Then it was all the long way east across continents and islands and oceans to Segesthes. We stopped off briefly in Strombor which was competently run in the absence of Gloag fighting Shanks in Mehzta, and then we soared out over the Great Plains. Well! My Clansmen led by the wild Hap Loder went mad with joy and great were the rejoicings. This time I was after armored chivalry mounted on the earth-shaking voves. My clanners responded and, once again, a force mustered and flew out, this time with Vendayha Lady in company. We all met up at Makilorn.
So, now there were five separate forces here. The Armies Gathered.
Seg and Milsi, Inch and Sasha, were not in the camp. I was not in the least surprised when they turned up with another army. These were fighting men and women from Milsi's and Seg's realm of Croxdrin, reinforced with a goodly gang of bean-pole tall, axe-armed Ng'grogans recruited by Inch and Sasha.
Now there were six armies mustered on the sands outside Makilorn.
“If poor old Queen Satra gets it right,” observed Delia, “that will make seven armies.”
“And we need every single swod in every army.” Inevitably, there were rumbles, and sporadic arguments leading to quick fights between soldiers of one race or army and the others; in general the troops behaved themselves. All were only too well aware of the stern tasks that lay ahead.
In the event the seventh army turned up aboard Hyrklese vollers. Delia's face brightened up wonderfully at the thought of seeing our lad, Jaidur, King of Hyrklana. I felt for her—and, by Krun! for myself—when Jaidur turned up missing. The forces from Hyrklana were led by Vad Gochert. His eye patch glittered on me as the greetings were exchanged.
“The king entrusted me with the army. I am honored, majister.”
“Indeed,” I said in my gruff old way. If I confess to pleasure at the thought I'd read this man aright from the beginning, then I make no apology for that. “And we are honored to have you and the Hyrklese army with us.”
Later on Delia, with rather a long face, told me that she'd had confidential information from some of her people she'd earlier sent to Huringa to keep an eye on Jaidur that the marriage did not prosper. “Nothing too serious yet, that cannot be mended; but, my heart—”
“Jaidur is a right tearaway. Vax Neemusjid. Aye. Well, like his brothers he has married. As for the girls—”
“Lela—or Jaezila as you will call her—and Tyfar will be splendid! That I know. As for Dayra—Ros the Claw—she has things to do yet.”
“And little Velia, who is not little any more, and Didi—”
“They are promised to the Sisters of the Rose.”
“Aye.”
The next army to arrive gave me great pleasure. He came stamping up to our tent in his bash on, bully-boy way, full, fleshy, choleric. I said: “Lahal, kov. It is good to see you and the army of Yumapan and Lome.”
“Lahal—majister.”
Oh, yes, Kov Loriman the Hunter had come a long, long way since the days of Spikatur Hunting Sword, when we'd groped our way around among the magics and monsters of the Moder. A figure appeared at his side, wreathed in a trembling blue radiance.
Instantly, futile though the gesture was, my fist gripped the hilt of my sword.
Another blue-shimmering figure ghosted into existence, and dear old Deb-Lu, very quickly, said: “It is perfectly all right! He felt he would prefer to stand before you in lupu at first. Afterwards—”
“You vouch for him, san?”
“I do. He recognizes the situation. He appealed to Kov Loriman because they have worked together before.”
“I see!”
The astonishment I felt was tempered by caution. If Deb-Lu said a thing was so, then it was a safe bet that that thing was so.
“The requirements of the Skantiklar have changed. San Na-Si-Fantong has uncovered further information which he has shared with me. It seems that the Skantiklar's powers are uncontrollable by a single mage. The power for self-destruction is so great as to make the thing deadly. It is our view, shared by Khe-Hi and Ling-Li, that the Skantiklar had best be destroyed.”
There was no need to say that this information tallied with what I had learned from Zena Iztar and the Star Lords.
“You have the ruby safe, the one you snatched in the Realm of the Drums?” I spoke with a hard edge to my voice.
“Aye, majister.” Na-Si-Fantong, as ever, ducked his head and took a breath before he spoke. “And the other two.”
“Then Carazaar can only have four.”
After that the real Na-Si-Fantong walked in with Deb-Lu, and I found to my astonishment that my astonishment died. We were all of Paz, in this great struggle together.
“If you don't count Turismond, which is, anyway, remote and cut-off,” pointed out Delia, “we now have representatives of all the islands and continents.”
Thinking about creeping along the dusty passages of the Realm of the Drums after this clever sorcerer, Na-Si-Fantong, had disappeared, I answered a little absently, if sharply: “Loh, where the battle is to be fought, is not represented by the central power—the Empire of Walfarg.”
Milsi in her gentle way said: “Give Satra time, Dray.”
“Give her enough time and she'll be too late.”
“She has a task, though, be fair.”
“Look, Milsi, dear, why don't you and Seg nip up to Hiclantung and spell it out for the old biddy? If she fiddles about regaining all her realms and the Shanks win, then she'll lose ‘em anyway. If she comes down here and chips in, then, if things work out, we can help her.”
Seg roared out: “Why don't you finish the sentence properly, my old dom?” He was laughing at me, his handsome face beaming.
“Finish the sentence?”
“Aye, my old dom! Properly. Finish with: ‘Dernun!'”
“Oh,” I said, chastened.
“A very good idea, Dray.” Milsi was quite unperturbed. “We'll go.”
“And do be quick,” said Delia. “The Shanks’ power grows.”
“They'll wait,” grunted Seg, “for me to shaft a few of ‘em.”
We shouted up the remberees when Milsi and Seg and a bodyguard lifted off for Hiclantung. Now if from all this coming and going, with armies being wafted into Tsungfaril from all over Paz, you gain the impression that we had vast fleets of aerial ships at our bidding, I must immediately disabuse you of any such notion. An accretion to our strength came with the vollers from Djanduin, certainly. But we were short of air still. For example, most of the clanners from Segesthes were lifted in Hamalese vessels. Among these were a few brand new craft; most were battle-worn. Kapt Hargon ham Hurlving told me that the Emperor Nedfar had appointed a kov to command the land forces and that Fleet Admiral Harulf ham Hilzim would be returning to command the air. This pleased me. Harulf was a fine sailor and a good man.
During this brief period Na-Si-Fantong was much in Deb-Lu's company. Whilst I cannot go so far as to say I felt uneasy at this close association, I had a few words with Khe-Hi and Ling-Li when they arrived in the camp. They'd had to attend to their twins’ education back in Whonban so that they would in the fullness of time become a full-fledged Wizard and Witch of Loh.
Khe-Hi laughed. “Oh, Deb-Lu will get the best of anything that goes on there!”
Ling-Li agreed. “There is always something more to learn under the Seven Arcades.”
I heaved up a grunting kind of sigh. “Yeh. As in life. The more you know the more you understand how little you know.”
In the camp there were, of course, plenty of other sorcerers of various persuasions. Like the troops, they had their quarrels and, like the swods, they got over them and learned toleration under stress. My view was quite simple. In our struggle against Carazaar we'd need every damned mage we could lay our hands on.
Kuong had taken Llodi and comrades off to his estates at Taranik to maintain contact and pick up supplies of dried fruit. I made it a point of comradeship to ride out to greet his returning caravan. They trudged up to Wayfarer's Drinnik smothered in du
st, dry, and many limped as they marched.
Kuong was boiling with fury.
“Damned Glitchers! By Lohrhiang of the strangdja and kazz! I'd string ‘em all up, make ‘em dangle, Tsung-Tan rot their eyeballs!” He was in a right old paddy.
“I'm sorry to hear that,” I said as we rode together.
“Oh, we shafted ‘em and drove ‘em off. But we lost good men and animals. Poor Naghan the Miserable—a most cheerful merry fellow—will never ride with us again. Tsung-Tan rot ‘em!”
“And the supplies?”
“We lost some dried berries—it's the lads that sadden me.”
The Glitch Riders, raiding down from the north, flamboyant in their sand scarves and their robes, flashing steel expertly from the backs of their mounts, sticking their slender lances with deadly precision, remained a constant threat to the caravans. We just did not have enough air to cover everywhere. So, once again, I made up my mind.
As I was issuing instructions for a small expedition, Mevancy came in to see me. My hardened jurukkers by now knew who had immediate access to their Kendur. I looked up from the list.
“Mevancy? You look—ah—”
“It doesn't matter what I look like, cabbage. May I borrow a small airboat? Please?”
“Of course.”
“You don't ask me what for?”
“If you intend to tell me, you will. If not—”
“Oh, you!”
Her color rose blooming in the tent and she wouldn't look me in the eye.
“I'm going home to Sinnalix.” As I said nothing she went on: “Oh, I'm not deserting! Just that—well—I've some business.” Her eyes looked everywhere but at me. She was acting in a most shifty fashion.
“Very well, pigeon. Take who you like; but take a bodyguard.”
She took a pace forward and now she looked at me. I felt her gaze burning on me. “Thank you, cabbage. You are—kind.” That was not, I judged, the word she'd intended to use.
The order for the voller was quickly written and signed and Mevancy took herself off. I had a damned shrewd idea what that was all about. Poor Mevancy! Still, my plans for her remained. If she married Kuong after she returned from Sinnalix, and if we beat the Shanks, and when Satra died—well, who would venture to foretell the future? I relished the sound of Queen Mevancy, Empress of Walfarg. Yes, by Zair, I liked that!
Even so, I, Dray Prescot, a simple sailorman, could laugh at myself for all these extravagant notions of queens and empresses.
The expedition was quite small, half a dozen swift vollers crammed with my lads. Delia, of course, insisted on going along, and with her Nath Karidge and some of her Jikai Vuvushis. We flew north. There is little need to go into great detail. The Glitch Riders in general stuck to their own clans and only occasionally united under a nominal leader. The first encampment we visited was thrown into panic at our arrival. We dropped a few firepots on the desert as a hint of our power. Then I landed.
The local chieftain, after a thorough talking to, was happy to co-operate.
He pointed me in the direction of the encampment where lived the fellow they'd choose as their nominal leader. Following the same procedure we quickly had him eating out of our hands.
I said: “Chief Wan-fuong. There are greater enemies to fight than are to be found guarding the caravans. If your young men are the renowned warriors they claim—and I have thrashed them in my time—you will send them to join the warriors fighting the damned Fish Faces.”
He heard me out as I elaborated. He was a dignified old soul, no doubt with the blood of many and many a caravan guard staining his past. He took a deep breath and the mass of silver chains draped over his chest chingled and caught the lamplight in the tent.
He fingered a scar running down his cheek. Slowly, he said: “We are not so remote here that I have not heard of you. You may destroy our tents with your fire from the sky. We would fight you to the death—”
“Uselessly and to no purpose. The Shanks are all our foes.”
I saw that he was already in agreement but that he must be persuaded in order to maintain his pre-eminent position here. I persuaded him. At the end he nodded that desert-hawk face. “I will send our young men and we will fight alongside the paktuns of Queen Kirsty. It is agreed.”
Standing up, for I'd been sitting cross-legged on the carpet, I gave him a nice formal answer, and praised him and his warriors. Then I cleared off into the fresh air and observing the fantamyrrh climbed aboard the voller.
Chief Wan-fuong hadn't asked about pay for his young men. He was clearly perfectly satisfied they could look after themselves in the camp of their erstwhile enemies and victims. As for pay—the Glitchers were well-accustomed to taking what they wanted from the prostrate forms—dead or alive—of those they had beaten in combat.
I knew what Kirsty or Kuong or anyone of Tsungfaril would say at this turn of events. “Let the Glitch Riders and the Fish Faces kill one another, the more the merrier, Tsung-Tan rot ‘em all!”
All the same, I felt personally very pleased at the outcome of this spot of business. If this was a sample of what an Emperor of Paz could accomplish, the game might be well worth the candle. After the battle—always assuming we won—there would be a very great need for a whole fresh look at the situation. It might well be intractable; but, by Krun, we had to try to organize life in this part of Loh so that people could live freely.
Our little expedition turned for Makilorn. Towards the hour of mid a hail rang out from for'ard, the Kregish equivalent of: “Sail ho!”
Up in the bows that young scamp, Ensign Nalgre V'ron'v pointed. The dark shape of a voller sped south west on a closing course.
Now as to names in Kregish—well, Nalgre's family often wrote their surname as Vronv. No names on Kregen, contrary to some pig-ignorant critics, are unpronounceable. Here on Earth some of the ancients wrote only consonants and omitted all vowels. When reading you simply supplied the vowels as you went along. Two or three consonants in a string can easily be separated by the briefest little vowel sounds. Although Vronv is perfectly pronounceable as it stands, you can always say Veronev. Enough of that, by Krun!
We closed the other voller which was of Hamalese build.
The little craft did not waver or change course but bore on steadily.
Side by side we sailed on. From the staffs above our heads floated our flags. The Great Union of Vallia, Delia's personal tresh, my Old Superb, other standards denoting who was aboard. From the strange voller floated two banners I recognized.
A surge of exultation welled up in me. By Krun! This was splendid!
The Llahals rang across the gulf, the challenges, and from our side roared out: “Delia and Dray Prescot, Empress and Emperor of All Paz!”
The stentor might as easily have shouted Valhan instead of Prescot, either was correct. The answering shouts lifted my emotions, I can tell you, by Krun, yes!
“Kov Rees ham Harshur, Commander in Chief of the Hamalese Army!” and: “Kov Chido ham Thafey, Chief of Staff of the Hamalese Army here in Loh!”
Rees and Chido as ever were! I turned to Delia and she saw my face and she smiled. “Very well, Hamun ham Farthytu,” she said in a whispering voice, for I had long since told her of that real identity from Paline Valley. “Will they recognize you?” She put her head on one side. “And it is time, high time, we were properly introduced.”
“If ever there was a time, my love, it is now.”
“Yet—?”
The vollers sailed on side by side.
“And it is high time I told them the truth. Mind you, I intend to keep Hamun as a real identity, that is far too useful to throw away.”
“They will keep the secret—from all you have told me of them.”
“Also, it is in my mind to play them a trick. They caught me hopping in The Squish and Queng down there in Tuansmot. Now it is my turn!”
I yelled at the helmsman. “Lofty! Lay us alongside!”
“Quidang!”
O
ur voller edged closer, and Nudger the Bottom, the Ship-Deldar handling the ropes on the beam opened his mouth to yell. He'd roar out: “Coming aboard! Emperor of Paz!”
“Belay that, Nudger!” I snapped, very sharply. He gave me a look, then went on flicking his ropes in and out. “Just say: ‘Coming aboard.'”
I was wearing a simple fawn tunic and sandals in the heat of the desert, with rapier and main gauche and the Savanti sword. Heavy clobber is to be avoided in these climes when the slipstream hits you like a blast from the Furnace Fires of Inshurfraz. I handed the Krozair longsword to Delia, and she said: “Mind you invite them to dinner tonight.”
“Positively.”
Nudger yelled as ordered and with my hand up to my face I moved to the bulwark. Under cover of my hand as I faced outboard I changed my features into those of Hamun ham Farthytu. That face now was a trifle hardened from the one I'd assumed seasons ago in Ruathytu, changed as Chido's had changed, despite the fact that Kregans change so little and slowly over their span of years. Experience must leave its mark.
I leaped across onto the deck of the Hamalese voller.
They saw me and they gaped.
I bellowed out: “Well, you two famblys! Have you no greetings for an old comrade in arms?”
“Hamun!” and: “By Krun! Hamun!”
In the next instant we were clapping one another on the back and fairly dancing about the deck. This was all wonderful stuff and I joyed in it—and yet—and yet! Wait for the next act in the drama!
The voller lurched.
She staggered in mid air.
Instantly Chido sprang to the controls and then ripped the cover over the shaft to the silver boxes below. He straightened. His face betrayed it all.
“Black.”
All forward motion ceased. The airboat shuddered as though trying one last time to remain airborne. She dropped. Straight down she plummeted.
We fell through thin air towards the hard desert sands waiting hungrily below.
Scorpio Triumph [Dray Prescot #43] Page 16
