly. I used to have to stand on his chest to squeeze the water out of him. It happened all the time when we were boys.’
‘Oh, dear,’ she said. ‘I hadn’t counted on this.’
Chapter 29
The moon was almost full, and it stained the eastern horizon before it rose in a pallid imitation of dawn. It slid slowly into view, rising ponderously above the brittle white salt-flats.
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