Scorpio Triumph [Dray Prescot #43]

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Scorpio Triumph [Dray Prescot #43] Page 17

by Alan Burt Akers


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  * * *

  Chapter nineteen

  “So it is Lahal and Remberee in a breath.” Rees's lion voice rang hard.

  “I'm wondering,” observed Chido, “if the weather's improved along the Ice Floes of Sicce at this time of year.”

  “We must,” said Rees, staggering slightly as the voller plummeted, “have a last toast.” He crossed to a side locker and gripped onto the gunwale. As he pulled out a flagon and goblets I looked up at the circling Vallian fliers. She was up there, all I ever really wanted. I'd not deserved her, of course not. One of the vollers detached itself from the squadron and plunged vertically shooting down under power faster than us in free fall. Oh, I'd tried to do my best; all those times the Star Lords had sent me off on their hare-brained schemes I'd fought, clawed, bit and scratched, to get back to her. And, then, she'd be off with the Sisters of the Rose. No, our life had not been smooth.

  “Here, Hamun. By Krun, if this is the end of it all, then let's go with flagons in our fists!

  “Aye, Wees! A toast!”

  I gripped the goblet and stared at these two. We stood facing in towards one another, forming a triangle. We lifted our right arms up, goblets high, and—I found nothing uncanny in it—as one we roared out: “To us!”

  For a few moments as the flier plunged we stood like that, goblets high, challenging the dark fates of the universe.

  We drank and at the precise instant the wine touched our lips the sound of a hollow gong blasted into the hot air. The airboat kicked like a calsany. We tumbled together, clasping our free arms about one another, and, by Krun, we did not spill a drop!

  Again that bumping lurch sent us reeling.

  Holding on we felt the voller's mad descent checking. We were slowing! Gripping on, we drank up the toast and Rees bellowed: “I was going to throw the goblets overside in the last toast. But not now. I prize them.”

  “They're vewwy handsome, Wees.”

  Now we were going down still at a rate of knots but nowhere near our original speed. All the same, if we hit flat on like this we'd still be splattered. At last we condescended to take notice of what was going on. We tumbled over to the gunwale, gripping on, and looked down.

  “Damned close, Hanitcha the Harrower take it,” snarled Rees.

  The yellow and brown of the desert sprang up towards us. Around the outline of our little voller another flier's outline showed. The brave flags would all be broken away from their masts. No doubt the deck was in a hell of a mess. We slowed. Closer and closer—slower and slower—someone down there was doing some consummate flying. When we hit the thump was enough—at last—to topple us off our feet. We sprawled along the gunwale, laughing.

  I stopped laughing damned quickly. My clever scheme had gone seriously awry. I stood up and gave them two hard stares.

  “There are things I must tell you. That's why I came aboard, so as to have some time alone with you.”

  Rees puffed out his cheeks and pulled himself up. “And I'm going to have a few words with the pilot of that voller. Stupendous! Whoever he is I'm going to shake his hand and stand him a bumper.”

  “I believe,” I said in a flat voice, “that particular voller pilot to be my wife.”

  Their mouths hung and then snapped shut. Both of them: “Your what!”

  “Please do not call me Hamun. No one knows I am Hamun ham Farthytu here, except my wife, of course. Please call me Dray.”

  Chido was still sitting on the deck. His face could no longer properly be described as chinless; he certainly looked a trifle vacant now.

  “Dray?” He started to stand up. “That's a Vallian voller. By Kwun, Hamun, what's going on?”

  Chido did not, naturally, say ‘Dray.’ He said: ‘Dway.’ The near approach of death had driven all traces of Hamun's features from my face. As I looked at them, two blade comrades, Bladesmen with whom I had ruffled it in the Sacred Quarter of Ruathytu, I felt something of that old Dray Prescot Devil Look spread across my old beakhead. I spoke brusquely. “Vallian, yes. They do not know I am Hamun ham Farthytu. I am known as Dray. By Vox! Remember to call me Dray—please.” The last I added as graciously as I could.

  “Damned Vallians,” said Chido. “Dway, is it?”

  “Aye.”

  “Your wife flew that voller?” demanded Rees.

  “Aye—so I judge by the skill.”

  “You look damned different Hamun—Dway.”

  “Then, by Krun, you've married a girl of parts!”

  There being no suitable reply to that I started to say: “Dray it is then—” A thunderbolt burst up over the gunwale and fairly hurled herself at me. She clasped me about the waist and gripped me hard. She trembled.

  “You great fambly!” she cried. “Why do you do things like this to me?”

  Over her shoulder I could see other figures climbing aboard. The uproar flowered up into the desert sky. They were all clamoring about me now. Among the yells were: “Kendur!” and: “Majister!” and: “Jis!” with one or two “Drays” thrown in. I sighed. Fat chance now of breaking the news gently to Rees and Chido. I said to Delia: “It'll go hard with them.”

  “Then, my heart, let us do it right now.”

  At once she freed me and swung about. Among the people all clamoring about us we looked for them—and could not see them.

  “Nath!” She spoke rapidly to Nath Karidge. “The two who were aboard, the numim and the apim—where are they?”

  “They were rather pushed aside in the rush, maj. I trust they were not trampled down.”

  He spoke in jest, I saw; but there was more than a grain of truth in what he said, by Zair!

  Eventually the pair were spotted walking along side by side out across the sands. Their heads were bowed and they were clearly in deep conversation. Delia gave me a swift glance and I nodded.

  I held up my hand and instantly silence fell.

  “Thank you, friends. We have had a wonderful escape from death. Now prepare to proceed. Check any damage.” They'd know exactly what to do.

  There was no need to assist Delia over the side. Agile as a jumping jimnu she was up and over and waiting for me. I clambered after and, arm in arm, we walked off towards Rees and Chido.

  “I don't much care for this,” I said in what was really a mumble.

  “I believe what you have said of them. They will handle the situation. It's their attitude to Vallia that troubles me.”

  “Aye.”

  They saw us coming, turned to face us, and stood, waiting.

  I made the pappattu in the correct form and sequence; but I did not mention anything about empresses. Rees bowed deeply.

  “We are indebted to you for our lives. I give you our profound thanks.”

  “Our most profound thanks,” amplified Chido, head up. His bow had not been as deep as Rees's. He studied me. “Dway? Delia?”

  “All right! All right!” I fairly snarled it out. “By the diseased and decomposing liver and lights of Makki Grodno! Yes, yes, and yes! I am that Dray Prescot and this is that Delia Valhan Prescot, Delia of Delphond, Delia of the Blue Mountains, of whom you have heard tell. So? Does that affect our comradeship? Well, Rees, well, Chido?”

  They remained silent and I could feel sympathy for them. Into the little hiatus Delia spoke in her soft voice. “The other fliers watched. They told me you three stood together, and drank a last toast. That must have been a sight to see.”

  Nath had obviously been told and had told Delia in all the uproar. The two, numim and apim, stood a little helplessly, I thought, not looking at us.

  Chido spoke. “A damned Vallian all the time. And the damned Emperor of Vallia as well.” He held out his hand. “But still a Bladesman and a comrade.”

  We shook hands, at which I felt remarkably embarrassed, and Rees boomed: “A Bladesman and a comrade,” and wrung my hand in his turn.

  I said: “I am Hamun ham Farthytu in Hamal. I would beg the favor—”

  “Yes, y
es, Dway! We understand and we'll wemember.”

  “Aye, Dray. That we shall.”

  The double meanings there rang loudly between the words.

  “So you two are kovs now. My sincere and warmest congratulations.”

  Rees favored me with a leery look. “The Emperor Nedfar told us that we had been commended to him by a very close friend.”

  “He did not say who the vewwy close fwiend was—now I think we know.”

  “That's it. If you're going to go maudlin on me—”

  “Dray!” said Delia, half laughing.

  In his most courtly way, Rees bowed to her. “You have my condolences, majestrix, for having to suffer such a fellow.”

  “Insufferwwable!”

  The high ringing notes of a trumpet blasting into the hot air took our instant attention. The call was ‘Air Alert!’ Chido and Rees would most likely not recognize the Vallian trumpet call; but they looked up with us. They were up there, three of them in a tight vee formation, flying fast into the north west. Their black hulls cut blots of darkness in the bright sky.

  “Looks as though we've arrived just in time,” remarked Rees.

  “Oh, the big one's coming up, no doubt of that, by Krun.”

  We started off back for the group of vollers and my lads were already fanning out across the sands in a protective ring. Others were hard at work on the airboat. Delia made a face. “What a mess I made of her.”

  Then Chido made a remark that convinced me we were truly back to our old comradeship. “Splendid flying, majestrix—for a Vallian!”

  Delia laughed easily, and then said: “For that, Chido, you may call me maj in company and Delia when we are with friends.” Oh, yes, by Zair, Delia knows how to sort out scamps!

  Feeling much relieved I walked back with my comrades and surveyed the damage. Our voller would still fly, of course, although her upperworks were ground down. The bright flags were salvaged and rigged on jury masts.

  Briskly, Chido walked over to the flier that had caused all this trouble, saying: “We'll get our gear. A salvage team can fly up from our fleet.”

  Rees joined him and Delia called: “And you two are invited to dinner.”

  “We accept with pleasure—maj.”

  If there was going to be a running battle of wits between them, I wanted to stay out of the middle, I can tell you, by Vox!

  With commendable rapidity we were all ship shape and Vondium fashion and took off for Makilorn. Rees and Chido took a last long look at their abandoned flier, alone on the deserted sands. The introductions were not long drawn out affairs. Folk came up and shook hands and said who they were. The Pappattu was made informally and gracefully.

  Chido kept on shaking his head. “A damned bunch of scallywag Vallians.”

  “I saw you, Dray, on the field of the incendiary Vosks.”

  “Aye, Rees, aye. I was glad that Vad Garnath did not die by your hand.”

  “At the time—then, afterwards—yes, I was glad, too.”

  “I'd have given his corpse a kick or three,” said Chido sturdily. If he meant it or not, I didn't know. Chido had changed. I wouldn't put it past him now.

  In the camps outside Makilorn the newly arrived Kapt and his chief of staff of the Hamalese forces made themselves known. They'd itched to be here and had taken the small flier without waiting for Hilzim. He turned up the next day in an enormous skyship that was a capital addition to our fleets.

  “Eight armies,” I said at the second breakfast. I spoke fretfully. “Where in a Herrelldrin Hell is Satra?”

  Deb-Lu said: “We could well do with her college of mages.”

  “I just hope Milsi and Seg—” began Sasha, then stopped talking.

  “Trust old Seg to look out, my love,” said Inch in a mild manner. As I have said, when Seg and Inch talk gently and mildly it scares the pants off anyone who even remotely knows anything about them. The strongest possibility existed that if Satra had harmed Seg or Milsi, Inch would sort her and her army and her sorcerers out first—and then start on the Shanks.

  Inevitably a certain distant friendliness subsisted between my two sets of comrades. They were not exactly cool, one to another, as wary, ready to test the others’ mettle. I tried not to make the mistake I'd made with Kuong, Mevancy, Llodi and company. We all shared meals in the ornate tent my lads considered fitting for their Kendur. And—there was no word of Mevancy.

  A couple of days later a squadron of vorlcas sailed in, flying argosies of sail coasting through thin air and settling gracefully to the desert. Vallians disembarked, and Valkans, tough fighting men and women. To our joy Kov Turko led them to join the Vallian expeditionary force. I shall not go into the shenanigans that followed; believe me, we held a shbilliding to rock the stars in the night sky of Kregen and make all the seven moons dance.

  Nothing would satisfy Turko but he must try a few falls to the glory of Beng Drudoj, and Korero joined in, and many and loud were the falls thereof. Rees, watching, offered a wager—but of that outcome I will not speak. As you may see, despite our manifold problems, we kept fit, we entertained ourselves, and we trained for the big day.

  Some of the contests that took place were stupendous in the extreme. After all, Khamster, Kildoi, Djang, Clansman—all in camp together!

  And still Mevancy did not return.

  One day Kuong said to me in a troubled frame of mind: “I really think I shall have to go and find out.”

  “Trust her. Let's ask Deb-Lu.”

  After Deb-Lu had gone into lupu in his easy way and scryed, he told us Mevancy was well and unharmed. “She has not yet completed her business.”

  With that calm assurance to ease our minds, we could turn to our business. An orbat had to be worked out. Every single swod had to know exactly where he must be and what he must do. Our scouts reported regularly and we were in no apprehension of a surprise raid catching us unawares.

  Each army considered it had the right to the right flank. Failing that, then the center was the favored position. These decisions were down to me.

  The leaders of the various armies and their chiefs were assembled and I spelled it out to them in words that meant I brooked no arguments.

  Each army and each unit of each army was told exactly where they were to form up. I went on: “We must react swiftly. It is doubtful if the Shanks under a leader like Carazaar will miss any tricks. Their object is to take the city. That is practically indefensible from the air. We resist within the city, we strike them outside, and our air will clear their air.”

  As soon as the assembled chiefs left, Delia and I took Inch and Sasha and Deb-Lu to a second, smaller meeting. Present were Queen Kirsty and Rodders, Lunky, and Na-Si-Fantong. Wine was served and then I spoke.

  “You have between you five of the gems of the Skantiklar. It has been agreed that the thing is too evilly powerful and must be destroyed. I would ask you, now, to destroy the gems you have.”

  Lunky gasped, and automatically his hand grasped the icon on his breast. Kirsty frowned. Na-Si-Fantong shook his head. I glared at him, and he said: “It is not possible, majister. Let San Deb-Lu-Quienyin enlighten us all.”

  Deb-Lu pushed his turban straight and scratched his nose. “Quite right, Jak. The whole thing must be destroyed as a whole. Single rubies will not perish by fire or any other means of which we know.”

  “Confound it!” I said. “Confound and blast it!”

  “We just have to win the battle to protect the gems.” Delia put a slim finger to her lips. “Even if we do not succeed in gaining the other rubies from Carazaar, he will not make the Skantiklar.”

  “Then the threat will always remain.”

  “As Zim and Genodras rise each morning.”

  “Sink me!” I burst out. “Who'd be the Emperor of all Paz!”

  Deldar Ornol the Mischievous put his head around the flap of the tent to roar: “Master Rollo requests a word with San Quienyin. Urgent.” Ornol, as the guard Deldar, bellowed like all Deldars bellow, bright of fa
ce and powerful of lungs.

  Deb-Lu perked up. “Ah! That'll be about Seg. I put Rollo onto him.”

  “Send him in, Ornol.”

  “Quidang!”

  Instantly Rollo more ran than walked in, disheveled and eager.

  “Lahal—San—Seg has done it! Satra requests vollers to transport her army here as soon as possible.”

  “Excellent!”

  Inch stood up. “I'll organize that.”

  Fleet Admiral Hilzim and Kov Loriman detached ample fliers to bring in Satra's army and we awaited their arrival with keen interest.

  I said: “So that makes it nine armies.”

  Nine is the magical and mystical number on Kregen. At the Gathering of the Armies, then, we had nine armies. Nine armies to fight against the Shanks and Carazaar and all his dark power.

  And still Mevancy had not returned.

  “Although,” I said quietly to Delia, “I fancy it is Milsi who's accomplished this great stroke of fortune for us.”

  “Yes. She has a way with her.”

  To our three sorcerous comrades, Ling-Li, Deb-Lu and Khe-Hi, I said: “When Satra arrives I'm going to have to try to be strict with the old biddy. Sort her and her army out. I'd rather like you to take a tough line with her mages. It would be nice if we could form a kind of super college. I am only making suggestions, you understand—”

  “Oh, Dray!” broke in Ling-Li, half-laughing. “When you try to be humble you look as though you've constipation.”

  The two Wizards of Loh smiled in complete agreement.

  H'm, I said to myself. I suppose the confounded Star Lords can see that, too.

  “We have a considerable gathering of thaumaturgical expertise.” Deb-Lu was looking chippy, and I guessed that was in anticipation of dealing with Satra's sorcerers. “A super college will be formed. Carazaar is in for one big surprise.”

  “All the same,” pointed out Khe-Hi, with a glance at his wife. “He is normally very powerful. With his enhanced abilities—”

  “We will check him, my dear,” said Ling-Li. “We have to.”

  She said ‘We will make him bare the throat’ which is the same thing.

 

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