Grand Vizier of Krar

by W. John Tucker

  To some people, including Prime Minister Binpin, Carl seemed to be a pompous, egotistical fop, albeit a very tall and princely looking one. However, despite his flawless face, Carl had many hidden scars to testify to his battle experience, most of it as a commander under crisis conditions. He had foreseen Black Knight’s strategy. He had correctly guessed that Black Knight would not mount a serious attack on the city until his terrestrial armies had arrived. So Carl left minimal defences on Inner Wall, evacuated Township Farms, and concentrated all his spare resources to defend River Docks and its link to the city along Outer Wall.

  The enemy’s northern and central armies moved on without serious opposition; just a few guerrilla attacks to lead them on. The southern army had just moved out of the immediate reach of the others when they were confronted by twenty thousand Free Alliance cavalry who suddenly appeared above the morning mist that swathed the ground beyond the beach.

  For those enthralled by grand military manoeuvres, the scene was spectacular. Fifteen thousand horsemen with long lances, three thousand archers mounted on camels and a thousand elephants each with a rider and bomb thrower suddenly appeared on the crest of a low ridge just two stadia ahead of the southern army’s vanguard. The Free Alliance cavalry for once matched the enemy in numbers and had the advantage of being mounted. Their colourful banners spoke of the multitude of different nations which had contributed to this force. Many of the mounted knights were from lands which had already been overrun by the enemy and were keen to exact revenge for their fallen comrades, enslaved loved ones and burnt homes.

  At a single trumpet call the whole cavalry sprang forward into a full charge. The enemy spies had failed to notice the covert gathering of this force. The invaders were unprepared for such an attack. They had no cavalry and were encumbered by parts and equipment for the building of siege engines.

  The enemy lines quickly broke as the soldiers fled back to the beach, alone or in groups, leaving much of their equipment behind. Massive losses were suffered before their commanders had sufficiently drawn them together to form defensive phalanxes against the cavalry attack.

  The defenders destroyed a quarter of the enemy’s southern army before returning to River Docks. On Carl’s instruction, they broke off their attack before they came within reach of the quimal catapults and before any counterattack could be mounted. Their purpose had been achieved without loss of life on their own side. The enemy’s strategy had been disrupted and morale undermined. That was enough. Carl could not afford to lose any of his shock troops on a speculative enemy deployment; they would be needed later to defend the city.

  The result of the battle was that the three enemy armies had to join up again earlier than planned. They knew now that they had to keep together. Smaller forces could not be sent beyond the range of their naval catapults lest they be picked off by Free Alliance cavalry. Their attempt at deception having failed, the invaders settled down to their key objective which was to storm River Docks, supported by a simultaneous naval attack.

  As for Carl, he would not have to deplete his forces at River Docks to defend Outer Wall, yet he could still use it as a highway for messengers and reinforcements. That was the best he could ask for.

  So far, things had gone well for Carl. However, he could not risk his cavalry in open battle against the remaining sixty-five thousand enemy troops. He might have defeated them, but at what cost? There were long-term needs to be considered, not least his responsibility for the lives of the soldiers entrusted to his command. The situation was dire. Vast enemy armies were advancing from the north and from the east. His navy could harass the enemy, yet it was too small to defeat them. Messages from Proequa and Quolow had ceased, so he knew nothing more of their situation or, if they were still free, their plans. The situation was the same for his other southern allies, and his northern allies had already been overrun.

  Despite the enemy’s setback during the day, they had been well prepared and their commanders had been efficient. By nightfall, they were digging trenches and setting up catapults opposite First Fort at River Docks. By midnight they were firing burning missiles over the walls. The battle had resumed.

  96

  Belspire – 19th November

  The enemy soldiers had broken through into the library at noon yesterday, as Pel had predicted. There had been a lot of “oo” and “ah” as soldiers marvelled at the cavity hidden beneath what they had previously thought was just a hill. They had moved around the upper chamber looking for signs of Blancapaw and Memwin, for they had now received instructions from the highest level to look for the young woman and little girl as a top priority. Pretsan, Pelembras and other companions of Blancapaw, if spotted, were to be followed to see if they led to the two priority targets. Failing that, they were to be captured and tortured for information.

  Blan was relieved to see that the soldiers had at first failed to notice anything of consequence to them. However, by dawn, her relief had turned to concern when the soldiers were replaced by thirty civilians who started a systematic search. She guessed that the white bearded man in command was an Earth Wizard, probably the one in charge of operating a nearby Geode and in direct contact with Black Knight.

  She tried to calm her nerves, ignore the Earth Wizard’s team above and concentrate on the Control Processor. Since she had been allowed ‘limited access’, she had made some progress communicating with it. However, it was far more complicated than the Actios. After spending half the previous day and more than half the night (between short naps, each broken as some new idea or tactic sprang to mind) trying out various ways of dealing with the device, she had not yet managed to communicate with any of the Actios held by her friends. Her most cherished victory so far had been to get the device to compromise its seemingly limitless capacity for long names and descriptions and to accept the name ‘Control’ for itself, ‘Blan’ for her, ‘Actio’, and several other abbreviations.

  “Memwin, I’m thinking that Control has been created by the intellectually superior Vanantii and that the Chanangii only came to operate it at a limited level.”

  Blan found that speaking her thoughts to Memwin somehow made it easier to focus her tired mind, like someone nodding off in a comfortable chair suddenly jolting to attention. Memwin was sitting on top of Control, watching and listening yet not trying too hard to strain her own tired mind by trying to make sense of it all.

  Blan continued, “I think the Geodes were an early attempt by the Chanangii to put into practice the raw principles of Vanantii technology. Their chief need at that time was to draw energy from the earth for their survival and then to distribute that energy to their colonies around the world. That was probably the main purpose of the Communicors. But the Actios were a much later phase when the Chanangii had almost, but not quite, succeeded in their goal of replicating Vanantii designs. Their chief purpose then was to escape from Earth and find friendly beings far away among the stars and planets.”

  “Why would they want to leave Earth?” Memwin asked.

  “Earth suits us, but the Chanangii might have preferred other planets where things were more to their liking and where they had more friends.”

  “What were humans doing all this time?” Memwin asked.

  “They must have been going about their lives somewhere,” Blan said. “When I introduced myself to it, Control already knew that I was a human and it knew something about human bodies,” she did not mention that Control had diagnosed that she was pregnant, “so it must have studied some of our ancestors, probably before the Vanantii fell ill and died, unless the Chanangii knew more about operating Control than I think they did.”

  At that moment Memwin gasped. Blan followed her gaze to the roof where the Earth Wizard and two of his staff had gathered around the closed door and were working feverishly with spirit levels. Another, younger, Earth Wizard arrived there with another two assistants.

  “Are the two with funny hats wizards?” Memwin wondered, a doubtful expression on her face.<
br />
  “I guess they are the enemy’s geoscientists in residence. They have probably read the same fairy stories that we have and have modelled themselves on mythical wizards to awe the more ignorant among the soldiers and to give colour to their pompous job title.” Blan could not stop herself from letting a little scorn into her words. She felt that science and logic should be for everyone and should be explained clearly to those who would listen. She did not like the idea of scientists giving themselves airs so as to mislead or confuse others. When she had been Memwin’s age she had been happy to ‘believe’ in wizards and other mythical creatures for the purposes of enjoying the story and to stimulate her imagination, but she had always been able to separate that imaginary world from the real world in which she lived. She guessed that Memwin was the same.

  “They won’t need magic if they find out how to open that door; but we will,” Memwin remarked sombrely.

  “Then let’s try some Vanantii magic,” Blan said as an idea came to her. She knelt down on Control and placed her hands flat on its surface, an action which helped her focus her mind rather than one necessary for her to connect with the device.

  “Control, evil humans have come to the upper chamber to enslave Memwin and Blan. Please protect us?” Blan said this aloud for Memwin’s benefit.

  “Access denied to humans except Blan and Memwin and their guests.”

  It was as simple as that.

  “Thank you.” Blan knew it was illogical to thank a machine which did not have emotions of its own. However, she felt grateful and being polite made her feel better.

  “Control will not let the enemy enter here,” Blan reassured Memwin.

  “Good, but we need to get rid of them before Pel returns,” Memwin maintained.

  “He’s not due back for another six days, so let’s hope that the Earth Wizards and their lackeys have all become bored and gone away by then.”

  “What if the enemy decide that the library is a nice place to set up camp?” Memwin protested.

  “The thought had occurred to me. When the army moves to the coast, they will still leave troops here to control the area. When the mountain winds become colder they might want to move their camp under the dome. Let’s hope we are gone before then. Meanwhile, we must give our full attention to the challenges of today and worry about tomorrow’s challenges tomorrow.” Blan smiled reassuringly at Memwin. Nevertheless, despite her promise to stick to the immediate problems, she kept in mind how she might deal with an influx of soldiers into the library.

  97

  Blan was torn between the needs of the war, namely what her allies and enemies were doing, and what she considered to be her selfish interests, namely where Telko’s body was and how long she had been pregnant. She was instinctively aware that all these matters ran together in the tide of events, but her logical mind sought to distinguish between her objective motives, to help the war effort, and her emotional motives, to find her own peace of mind.

  The ease with which she had succeeded in getting Control to agree to lock the door against the Earth Wizards emboldened her to try again to get the device to communicate with the Actios. She had managed to glean that Control was aware of Actio B, as she called the device she had found nearby, probably as a result of their direct physical contact. However, her first big breakthrough came an hour before noon when Actio B woke up and linked to Control. That was when Blan discovered that Actio B had last been in contact with Charzagg, the last of the Chanangii, presumably the fellow whose skeleton Blan had already met.

  By mid-afternoon Blan made contact with Praalis. He had been bent over Actio 8, wracked with anxiety and feeling every bit his age (if that were possible for someone of six score years). The relief and joy that Praalis felt when he heard Blan’s voice in his mind could not be described. He quickly realised that the details he heard of her exploits could only mean that he was communicating with her in reality; he was not merely engaged in a wishful dream.

  Praalis was desperate for news, especially about Blan herself. He had heard nothing from her for sixteen days, and the only news that had yet reached him from Arnapa and the others had been sent before that. He had guessed that Memwin had gone off to search for Blan, but he had heard nothing more of her fate. Everyone in Proequa was anxious and mortified about Memwin’s flight from the citadel.

  They conversed for an hour. Blan glossed over her worst ordeals. Clearly there were private matters which haunted her and which she yearned to tell him, but Praalis realised that she was not ready to do so yet, so he bided his time and spoke mostly of events concerning the war.

  “I spent many days studying in Belspire Library and never guessed that it might be the mother ship of the Vanantii,” Praalis conceded, proud that his granddaughter had exceeded his own wit and effort by making such a discovery. “If I am spared the time, I should like to see it again.”

  “If only I could bring it to you, gra. Pel says that its shape has been distorted. If we could fix that and learn how to use Control, we might just soar through the air like an eagle.”

  “Perhaps in years to come you might do that,” Praalis laughed, feeling again the pang of youthful aspiration. “I presume ‘Control’ is the device that runs the sky ship, and ‘Pel’ is Pelembras.”

  Blan then described Control and its four servant devices. She told Praalis about the information plates that Memwin had found. She also told him about Actio B, and she described Charzagg’s skeleton.

  “You have so much to do and to think about, Blan. It seems so overwhelming. I am sure that you of all people have the intelligence and wisdom to master it in due course. You will be the bright star that my father, Pelundlis, wished for in his last minutes.”

  “Thank you, gra, but don’t forget Memwin.”

  “I have not forgotten Memwin,” said Praalis. “She has shown the true spirit of the Kings of Krar. Nothing could be more perfect to me than for the Monarch and Grand Vizier to work together as they used to of old, to revive the Council and the Constitution, and to bring peace and prosperity again.”

  After a tearful farewell to Praalis, Blan managed to contact respectively, Azimath, Crowmar (via Penna who was in charge of Actio 19 at the time) and Nightsight. All had been anxious since she had lost contact sixteen days ago and all were overjoyed to hear that she and Memwin were free if not safe.

  Azimath and Nightsight had both tracked the movement of the most active Geode from south of Austra Great Harbour to the mouth of Southport River, suggesting that Black Knight had probably arrived at the latter yesterday. Little news had come out of Port Fandabbin recently. Many important signal beacons had been captured or destroyed as the enemy had advanced.

  Blan promised them all that she would report back to them before the end of the day with any more information she could gather through Control.

  Whilst only Praalis understood what Control was, the others were no longer surprised by Blan’s activities. For now, they assumed that she had reactivated Actio 28, or perhaps she had found some other ingenious means of communication.

  98

  Lake Quolow – 19th November

  “General Utukin, a gift from the centurion corps of the east camp.” The centurion was standing to attention at the entrance to the general’s private tent. In his hands he held an object the size of a casserole dish, wrapped in cloth.

  “Let me see it,” Utukin said in a neutral voice. He did not approve of this sort of gift giving. East camp’s general had just been relieved of his command and sent home on leave without adequate explanation. The message from Black Knight’s flagship had merely stated that the full circumstances would be explained in due course. The centurion corps had obviously looted their general’s effects and decided to curry favour with Utukin by sending him more unwanted spoils of war.

  “There was also a roll of glassy film but it was lost in the lake as it was being brought across,” the centurion reported as he removed the cloth to reveal something that looked like the sort of stone some
peoples used for religious rites.

  Utukin’s first instinct was to tell the centurion to put it with the Prize Collection, essentially loot from which distributions would be made from time to time to soldiers who had excelled in battle or had succeeded in some other worthy venture. However, when he looked more closely at the stone he was intrigued by it, so he said, “Leave it here on my table. I will decide what to do with it later. The other thing, the glassy roll, how was it lost?”

  “The man assigned to bring it unrolled it to see what it was. Apparently it became exceedingly hot in the sun. He stupidly tried to roll it up again and consequently burnt his hand and set fire to the sails. In the ensuing confusion, the roll slipped overboard and floated away toward Quolow.”

  “You have punished the man?” Utukin could not help from laughing.

  “We were waiting for your orders, General Utukin.”

  “Let the matter rest. It sounds as though the man did me a favour. I don’t want something that will burn my tent down at night,” he laughed.

  When the centurion had departed, Utukin called his batman.

  “Securely package that decorative rock and have it sent via Port Cankrar to my house in Krarisca with orders that it be placed in the centre of the mantelpiece in the southern chamber of my private apartment.”

  “I shall do it immediately, General.”

  The shape and texture of Actio 28 caught the general’s attention, so he decided to keep it for himself, at least until he had thought what to do with it. He had no idea that it was anything other than a decorative rock. He forgot all about it within minutes as he turned his attention back to the siege of Quolow.

  99

  Southport River – 16th to 22nd November

  With the river current in their favour, the six canoeists made good progress downstream. They travelled at the edge of the main channel all through the nights and for much of the daylight hours, diverting into the riverside marshes and swamps only to bypass ports or avoid enemy craft. During the day they kept well apart so lookouts in approaching boats would only see one canoe before all three disappeared into the marshes. They had been spotted twice, but the enemy thought they were merely unauthorised fishermen and did not bother to chase them too far through the swamps.