by Jack Massa
The Iruks had started back to the porch when the door through which they had entered the yard burst open. Armored men poured in, marines with lances and shields.
"Halt in the name of the Prince-Ruler," came the officer's command as more and more lancers charged through the door.
The Iruks backed away, eyes darting around the yard.
"This way!" Lonn yelled.
He made a dash for the front gate, ducking between two high-built hulls in case the marines cast their lances. He and his mates reached the gate well ahead of their pursuers. Karrol tore back the bolt and everyone pounced on the gate and shoved it open. The mates rushed outside—to confront ten more marines with lances lowered.
"Stand or be run through," one of them said.
The Iruks stiffened, looking at each other. The Tathians relaxed their guard just a fraction.
"Go!" Lonn yelled.
The mates leaped upon the surprised marines, dodging their late, feeble thrusts, grabbing the shafts of their lances. Lonn yanked on one spear, pulling his man off-balance and tripping him with an out-thrust leg. Karrol got control of another lance, turned the point around and lunged, driving its owner to his back. Draven ducked in, grabbed a third man's legs and flipped him over. The others kicked and pushed, struck swift blows with fists or forearms. The suddenness of the Iruks' attack caught the Tathians so off-guard that in seconds the mates had won free.
They were escaping across the pier as the main detachment of marines charged through the boatyard gate. The officer commanded the Iruks to halt once more, then ordered his men to cast lances. The Iruks heard the iron points strike the dock behind them as they fled, one lance just missing Draven's leg. But in pausing to throw, the marines gave the hard-running Iruks time to open more ground.
The mates sprinted to the place where they had left their informer, but as Lonn expected the man was gone. Then Lonn spotted a second detachment of marines running toward them from ahead on the pier.
"Now what?" Karrol demanded.
"Under the dock," Lonn said.
With no time to debate the Iruks followed his lead. They raced to the edge of the dock and dropped over the side, landing crouched on the ice. They crawled beneath the weathered breakwater and found themselves in a low sprawling forest of posts and beams, faintly lit from below by the icelight.
There was just enough room to stand but instead the Iruks sat down, pulling out their skate blades and strapping them to their boots. Their fingers worked frantically as the rumble on the planks above grew louder, marines approaching from both directions. A number of lancers were down on the ice and crawling under the dock by the time the mates were up and ready to skate.
They slid off beneath the pier, ducking every few yards to pass under the crossbeams. Advised they were escaping, the marines still on the pier ran to try and keep up. But soon their pounding footsteps faded behind the skaters.
When they neared the stone quay the Iruks turned and burst from under the dock, sprinting straight out from shore. The frozen harbor was rough and jagged, difficult to skate but not impossible for Iruks. Karrol even stopped to dance obscenely and taunt their land-bound pursuers—until her mates grabbed her and pulled her on. When the marines had shrunk to tiny figures on the distant docks, the Iruks wheeled and started skating parallel to shore.
"We're all right unless a meltwind blows," Eben said.
"Don't even think of that," Lonn yelled.
The Iruks kept their distance from the city piers until they had passed the naval base, then slanted in toward the civilian neighborhoods beyond. They had far outdistanced any pursuit by land, and Lonn saw no iceboats giving chase. The sun was sinking over the city to their backs as the mates skated on, toward the fishermen's district and the safety they imagined there.
Seventeen
Shadows filled the streets of Kadavel as the Iruks skated ashore and found their inn. When they walked in the door their spirits were lifted by the aroma of roasting meats and bubbling mead. The mates went to the kitchen and filled tankards from the caldron of mead to take back to their room.
They drank a second round over supper and were about to start on their third when a serving girl came up to them in the common room. She said Amlina wished to see them upstairs. The Iruks refilled their tankards and brought them along.
They found the witch seated by her fireplace in a quilted robe embroidered with tiny flowers. Her blond hair was combed and bound with the silver fillet. She smiled as the Iruks came in.
"I'm glad you're here. I have good news."
"What is it?" Lonn asked.
"There is a certain technique of deepseeing," Amlina explained, "designed as a last resort, when all other methods have proved useless and one is tempted to despair. This technique assures an answer from the Deepmind. It requires the seeker to relinquish all personal intents and desires and accept that answer, whatever it be. Thus the technique is called 'Bowing to the Sky.'"
The Iruks were leaning against the hearthstones or sitting on the floor, sipping their mead as they listened to the witch.
"I enacted the Bowing to the Sky this afternoon," Amlina continued, "asking how I ought to proceed in searching for the Cloak. Often it takes days for an answer to surface, but this time it came in a few hours: an image of the six of us seated in a wei circle, deepseeing together. As I looked on this vision I knew with certainty that our searching in that way would bring success. I see now why Kizier sensed you Iruks had an important part to play on this journey. Through you I can find the Cloak again—not just through Lonn, but through all of you. Your closeness to each other and to Glyssa is the key."
"What must we do?" Draven asked.
"Each of you will need to undergo the initiation, as Lonn did," Amlina said. "I must warn you as I warned him, the ritual can be painful and so can the path it opens."
"Lonn survived it," Draven answered. "We will also."
"Every mind reacts differently," the witch said. "Some initiates experience only clarity and joy, with no distress whatever. Others are overwhelmed with confusion and anguish. Some few never fully regain their wits. There is definite risk to your minds, all of you must know this."
The mates looked at each other, clenched their lips, nodded in solemn agreement.
"The risks don't matter to us." Lonn spoke for them all. "We will face any danger to save Glyssa and reunite the klarn."
"All right," Amlina said. "But there is also something else. In group endeavors of this kind, a harmony of minds is essential. For this harmony to flourish, there must be honesty and openheartedness. I think you have something of this openness already, with one another. But it must be deepened among you, and it must be extended to include me. There can be no reservations or hidden animosities among us, no lingering distrust."
The witch was gazing now at Karrol, who frowned angrily and lowered her eyes.
"I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know?" Draven demanded. "How can you stand in the way now? This is our chance to find Glyssa!"
"I don't know that for certain," Karrol said. "Neither do you."
"It's the only chance we've got to work with at the moment," Lonn pointed out. "We obviously can't go searching the docks again, not for a while at least."
"Why?" Amlina asked. "What happened?"
"We had a little trouble with some marines," Lonn said. "Nothing we couldn't handle. But we had better lie low for a while."
The witch insisted on hearing all of it, so Lonn and Draven told her of the adventure. Their narrative was casual and lighthearted enough, their spirits buoyed with drink. But by the time they finished Amlina was up and pacing fretfully.
"How could you do this?" she cried. "I told you over and over we had to be inconspicuous. So our second day here you're on the city piers brawling with marines."
"No harm came of it." Lonn leaned back on his elbow. "We weren't caught."
"Not yet. But the Prince-Ruler has spies in every district. How long do
you think it'll take them to track down five barbarians from the South Pole?"
The Iruks glanced at one another and shifted uncomfortably.
"No one followed us back here," Lonn said. "I thought we'd be safe. Should we go to another inn then?"
"No." Amlina wrung her hands. "Tramping about the streets now would only make you easier to find ... Tramping about the streets," she repeated, her eyes staring intently at nothing.
Amlina stalked to the window and opened the shutters a crack to peer outside. "By the Deepmind. They've found us already."
The Iruks jumped up and hastened to look over the witch's shoulders. The street below was thronged with city guardsmen. Mounted on their willowy aklors, they had ridden up silently in the darkness. Now the men were dismounting, armed with truncheons and swords, their steel armor glistening in the glow of lanterns hung from saddlebows.
A loud pounding sounded on the door of the inn. On reflex the Iruks drew their swords.
"No!" Amlina said. "You can't fight the whole city."
"What choice is there?" Lonn demanded.
"Surrender. I'll go with you. I'll get you out of it somehow."
Again they heard the banging on the door downstairs, then the door opening and voices raised.
"Let's run for it," Karrol urged. "We can drop down to the alley, or go out the back way."
"The building is surrounded," Amlina said. "Please. If you kill any guards there'll be no chance of my getting you free."
Now the floor rumbled with the tramping of boots on the stairs. Lonn and his mates stood rigid, hesitant. Despite the odds it seemed less fearful to the Iruks to fight than to let themselves be captured.
"You've all sworn an oath on the life of your klarn," Amlina said, "to follow my counsel in moments such as this. I'm calling on that oath now."
The door shook as the men outside pounded. "Open to the Prince-Ruler's guards."
Amlina crossed quickly to the door. "I'll find a way out." She stared at Lonn. "Please, trust me."
She pulled open the door and the guardsmen marched in.
"What is it?" Amlina demanded. "What do you want?"
"Take them," the captain pointed at the Iruks with his sword. "Carefully."
The guards tossed away their truncheons and drew their steel. They advanced into the room. The Iruks crouched, ready to fight, eyeing Lonn to see what he would do.
"Do not resist," Amlina urged.
When the guards were almost on him, Lonn whispered a curse and threw down his sword and knife. He raised his empty hands. The blades of the other Iruks rang hollowly as they struck the floor.
"Bind them," the captain said.
The mates struggled only a little as their arms were pulled behind their backs and tied with leather thongs.
"What does this mean?" Amlina shouted. "Why do you seize my servants?"
"Bind her also," the captain said. "You are under arrest by order of the Prince-Ruler."
"But why?"
"The charges were not disclosed to me. I have orders to take you. That is all."
The Tathians allowed the witch to put on her cloak before they tied her hands. They used their truncheons to herd the prisoners out of the chamber.
The inn's tenants were all assembled in the common room, and they gaped as the witch and the Iruks were marched down the stairs.
"Where are you taking them, my lord?" Elzna cried. "What are they guilty of?"
"Silence. Would you question the Prince-Ruler's commands?"
"No. But their belongings. What shall I do with them?"
"Leave them," Amlina said. "I assure you this arrest is some witless blunder. We will be back in our rooms before morning."
Lonn thought he heard the confused landlady murmur her compliance as he and his companions were herded out through the vestibule.
About a dozen guards stood watch in the street, while others were coming around from the back of the inn. Perhaps forty riders in all had been deployed to capture the Iruks. With the prisoners under control, the guards hung their truncheons on their saddles and prepared to mount.
The prisoners were led before one group of aklors whose saddles had double seats. Eight or nine feet at the shoulders, the aklors had oblong bodies, flat feline faces, and six long spindly legs. The guardsmen rapped their mounts sharply on the necks and the beasts responded by kneeling. Hands still tied, Amlina and the Iruks were forced into the saddles and made to sit against the backrests.
"This rude treatment is uncalled for," Amlina complained as her ankles were bound to the rear stirrups. "Your superiors will hear of it."
"Quiet," the captain replied. "Or would you rather be dragged the whole way?"
When the prisoners were secured the guardsmen climbed on the front part of the saddles and tugged on the reins. The aklors snorted, braced their bony legs and rose. On the captain's shouted orders the riders formed into a column two abreast and started up the street.
The aklors moved with the silent, eerie ease of spiders. Lonn understood how they could have filled the street below Amlina's window without being heard. The riders traveled northward for many blocks, moving away from the harbor. Gables and upper stories leaned ponderously over the streets. Above them, the sky was black and starless.
After some time the planks below the aklors' feet gave way to worn cobblestones. The streets sloped upward, gradually ascending toward the massive bulk of the High Acropolis, now plainly visible above the roofs. The column turned right and circled around to the sloping eastern face of the acropolis. From there the aklors climbed a wide paved avenue, past open parks and walled manor houses.
Finally the column reached the summit, where edifices of black marble and tall iron statues enclosed a gloomy square. The tireless aklors plodded across the square to a fortified keep. The riders passed through a raised portcullis and stopped in a high-walled courtyard.
The guards dismounted, freed the prisoners' ankles and pulled them from the saddles. Legs wobbly, Lonn and his companions were pushed up a flight of steps and through a huge portal. They marched down a long corridor and then down several flights of steps to a damp sprawling chamber—the entrance, so they learned, to the Prince-Ruler's dungeons. Here they were transferred into the hands of the palace guard, men in gilded armor and purple capes. Hands still bound behind their backs, the prisoners were made to sit against the wall, watched over by ten of the guardsmen.
After a short wait a messenger arrived and Amlina and the Iruks were made to stand and go upstairs again. Escorted by the ten guards, they climbed a long spiral of steps inside a round tower. They traversed an elegant hallway and came at last to a sumptuous throne room. Fires blazing in two wide hearths reflected on the polished floor. Splendid tapestries hung from galleries along three of the walls. Fronting the fourth wall was a dais set with a great dragon-carved throne. Twenty guards flanked the throne, but otherwise the chamber stood empty.
The Iruks and the witch were lined up at the foot of the dais. Lonn saw some drapes move at a portal off to the side, and could barely discern a mutter of conversation. Then the drapes parted and a sturdy velvet-clad man strode through, attended by two white-bearded men in silk robes and tall silk hats—Tathian sorcerers by the look of them.
"I am Hagen," the man in velvet said, "Prince-Ruler of Kadavel."
"My lord." Amlina bowed her head tersely. "I must ask why myself and my servants have been dragged—"
"Be silent!" Hagen commanded. "These servants, as you admit them to be, broke into a boatyard this afternoon and assaulted several workmen. Worse, they manhandled ten of my marines and made fools of another fifty who tried to prevent their escape."
"Are these charges proven?" Amlina asked.
"Your servants have just been identified by a witness to the event. If you hope for mercy, young woman, you had better remember where you are and hold your tongue."
"I'm sorry, my lord," Amlina said.
Lonn caught the tone of passive persuasion in her voice. Perha
ps the sorcerers heard it also, for one of them whispered something in Hagen's ear. The prince's gaze narrowed on Amlina, and he gestured abruptly at one of the guards.
"Take this one to the next chamber. We will interrogate her separately."
Amlina started to protest, then checked herself. Impassively she accompanied the guard. Hagen waited until the witch had exited through a doorway beneath one of the side galleries, then turned to scrutinize the Iruks.
"I know why you forced your way into that boatyard. The man who just identified you is the same one that led you there. He is an informer in my employ. He steered you to that boatyard so he could slip away and summon troops to capture you."
"Why?" Lonn demanded.
"Because you are Iruks, and I had ordered that any of your race found in Kadavel be brought to me. My informer told me the questions you asked in the tavern about the woman, the lost crew member you are searching for. Is she not the one who brought the Cloak of the Two Winds to Kadavel?"
Hagen scanned the Iruks' faces, smiled as they stared back stolidly.
"Yes, I know about the Cloak. I know it is somewhere in the city, and I intend to find it. Tell me what you know of it, and perhaps I'll be lenient with you."
The Iruks kept silent, leaving it to Lonn to speak for them.
"We came to this city seeking our mate," Lonn said. "We have no interest in the Cloak."
"But you did possess it for a time." Hagen walked before the line of prisoners. "After you stole it from the Archimage's apprentice ... Is that who the Larthangan woman is who claims you for servants? Yes, I can see it on your faces. Unlikely that she should join forces with you. But then the whole affair is unlikely enough."
Hagen stopped before Lonn, eyeing him pointedly. "You are barbarians with no legal status here. I could easily have you put to death for your crimes. Before I decide on such drastic punishment, are you sure there's nothing you want to tell me about the Cloak?"
Grimly Lonn weighed his choices. He knew precious little about the Cloak, not that he believed any amount of information would convince Hagen to let them go. The Iruks' only hope seemed to be that Amlina could somehow witch the Prince-Ruler.