by Ian Irvine
“That remains to be seen,” Janck said ominously.
“But only twelve hundred. How can it be enough?”
“It’s not. There’s a second prong to my plan, one I dared not even whisper until we were sure it would work, a couple of hours ago. I’m sending a larger force through a gate made by Malien and her Aachim mancers.”
“You’re daring to direct a gate to Gwine,” said Nadiril, “knowing they’re trying to open their own gate there?”
“I’m desperate.”
“The enemy will detect it the moment it opens.”
“If Malien can open it inside the enemy camp, in the middle of the night, we can take them by surprise.”
Tallia grimaced. Karan felt sick. Gergrig had fought hundreds of battles and won them all; they would never take him by surprise.
“How many troops?” said the scar-faced general.
“Two thousand, eight hundred,” said Janck. “Plus the twelve hundred on the sky ships makes four thousand.”
“Against ten thousand.”
“Our forces are just there to make a diversion while Hissper’s assassins—” He indicated the pale black-haired man. “—hunt the triplets down and cut their throats.”
“It can’t work,” Karan said flatly.
“Why not?” Janck seemed amused.
“The sky ships could be delayed by days. How can you coordinate their attack—to the second—with the attack from the gate?”
He smiled coldly. “That’s why you’re here.”
It hit her like a brick in the eye. Why else would Janck have ordered her to one of his secret councils? “What for?”
“If all goes well, the sky ships can reach Gwine in three days, flying non-stop over the ocean.”
“What if some of them break down? Or crash?”
“Everyone on board will drown.”
He said it so casually that Karan wanted to jump onto the table, run down and kick his big square teeth in.
“I’ve allowed an extra two days in case of bad weather and … other eventualities,” Janck went on. “The attack is planned for half past one in the morning of the sixth day, counting from when they left. That’s two and a half days from now.”
“And me?”
“You’ll return to Gwine in spirit form on the afternoon of the fifth day. You’ll stay well away from anywhere the magiz could detect you, and hide. You’ll keep watch with a spyglass and, when you see the sky ship fleet approaching from the south, you’ll link to Malien.”
“I can’t link any more. I’ve lost the gift. Why don’t you use Nadiril’s farspeaking devices?”
“They don’t work at such long distances,” said Nadiril.
Janck scowled at Malien. “Is there any way she can get back the ability to link?”
“I don’t know,” said Malien.
“But this undermines the whole plan. There’s no other way to coordinate the attacks.”
It was Karan’s way out. “Then there’s no point me going.”
“You’re not weaselling out. Malien?”
She thought for a moment. “Sulien can make a link to Karan before she goes. Karan will block it until she sees the fleet, then unblock the link and tell Sulien the fleet has arrived. Sulien will tell me and we’ll open the prepared gate and send the troops through.”
It was a stupid plan with far too many holes. “What if you can’t send the gate to the right place?” said Karan. “Or the enemy have defences against gates? Or they’re waiting when the sky ships land? Or the Crimson Gate they’re trying to open interferes with your gate?”
“Just worry about doing your own job,” Janck said savagely.
“What then?”
“I don’t follow.”
“You said everyone has to fight. What are my orders after the invasion begins.”
“Assassinate Gergrig.”
Karan reeled. It was a death sentence. “I’m not an assassin.”
“You’ve killed before.”
“Not in cold blood.”
“Not even to protect your daughter?”
“If I go near Gergrig the triplets will detect me.”
“If the triplets are dead, and Gergrig is dead, your daughter is safe. If we allow him to live he’ll soon create another magiz and it’ll start all over again. Gergrig has to die.”
“I’ll … try,” said Karan numbly.
“No one has asked the obvious question,” said Nadiril. “How are the survivors supposed to get away?”
“Back through the gate,” said Janck.
“It won’t be there.”
“Why the hell not?” Janck’s purple face started to turn crimson.
“It’s hard enough to hold a gate open for a few minutes; no one can do so for hours. Besides, we daren’t risk leaving the gate open in case the Merdrun take control of it.”
“Then the survivors will come back on the sky ships.”
“The Merdrun won’t let them land a second time.”
Janck did not reply.
“Given that it’s a suicide mission,” said Nadiril, “and clearly it is, you might have had the decency to tell your troops before they left.”
“I’ll be telling them when I get there.”
“You’re going?” Nadiril said in astonishment.
“I know what you think of me,” said Janck. “But I’ll be leading my troops from the front.”
“Glad to hear it,” said Nadiril. “And I have some good news.”
“What’s that?”
“The stolen bottle of Archeus has turned up.”
52
THE FLIMSIEST OF PLANS
“Take no unnecessary risks before the sky ships appear,” said Janck as Karan prepared to dematerialise. “If you’re caught, Gergrig will torture the plan out of you and the whole mission will fail.”
You don’t give a damn about any of us, she thought. Just your precious plan. “I’ve been on a damn sight more covert missions than you have,” she said coldly.
He studied her with active dislike. “Then get going.”
She was lying on a pallet this time; she could not risk injuring her abandoned body. Saying goodbye to Sulien had been agonising. She had been unbearably formal, then had disappeared, and Karan felt sure she would never see her again. She blocked the unbearable emotions, focused on a safe part of Gwine and, without a word, triggered the spell.
Pain tore through her from throat to groin as her spirit was ripped from her body; she felt a painful stretching as if she were made of elastic, a rushing sound, a cold wind, then with a boingg and a popping of her ears her spirit materialised on the island.
But she was miles away from the treeless hill she had intended to use as a lookout. She was inside the enemy camp, between two rows of soldiers’ tents. It was ten in the evening and there were Merdrun everywhere.
Panic overwhelmed her. She should not be here. The triplets would trap her and force her to materialise. They would torture her, or Gergrig would, until she broke and betrayed Janck’s plan. Then the triplets would unblock the link to Sulien and kill them both.
She forced herself to think calmly. Being stuck in the middle of all these tents raised a question she had not previously thought about—where the rest of the Merdrun lived. They must have a safe refuge for the mothers, children and the folk, and the people who taught, trained and guarded the children.
In Sulien’s first nightmare, months ago, Gergrig had talked about gaining a world of their own, and his yearning had been palpable. Clearly he had not thought barren Cinnabar a world worth having; they were only there for the Crimson Gate and because they needed practice in killing.
Where then was the Merdrun’s home? Was it some desolate rock drifting through the eternal void? Was that the secret weakness they were so desperate to protect? Could she find out?
She drifted through the shadows. This place was unlike any other army camp she had ever seen. There were no camp followers and no one sat around drinking, dicing or
playing cards. The tents were either empty or occupied by sleeping soldiers. Those outside were all practising combat with manic intensity. Were they obsessed with war? Or were they afraid to stop training in case they were judged unworthy and killed, as Gergrig had threatened to do to his drum-boy, Uigg?
Karan also noticed that they were slower than they had been on Cinnabar. There they had bounded effortlessly up the steep slopes; their attacks had been unstoppable. Here they just seemed normal.
She tucked the thought away and looked for signs of the Crimson Gate they were trying to open. At all costs, Malien’s gate had to avoid any other gate, complete or partial, because the consequences of two gates trying to occupy the same place would be cataclysmic.
There was no sign of a gate. Karan was drifting upslope when the back of her neck tingled. A robed acolyte was staring in her direction. The young woman, who had shining black hair and a heart-shaped face that would have been beautiful had it not been marred by the ugly black glyph burned into her forehead, appeared to be straining to see something—her jaw was set and the tendons stood out in her neck.
She’s straining to see me! She’s sensed me.
Karan’s instinct was to flee, though moving rapidly took energy that she could not spare. At this distance from her comatose body in Zile she could only draw a trickle. Afraid to fly in case it exposed her to the triplets, Karan drifted down until the soles of her boots touched the hard-packed ground. She felt the tiniest impact, then kept sinking.
It took more of her precious strength than she had expected and the earth rasped at her, inside and out, as her spirit slid into it and came to rest at eye level. It was a most peculiar feeling: she felt thicker and denser, like a bag that had been filled with hard-packed dirt.
The ground was an uncertain refuge, though; if she were detected, she could easily be trapped. She waited, every nerve singing, while the acolyte frowned and walked back and forth. If she called the triplets they would find her in seconds.
The acolyte came forward, head cocked, and reached out to feel the air where Karan’s spirit had been. Could the acolyte see her? She had undoubtedly detected something. Karan dared not move or do anything to attract attention.
A minute passed, then another. The tension slowly faded from the acolyte’s eyes and she shook her head and walked away. Earth could defeat many spells, Karan knew; perhaps it had been enough to hide her.
She eased herself out of the ground and drifted down the slope, over the fifteen-foot-high southern wall and south for several miles until she reached a steep rocky hill near the south coast. The grey limestone was sheer on the southern side and pitted with shallow caves.
From the top she could see the wooden watchtowers on three sides of the fortress, a fourth watchtower at the gates and a muddy cart track winding up to it. A mile to the west was the palisade wall of the slave camp, and the ruined towns and devastated lands lay beyond.
Karan settled into a cave halfway down the cliff. Even if she were detected, the Merdrun could not attack her here without descending from the peak on ropes. Judging by the stars it was 11 p.m. Not long to go now.
The sky-ship squadron was to rendezvous at an uninhabited island thirty miles south-west of Gwine and wait. If the journey had gone well they would have been there two days ago, and even if some craft had been delayed, all twenty-eight ships should have reached there by this morning. They would have left by now, so as to reach Gwine by 1.30 a.m.
She took a small night glass out of her pack. It was just a tenuous shadow of its real self and she prayed that it would still work—she had little experience of using objects while in spirit form. Karan aimed it south-west and scanned the horizon but there was nothing to see.
Her empty stomach clenched painfully. She had used more energy than she had expected and there was no way to eat while in spirit form. She had to ignore it and pray that the squadron was on time. After they arrived she would head back to the fortress, materialise in some out-of-the-way spot, then begin the deadly hunt for Gergrig.
What must Llian be thinking at this moment? That even if he survived the landing and the Merdrun’s furious counterattack, he would be slaughtered on the battlefield? How long could the small attack force hold out against so many Merdrun? Perhaps only minutes. What a stupid, tragic waste.
Sulien, with nothing to do but wait for the worst news, must be in torment. How would she fare under the Aachim’s care? Clan Elienor was kinder than most Aachim clans but they were a proud, remote folk, not given much to levity or life’s simple pleasures, and the Aachim looked down on outsiders. Sulien, only one quarter Aachim, would always be an outcast among them.
Karan knew she had failed her.
Only an hour before the gate was due to be opened, Sulien finally found a way through the barrier around Gergrig and sensed out his drum boy. That did not take long; Uigg radiated both the frozen outward calm that was his mask, and the inner anguish he denied even to himself. The mix of emotions was unmistakeable. He stood straight-backed between the rows of tents, Gergrig’s empty command tent behind him, staring straight ahead and playing his drums with manic fury as if trying to beat them to death.
Uigg? she whispered. Are you all right?
His head shot round and he stared at the place from which her voice issued, then looked straight ahead. I am Merdrun, he said in a dead voice. I am not troubled by feelings. I simply serve and obey.
Of course you feel, said Sulien. How could you not after all the terrible things Gergrig has made you do?
I’m on a warning. If I display forbidden emotions I will be killed in front of our army as an example to all. I … will … not … feel!
She moved closer. But you do feel, because you’re good and decent and kind.
I’m … not … kind! he choked. Kindness is weakness and weakness is failure.
I think you are kind. I know you care.
Stop it! he moaned. You’ll be my death.
She had pushed him too far. I’m sorry. I would not hurt you for anything, but …
He froze, looked around jerkily, and she saw the treacherous tears in his eyes. Uigg wiped them away furiously. Why are you being nice to me?
I can feel your pain. Are you getting ready for battle?
Why do you ask? he said between his teeth.
She had made a big mistake. Merdrun would never reveal their plans to outsiders. You just … look as though you’re getting ready for something.
Just training. Sulien knew he was lying. Who are you? he said suspiciously.
No one important.
Only two people from Santhenar have been able to come to us this way, said Uigg, quivering. The mother and the daughter. You’re Sulien, our most deadly enemy!
There was no point denying it, so she projected an image of herself. Yes, I am.
It shocked him. But you’re just a little kid! How can someone so small be our worst enemy?
Are you going to call Gergrig?
Uigg was shaking. It was his duty to denounce her, and he would be guilty of the worst treason if he did not, yet she was the only person who had ever spoken kindly to him. Denouncing her would be a personal betrayal.
His eyes were bulging and his breath came in gasps. He was trying to speak but unable to get the words out. A lifetime of brutality had left him emotionally stunted.
Fly! he choked. I give you … one minute.
As Sulien retreated, footsteps came towards the tent and she expected psychic nets to fall on her. But a minute passed, and another, and still Uigg kept silent. Why hadn’t he informed on her?
What’s the matter with you now, drum boy? snapped Gergrig. Clearly he knew something was wrong. Would he tear the truth out of Uigg, then kill him?
I … I’m afraid I won’t do you proud, said Uigg, when battle comes.
I fear that too, my son. But you won’t have long to wait. The fools think they can take me by surprise. Me! Go and fill your belly; it won’t be long now.
Yes, Father.<
br />
Sulien withdrew. This was bad. The enemy were expecting an attack in the night. She had to find Janck and convince him to call it off, but if he did, it would surely doom Karan and the fleet of sky ships that had left days ago. What was she to do?
And how could any father treat his son so cruelly?
Karan swept the southern horizon with her night glass once more. Finally the appointed hour came, 1.30 a.m. The squadron would appear in the next few minutes, and it would be on.
She swept the horizon again and again, but it remained empty save for a scatter of streaky clouds. What if they were coming in from the west? No, that quadrant of the sky was just as empty.
Five minutes passed, then ten. Then twenty and there was still no sign of a single sky ship. Why not? They’d had over five days, two more than needed. Something was wrong, and Sulien knew it too; even over the blocked link Karan could sense her anxiety.
Had Gergrig’s spies been watching as the squadron took off? Or had Shand? The loading and departure of so many sky ships must have been detected, and once Gergrig knew about it he would jump to the obvious conclusion.
Could the triplets have located the squadron out over the ocean and attacked it? There was no way of knowing. Llian! she sent fruitlessly. Where are you?
Or was Gergrig waiting for the sky ships to come sweeping in, planning to shoot them down before they could land to disembark their troops? A spear or heavy arrow could tear open an airbag and send a sky ship plunging uncontrollably to the ground, while a blast of mancery or a fire arrow would blow it to bits and possibly the sky ships on either side as well.
An hour passed, minute by agonising minute. Then two hours. Three. Four, and the southern sky remained empty. Sulien’s anxiety was now a mind-shriek but Karan dared not relax the block.
It was not long until dawn. The squadron would not come now; it would not approach the island in daylight. It had either been lost on the long, hazardous trip from Zile, or been delayed and hopefully would come tonight.
But Karan could not last that long without food. She was already weak from hunger and by the end of the day she would be useless. Remaining here was tremendously draining on her body back home, but nothing could be done about it.