by Ian Irvine
Nish came up beside her, rubbing his eyes.
She wanted to throw her arms around him and squeeze him against her, but Irisis restrained herself to an affectionate pat on the shoulder. She could wait- How's your head?'
Better. What happened? I don't remember going to sleep.
Have I slept all day?'
She laughed with relief. 'You fell down and smacked your head against the stern post, just after we rescued you.’
He glanced that way. 'How could that happen?' Nish went pale. 'The rotor —’
'The air-floater was going up steeply. You slid backwards under it and whacked into the post.'
'I knocked myself out?'
'You've been asleep for two and a half days.'
He ran a hand through his thick hair and winced. 'That explains the hollow in my belly.'
'Can I get you something to eat? It's only stew, I'm afraid, and days old.'
'Stew!' he exclaimed.
She mistook his meaning. 'I'm sorry, but bloody old Flydd —’
'Where is it? Quick!' He took her by the hand.
'Down here. Look, we've a little galley.' She led the way out of the cabin to a tiny room behind it, so small that she could touch all four walls with her outstretched arms. 'And we can't cook anything here, of course, because of the floater gas, so it's cold I'm afraid …'
Nish pushed past her, snatched a ladle off its hook and took a scoop out of the pot. Slurping down a mouthful, he gasped, 'That's goood!'
'You've got soup all over your face' said Irisis, wiping his cheek with her hand. They'd not spent time together since he'd left the manufactory in the balloon, last winter. She'd missed him terribly.
'I'm so hungry I could go into the pot head-first, and not come out until I'd licked it shiny clean.'
'It's not that good,' she said.
'Do you know what our last meal on the island was?'
'Fish? Mussels? Bird's eggs?'
'There weren't any edible shellfish and I don't recommend barnacles. In nine days we didn't catch a single fish. There's nothing to eat down there — no snakes, no lizards, no eggs. Not even an earthworm.'
'How did you survive?'
'Seaweed and belt soup.'
'What's belt soup?'
'We cut my belt into strips and boiled it for about ten hours. It still tasted like boiled leather. Next we were going to eat Flydd's stinking old boots, and if you think I was looking forward to that —’
'I get the picture,' she said hastily. And it explained why Flydd had been so irritable, if he'd been close to starvation.
Irisis watched Nish while he ate, thinking how changed he was from the young man she'd seen off in the balloon, and even from the Nish she'd encountered briefly at the Aachim camp, before the battle of Snizort.
'It's so good to see you, Nish. So good.' Impulsively, she embraced him.
He set down the ladle before it dribbled down her back, and wiped his mouth. And you, Irisis. I feel as though I've lived an entire life since I left the manufactory. And, from what the scrutator told me, you've been just as busy.' Nish pulled away, inspecting her. 'You look …'
'What?' she prompted after a long pause. 'Old? Haggard? Ugly?'
'You look the same, though …There seems to be more of you 'Well, thank you very much,' she said in mock outrage. Actually —’
'I meant as a person. You look more confident, even stronger than you were, and .., at peace with yourself 'If you only knew!' she exclaimed. And yet, in a way, I have found peace. Life has never been more insecure, I'm an outlaw under sentence of death, the scrutators will probably execute me in some hideous way, and yet — Oh, Nish!' She threw her arms around him again. 'I've got my long-lost talent back. I'm not a fraud any more. I feel almost happy'.
You never were a fraud to me, Irisis.'
'But I was in my own eyes.' After a moment's reflection she said, 'So how are you? You've changed. Nish. You're not the man who left us, last winter.'
'The boy', he said scornfully. 'I was no man. Yes, I have changed. I've seen enough adventure for a dozen lifetimes.'
'It's done you good.' She looked him up and down. 'You're a handsome man now. I like your beard.'
'It's better than scraping the skin off my face every morning.' He eyed her. 'I do believe you look more magnificent than ever. You seem to have bloomed.'
'I had a new lover for a while, Nish, no less than the scrutator himself, though it's over now.' She hadn't told Flydd yet. She hoped he'd take it well.
'I thought there was something between you, back when Flydd came to negotiate with Vithis. What else have you been up to?'
'Oh, I've had a few adventures too. A couple of run-ins with your father. A spell down in the tar pits of Snizort. You know the sort of thing.'
He leaned on the wall, companionably. 'It's a wonder we didn't run into each other. Why don't you tell me about it?'
'I'd rather hear your story, Nish, if you don't mind.'
He was happy to relate it, sitting on the port side, towards the stern, out of the wind, with Irisis facing him. She listened in silence until he mentioned Ullii being pregnant with his child.
'You didn't know!' she said incredulously.
'No one told me, and she was wearing a smock like a tent. How was I to tell? Nonetheless, I let her down, and now I'm paying for it.'
He went on with his story: the attack in the clearing, how his folly had brought down the air-floater, the ghastly death of Mylii, Ullii fleeing and not being seen again, and all the anguish that had caused him.
She knew he was telling the whole truth. Irisis took his hand, glad she'd held off from saying how she really felt — he was in no state to hear it. Her suit was going to be longer than she'd expected, and she'd have to be more careful. Not Ullii! she thought. No woman could be more wrong for him. Surely it could never come to pass?
She bit down on the jealousy. 'How you must have suffered.'
'It cost me dear — not least the child I'll never know. That's the hardest thing of all.'
'There's been no word of Ullii?'
'It's as if she vanished off the face of Lauralin. And she hates me, Irisis, though it was just a terrible accident. It was dark; I thought he was attacking her. He just reared back onto the knife and it went right into him.' He choked.
She drew him to her, folding her long arms around his compact, muscled body. 'You don't have to justify yourself to me,' she said softly.
'But I do have to live with it. Ah, Irisis, how I've missed you.'
'Do you want to tell me the rest of the story?'
'Maybe later. Where are we, anyway?'
'Heading up the western side of Meldorin Island.'
'Meldorin!' he cried, looking over the side as if to see lyrinx everywhere. 'Where are we going?'
'No idea. Bloody Flydd is acting all mysterious, as usual.'
The sun went down into the ocean to their left, and the evening light faded swiftly, though before it grew completely dark they beheld the walls of a great fortress in the distance. Black it was, even blacker than the shadowy forest that surrounded it, a forbidding wall of stone encircling a yard, and an inner fortress with horned towers.
'Is that our destination?' Nish asked Flydd, who was walking by.
'It is.' Flydd cast him an unreadable glance. 'Dragged yourself out of bed at last, I see.'
Nish didn't rise to the bait. He was used to Flydd's ways by now, and the tone had been almost affectionate. 'It's not a lyrinx fortress?'
'It belongs to an older power.' Flydd continued down to Inouye. 'Go over the outer wall, Inouye, and come down in the yard by the horned tower. See it there?'
'I see it.' Her voice was like a single page falling to the ground.
The air-floater passed over the wall. No guards could be seen, so Inouye settled the machine in the bleak yard. It came to rest without a bump. The rotor slowly spun down, the floater-gas generator fell silent.
Again that shiver up Irisis's spine.
&
nbsp; 'I don't like this place. Where are we?'
'We're in the one place in Meldorin that the scrutators will never find us. Not even the lyrinx dare come here. This is the ancient Aachim fortress of Fiz Gorge.’
Somewhere within the fortress an alarm clanged, like a broken bell.
Forty-five
'Fiz Gorgo!' cried Nish. 'Wasn't that the fortress of the great mancer Yggur, back in the time of the Tale of the Mirror?'
'It was,' said Flydd, and Irisis could hear him cracking his knuckles anxiously.
'Who controls it now?'
'We're about to find out. Climb up on top of the cabin, Nish, and tear open that patch on the airbag.'
'What?' he cried.
'Just do it, and be quick; Flydd hissed, 'or the enemy will breakfast on your kidneys.'
Irisis wondered if the scrutator had gone mad. So, evidently, did Nish, but he did what he was told, then sprang down again. Floater gas sighed from the gash and slowly the balloon sagged until, in a few minutes, the structure of its wire ribs could be seen. Gravel crunched under the keel as the cabin tilted onto its side.
Nish began to climb over the rail. 'Stay where you are,' Flydd said quietly.
They waited. All was silent. No bird sang, no cricket chirped. Not a single leaf rustled.
Irisis's nape prickled. 'Someone's watching us,' she said under her breath, without knowing how she knew it.
'Be quiet.'
Her eyes were drawn up the tower, all the way to the horns on each extremity. No, not there. She followed the rough stone down to a point a little more than halfway from the ground. A balcony projected straight out, a shaped slab of stone without roof or rail. Someone stood there, or something, but she could not see what it was.
A lamp or glowing globe on the wall came on, outlining the figure from behind. It was very tall, and man-shaped, but concealed by a greatcoat that swept to the floor. The figure stepped to the edge.
'Begone, whoever you are, back to where you came from. Visitors are not welcome here.' It was human, a man with a mellow, carrying voice that bore more than an underlying hint of steel. This man was master and no argument, Irisis sensed, would sway him.
'I am Xervish Flydd, surr,' the scrutator called up, respectfully. 'Scrutator for Einunar —’
'Then you've a long journey home, Scrutator Flydd. Begin it at once. You are not welcome in Fiz Gorgo.'
'I would, surr, but as you can see, our air-floater floats no more and cannot be repaired today. I beg your indulgence until the morning.'
The man shifted his weight. 'I am bereft of indulgence and every other form of human weakness,' he said coldly. 'Take your abominable machine and begone!'
'It can't be moved, surr, within twenty-four hours. We'll go if we must, but the machine must stay where it lies. If you would care to inspect it…'
The figure whirled, the light went out and a door slammed.
'Don't say a word, unless he speaks directly to you,' Flydd said over his shoulder. 'If he does, confine your answers to yes or no. Venture no explanations.'
Before them, up a few steps from the base of the tower, stood a set of doors so vast that the cabin of the air-floater could have fitted between. The doors opened silently and a blinding light shone through them, revealing that the yard was paved in black stone. There was no living thing in sight. Not a single weed grew inside the walls.
The man appeared, greatcoat flapping. Illuminated from behind, he looked twice the size of any normal man. He strode through the door and came down the broad steps to the air-floater.
'Get out!'
They scrambled over the side, to congregate at the base of the steps. As he turned to inspect the machine, the light fell full on him. He was no giant, but tall and well proportioned -broad in the chest, slim hipped and with long, muscular legs. He had a long, weathered face, frost-grey eyes and dark hair, worn long, that was streaked with silver at the temples. He wore a grey shirt, grey trousers and pale grey boots. His greatcoat was as black as the flagstones.
Climbing onto the sloping deck, he inspected the structure, the controller, the torn airbag and, last of all, the floater-gas generator. As he climbed down, Irisis noted that he moved stiffly, as if an old injury troubled him.
'Very well,' he said. 'You may stay until the morning. At first light you will repair your contraption and remove yourselves.' He went up the steps, turning before he went through the entrance. 'Bring that device to me.' He pointed to the floater-gas generator.
'At once,' said Flydd, motioning to Irisis and Flangers. 'Would you like to see the controller too?'
'I am familiar with its type,' said the man, and disappeared through the doorway.
They gathered their gear. 'You'd better bring the contents of the larder,' said Flydd. 'He doesn't seem a very hospitable fellow.'
Muss collected the food, including the great haunch of venison. Nish and Flangers carried the floater-gas generator, and little Inouye came behind with her controller. It was her lover, her friend, her family, and the bond with it was the only thing that kept her going.
Irisis picked up her bag and followed. Fiz Gorgo was a grim place, strongly built but undecorated. There were no tapestries on the walls, no rugs in the hall. What furniture it had was of the plainest construction. The hall was high and wide, the rooms large, square and barren of ornament save for time-worn patterns etched into the stone. And it was quite as cold as the manufactory where she had spent her working life.
Halfway down the long hall, the man stood by an open door. 'You may stay here. There is a stove. Water may be drawn from the small cistern out by your infernal contraption. Good evening!' He nodded formally.
They filed past, Irisis last, which gave her the chance to gain a better look at the fellow. He appeared to be in hale middle age.
He caught her gaze and turned, inspecting her from head to toe. Irisis was a tall woman but he was almost a head taller. She looked him boldly in the eye as she went past and knew that his gaze lingered. There was a strange, almost wistful look in his eye. Then he was gone.
Flydd chuckled. 'You'll do no good with that one.'
'I have no intention of doing good, as you so charmingly put it.' she said frostily.
'Who is he?' said Muss, who had been silent for a long time.
'Oh, come now,' said Flydd. 'You're telling me that you, my best spy, don't know?'
Muss looked vexed. 'I've not done any work across the sea.'
'Surely you know your Histories, man?'
'But…'
Nish spoke from behind. 'He, surely, is Lord Yggur, a great mancer who comes into several tales, including the Tale of the Mirror. I thought he was dead long ago.'
'So did everyone,' said Flydd. 'He disappeared at the end of that tale, some two hundred years ago, and has not been seen since. Everyone thought he was dead. Well, almost everyone.'
'Why did he come back to this miserable place?' said Irisis. 'He might have dwelt anywhere on Santhenar.'
'I dare say he likes it here,' Flydd remarked. 'But who knows where he has been? For all we know he could have travelled seven times around the known world, and the unknown. In his day, he had the best —’
'A day long past,' said Nish. 'As I recall it, his courage failed him in the Tale of the Mirror.'
'I'd watch my tongue if I were you,' Flydd said coldly. 'He may be listening to our every word. Besides, he was a great man once, and deserves your respect.'
Nish glanced around uncomfortably.
Irisis packed kindling into the stove, shrugging Fiz Gorgo and Lord Yggur away. 'I've been looking forward to this dinner for a long time.'
She had been thinking and dreaming about food for weeks. Among her many skills Irisis was a brilliant cook, and in times past she'd cooked for herself, and friends, when she could no longer bear the muck provided by the manufactory. Since leaving there last spring she'd had few meals worth thinking about, and most of those had been with Flydd in Gospett. In the past month the food had been
horrible, and there had been little enough of it. In Jibstorn she had spent a fortune buying the best of everything. Tonight was going to be a meal to remember.
'How much longer are you planning to torment us?' said Nish, several hours later. The smells arising from the stove were glorious. Even Flangers, deeply withdrawn since she'd forced him to remit his life to her, had a gleam in his eye.
Irisis smiled inwardly. Food always served, if there'd been lack of it for long enough. 'Not long now. Why don't you set up the trestle?'
By the time that was done, dinner was ready. She gave one of her sauces a gentle stir. A shadow drifted down the hall, hesitated for a second outside the door, then went on. A minute later it came past again, glanced across to the stove and continued. Irisis pretended not to notice.
She served up the platters, and no one seemed to notice that an extra one contained some of the choicest portions. While everyone was sitting down, she took up the platter and slipped out the door. Irisis could not have said why, only that she was curious about the master of Fiz Gorgo.
It did not take long to find him, for Yggur sat at a big table in a room at the far end of the hall. He was reading and did not look up as she approached. The floater-gas generator sat on the table beside him, in pieces. There was a faint smell of liquorice in the air, and several slices of peeled root on a dish.
Irisis stood in front of the table, feeling more than a little foolish.
'What do you want?' he growled, still with his head in the book.
'I thought you might be hungry, Lord Yggur.'
At the sound of her voice his head snapped up and the book fell shut. 'Ah, the artisan,' he said. 'I am no lord, and outside this place I don't go by the name Yggur. The past is dead and I prefer it to stay that way.'
'You called me artisan. How do you know me, surr?'
'"He may be listening to our every word,"' he quoted. 'I know everything that goes on in my own realm. I presume your scrutator has sent you to cozen me?'
Irisis blushed, which she found embarrassing. 'Since you've overheard everything we said, surr, you would know I'm going against his direct orders. It's just that, well, you were so kind as to provide us with a roof for the night, and I wished to repay you in what small way I could.'