by Ian Irvine
Terror made the occupants of the chairs and baskets irrational. A brief duel flared between a mancer and a lesser scrutator, sending bolts of fire across the sky and ending with the mancer blackening in his chair. The scrutator, alive but lacking clothes or hair, was jerked up to safety.
Irisis jumped the instant the cable went, expecting Nish to do the same. She fell into the canvas valley and felt it deepening under her. Across the valley the other prisoners were also jumping. Yggur was standing by Gilhaelith, as if uncertain what to do about him, then with a swift movement he slashed the mathemancer’s bonds. Gilhaelith jumped. Irisis wondered why Yggur had such a set against the geomancer. For a moment it had looked as though Yggur would leave Gilhaelith to his fate.
Her feet caught in a fold in the canvas and Irisis went tumbling head over heels down the deepening valley, now sliding on her chest, now her left side, friction burning through her clothes. She felt the skin go from her hip and tried to throw herself the other way. She was moving too fast. The deck seemed to be falling as quickly as she was, and she was going to hit the roof hard.
The canvas stopped with a jerk that tore a great rent along one side. Irisis kept sliding, on her back now, and she could smell her hair smouldering. She lifted her head and pressed her heels against the fabric to break her fall.
Now her backside was burning but there wasn’t far to go. The canvas valley had looped down to within a couple of spans of the roof, forming a dip at the bottom. She shot down it, slowed rapidly at the dip then toppled over the edge onto the sloping roof slabs, landing hard enough to wind herself. She slid into one of the roof gullies, rolled over and came to her knees.
Something flashed towards her. Reacting instinctively, Irisis threw herself to one side as the flensing trough hurtled past and smashed through the roof. She didn’t have time to think about her narrow escape; the valley above her was full of falling, sliding and toppling people, though she couldn’t see Nish among them. Someone small came flying down ahead of the rest, rolling and cartwheeling and emitting a thin, moaning cry. It was Inouye.
Hitting the dip faster than Irisis had, the little pilot shot into the air and came flying out. Irisis dived, caught Inouye and fell with her, wrenching her shoulder as they landed in the gully. Before she could get up, a clot of witnesses came sliding down, locked together, and hurtled over the dip.
Irisis scrambled up to them on hands and knees, heaving them out of the way before they were crushed by the next bundle of humanity. Most seemed to have suffered no more than bruising or minor broken bones, though one unfortunate lad had landed on his head with a dozen others on top of him and died instantly of a broken neck. Irisis let his body slide away down the slope. There wasn’t time to think about it, for the next group of people were already on her. Where was Nish?
‘I need help,’ she gasped, dragging men and women out of the tangle and flinging them left and right. It was exhausting work, and several times she was knocked off her feet as people rushed down more quickly than she could clear them out of the way. All the other debris came down as well, including dead bodies, abandoned weapons, torturing tools and lengths of barbed rope.
Flangers shot off the end, landed on his feet and immediately set to. A pair of Yggur’s guards arrived and did the same, though not even four of them could deal with the deluge of human jetsam that now filled the lower section of the canvas valley.
Irisis rolled under the end of the slide as about thirty people tumbled down together, landing so hard that their combined impact cracked the roofing slabs. There would be broken backs and necks among that lot.
She still couldn’t see Nish but didn’t have time to worry about him – people were pouring down faster than they could be moved out of the way. The dead and injured formed a fleshy mat which at least broke the falls of the later arrivals, though the groans as they took the impacts were bloodcurdling.
‘Help us!’ she shouted at the able-bodied witnesses, who stood in dazed, silent clots around the end of the slide. One or two came forward; the rest remained where they were, too shocked to move.
Two more of Yggur’s guard landed, followed by a body, the elderly cook who’d been shot early in the fracas. Flangers heaved it to one side without ceremony. Then came Yggur’s seneschal, his under-chef and maid-of-all-work. The seneschal had broken both legs but the others started dragging the injured out of the way with disciplined efficiency.
Yggur slid down on his backside, though he managed to stand up just before the end, sprang right over the fallen and landed on his feet. One of the last to jump, he’d come down in a grey streak, passing some of the other prisoners on the way.
‘You’ve done well,’ he said, surveying the scene in a single glance before taking his turn with the injured.
The amphitheatre didn’t completely collapse, for the air-dreadnought crews had not been able to cut the last two cables. Part of the deck was now draped over the roofs and towers of Fiz Gorgo, while the rest stood up at an angle as the two remaining craft were pushed away on the wind. The canvas was jerking and snapping under the strain.
They worked for several minutes without speaking, until the bulk of the sliders had been moved to safety further down the roof. When they were only coming down in ones and twos, Yggur drew Flangers and Irisis aside.
‘Arm yourselves. We’re not out of danger yet. The air-dreadnoughts haven’t gone far, and the hundred-odd soldiers who were sent down to look for Nish are still here somewhere. They may not stay loyal once they realise that the scrutators are going to abandon them. But then again, they may.’
They armed themselves with swords and crossbows that had collected in the roof gully.
‘I don’t see anyone out in the yard,’ said Irisis. ‘They may not realise that we’ve survived.’
‘Someone will signal them. Look out!’
It was Fyn-Mah, cutting a curving path down the slide, still holding a bloody Flydd as tightly as before. Irisis and Yggur stood together and caught the pair as they came over the edge.
‘How is he?’ Irisis said.
Flydd’s eyes were closed, his fleshless lips blue and he sagged in Fyn-Mah’s arms. He looked as if he’d been dead for a day.
‘He may survive,’ Fyn-Mah said, ‘if he can regain the will to live.’
Yggur jerked his head and Fyn-Mah carried Flydd down to the bottom of the roof gully, refusing all offers of help.
‘Where’s Nish?’ said Irisis, looking up anxiously. ‘That seems to be everyone.’
‘I thought he was with you.’
‘I jumped first. I haven’t see him since.’
Yggur frowned. ‘I don’t see anyone coming – ah, there he is.’
Nish came skidding down, shot off the end of the dip and Yggur plucked him neatly out of the air. The seat of Nish’s pants was smoking and he’d lost skin off his left arm, but he was beaming.
‘We did it!’ he cried, though his euphoria faded when he saw the pile of dead, and dozens more with broken bones.
‘A lot of those were dead before they came down,’ said Irisis. ‘We didn’t lose many from the collapse.’
Nish stood up, beating out his backside as he looked back up the slide. One last figure came rolling down the now gentle slope as the amphitheatre collapsed, draping itself over the towers. The burly little man hit the dip, bounced high, tumbled in the air like an acrobat and landed on his feet.
Yggur lunged at him but Nish cried hastily, ‘He’s a friend! Klarm – Scrutator Klarm – cut the cables and saved my life.’
‘Did he now?’ Yggur said dubiously. He scrutinised the dwarf, then nodded. ‘You’re with us, then?’
Klarm bowed low. ‘After seeing Ghorr’s craven display, how could I do otherwise?’
Yggur thrust out his hand and Klarm took it. ‘I’m glad to have you.’ Yggur called his soldiers and household to him. ‘The struggle is far from over. The scrutators have more than a hundred soldiers below, not to mention the soldiers and witnesses here, and we
can’t count on them aiding us. We must watch our backs and be prepared for anything.’ He called out in a commanding voice. ‘Come this way, everyone. We can get in through the roof down here.’ Yggur lowered his voice. ‘Though after that we must prepare to do battle – what is it, Nish?’
‘See that?’ A canvas-shrouded net was slowly being winched up to Ghorr’s air-dreadnought. ‘It’s the thapter.’
‘Are you sure?’ said Yggur.
‘Yes. The tarps slipped just before I came down. And they’ve got Tiaan, too.’
‘And Malien,’ said Yggur. ‘So we have no choice. We must go after the thapter. The air-floater is still sound, is it not?’
‘It was, the last I saw of it,’ said Irisis. ‘But if they get the chance I’m sure they’ll destroy it.’
‘Then we’d better get to it first. Fyn-Mah, you’re in charge here.’ He deputed a number of his household staff to assist her. ‘Nish, Irisis, Flangers and Klarm, come with me. Vance, Mayl, Bowyer and Menny,’ he said to his surviving soldiers, ‘you too. As soon as we’re inside, go to the armoury and get your light armour, crossbows and weapons for close-in fighting, then meet me at the west door. Inouye, I need you too.’
‘Has anyone seen Ullii?’ said Nish.
‘She didn’t come down the slide,’ said Irisis. ‘I’d say Ghorr has taken her back.’
They broke in through the roof and ran all the way down the steps. Yggur’s troops headed for the armoury. Everyone else followed Yggur into his workshop where, after some deliberation, he took a glassy spiral and a rock-crystal orb out of locked cases and thrust them into pockets in his cloak. They met the soldiers by a side door that led into the yard.
‘We’ll run into Ghorr’s troops before too long,’ said Yggur. ‘Leave the initial confrontation to me – we can’t afford to be tied down in a battle against such odds. We can’t survive it.’
‘What’s your plan?’ said Flangers.
‘Any resistance to be met by obliterating force, after which we offer the rest a chance to make an honourable surrender.’
‘And if they don’t?’
‘Ask me then.’
As they went around the corner they encountered a pair of Ghorr’s guard. Yggur kept walking, and shortly he was confronted by eighty or more soldiers.
Yggur put up his hand and looked the leaders in the eye. ‘You have all seen what we saw,’ he said, not loudly but in a carrying voice. ‘Chief Scrutator Ghorr, a craven cur if ever I saw one, criminally slew three innocent recorders – women of childbearing age – and has run like the dog he is. After this day he will no longer be scrutator. Ghorr will be replaced by Scrutator Fusshte, who cannot compel the loyalty of his fellow scrutators. By the end of the week the members of this Council, who abandoned two hundred witnesses to their deaths, and will soon abandon you, will be at war with each other.
‘And so I ask you: do you cleave to your oath to these contemptibles, or will you put down your weapons, make an honourable surrender, then follow me? Surrender or death: those are your choices. Choose swiftly. I’m in no mood for delay.’
The soldiers looked uncertain. One of their captains spoke to another, they nodded then cried, ‘Attack: we outnumber them ten to one.’
They raised their swords and surged forward. Yggur didn’t hesitate: he drew the glassy spiral from his pocket and tossed it to the ground at the feet of the two captains. It burst like a miniature sun and the incandescence swelled to envelop them both, before shrinking just as quickly. The light winked out and the captains were not men any more.
Yggur allowed the soldiers to stare at the smouldering remains for a good minute, then said, ‘Well?’
They laid down their arms. ‘Raise your right hands and take my oath,’ said Yggur and, to a man, they did.
Yggur ordered them to go up to the roof, assist the injured, then recover the bodies.
He waited until they had passed through the doors before letting out his breath in a groan. ‘Ugh!’ he said. Yggur staggered for a few steps but kept on, limping. He scowled, as if it wasn’t the pain that troubled him so much as being affected by it.
‘What’s the matter with him?’ Nish said quietly to Irisis.
‘Aftersickness. Using power comes at a cost and he’s drawn an awful lot from himself today.’ She ran to catch up to Yggur. ‘Can we count on them, surr, or will they attack us once our backs are turned?’
‘Should the scrutators flee, I expect they’ll serve faithfully enough. But if the fleet comes to ground after us, as it may, I dare say they’ll turn again.’
They reached the air-floater, which was tethered in a corner of the yard, without further incident. It had not been touched.
‘It’s a wonder Ghorr didn’t order it destroyed,’ said Nish.
‘He probably planned to take it with him.’
After checking that they weren’t visible from above, they climbed into the air-floater. Yggur, now limping badly, had to be helped over the side. He leaned against the ropes for a moment before heading into the cabin. At the door he turned. ‘If you would come with me, Scrutator Klarm? To your positions, everyone. Inouye, stand by your controller but don’t draw power until I give the word.’
Nish scanned the sky. The air-dreadnoughts were all over the place. Four maintained their station, high above. Two, one of them being Ghorr’s, were still trying to cut their cables. Three others had been driven downwind over the swamp forest. Another three had become hopelessly tangled and were drifting sideways with the wind, spiralling around each other. The remainder were out of sight.
Klarm followed Yggur inside and the canvas door slapped closed. After a series of rumbles, a rather tenuous mist formed in the yard, enveloping the air-floater.
The door opened. Yggur was panting. ‘That’s the best I can do. Inouye, rise up over the wall, then head south for Ghorr’s craft. Take it slowly or you may pull out of my concealment.’
‘I can’t see Ghorr’s machine,’ she said.
‘The lookouts will tell you which way to go.’
Flangers went to the bow, while Nish and Irisis hung over the rail on either side, staring into the mist.
‘I can’t say I like this plan,’ Nish said quietly.
‘What plan?’ said Irisis.
‘Precisely.’
They rose slowly. Nish couldn’t see anything but mist, swirling and coiling at the lower levels, streaming across the deck as they rose into the stronger winds at altitude. A little way above the towers, the mist parted below them and he looked back to where the amphitheatre had been.
It had completely collapsed, apart from a triangle of canvas sticking up, like the fin of a shark, where it had draped over one of the towers. Two cables ran into the sky at an angle of thirty degrees, taut as wires. They were still attached to the two air-dreadnoughts, which had been driven out over the forest.
‘Run in the direction of that cable,’ said Yggur, pointing to the nearer. ‘But stay at this height.’
‘How come they didn’t cut those cables?’ said Nish.
‘I used the Art on them,’ said Yggur with a grim smile. ‘No blade can cut them, no fire burn them for as long as the spell holds. To untether themselves they’ll have to take apart the winch drums. It took quite a bit out of me, but it was worth it.’
The taut cable angled up into streaming mist. Yggur had a minute-glass in one hand and was watching the sands run as he estimated how far they’d gone. ‘We should be past Ghorr’s craft now,’ he said to Inouye. ‘Go up and turn to face the other way.’
She did so and he extended his arm, chanting under his breath. The mist spun into a narrow, dark funnel in front of him, like water swirling down a plughole. The funnel extended horizontally, stretching, thinning and wavering back and forth as if searching for something.
Yggur strained, and through the opening Nish caught a glimpse of a section of rigging, then part of an airbag.
‘Too high,’ grumbled Yggur, who seemed to be having trouble holding his arm
up. He directed the funnel, whose opening wasn’t much bigger than Nish’s head, down and across and back, then tracked up the port side of the vessel. ‘Is it the right one?’
‘It’s Ghorr’s,’ said Nish. ‘I just saw the top of the thapter hanging below it.’
The funnel was directed up and towards the stern, and there Ghorr stood, issuing orders. A pair of soldiers were hacking fruitlessly at the cable holding his air-dreadnought to the collapsed amphitheatre. The craft was shaking in the wind.
A gust caught the air-floater, heeling it over. Inouye spun the rotor up to full power and slipped the craft expertly up into the lee of the airbags of Ghorr’s much bigger machine. The mist funnel closed over.
‘I can’t hold the concealment much longer,’ said Yggur, clinging to the door. ‘Nish, see if you can see what they’re doing.’
Nish got down on his belly on the deck and put his head over the side. Another wavering tube opened up through the mist below him, though his view was so restricted that it took a while to work out what he was looking at.
‘Ghorr has just whacked the mirror operator over the head. He’s shouting!’
‘He’s been doing a lot of that lately,’ said Irisis, hanging onto his legs as the air-floater lurched one way and then the other.
‘He’s dragged the big crystal-powered mirror around. That must be what they blasted the defences with at dawn.’
‘I dare say,’ said Yggur. ‘Has anyone seen us?’
‘They’re not looking this way,’ said Irisis.
‘He’s pointed the mirror at the cable winch,’ said Nish.
‘It won’t do him any good unless he gets some sun on it,’ said Irisis.
‘If I can make mist, he can break it. He’s getting ready to flee,’ said Yggur. ‘Inouye, take us down.’