The Fallable Fiend

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The Fallable Fiend Page 6

by L. Sprague DeCamp


  The hills of Ir fled beneath me, and then the coastal plain and the valley of the Kyamos. I flashed over Chemnis with its ships, out the estuary, and over the broad blue sea.

  League after league I sped, seeing nought but an occasional seabird and once a spouting whale. Then a cluster of black specks drew my regard. Soon they became a fleet. Long, sharp-ended ships they were, each with a single square sail bellying before a fair wind.

  I dropped down for a closer look. The decks were thronged with figures, quite different from Novarians. Most were utterly naked, while a few had fluttering cloaks loosely thrown about them. They were nigh unto black of skin, with mops of curly hair and large curly beards. Hair and beards varied from black to rusty brown. Black eyes looked out from cavernous eye sockets under beetling brow, and their noses were wide and flat, with no bridge.

  Madam Roska became more and more excited as I described what I saw. Then came an interruption. From the poop of the ship on which I was scrying came a scrawny old Paaluan, with white hair and beard. He held what looked like a human leg bone, and his eyes searched all about him. At last he seemed to stare at me from the depths of the gem. He shouted inaudibly and pointed his bone at me. The vision blurred and broke into dancing motes of light.

  When I reported this to Roska, she paced the floor of the oratory, chewing her nails. “The Paaluans,” she said, “are plainly bent upon bale. The Syndics must be warned.”

  “What do the Paaluans desire, madam?”

  “To fill their larders, that’s what.”

  “Mean you they are cannibals?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Tell me, my lady, what sort of folk are they? I understood that, on this plane, folk who went naked and ate other human beings were deemed primitive savages. Yet the Paaluans’ ships seemed well built and appointed—albeit I am no expert on such things.”

  “They’re no savages; in fact, they have a high civilization, but vastly different from ours. Many of their customs, such as public nudity and anthropophagy, we deem barbarous. Now, what’s to do? If I go to the Syndics, they’ll say I do but try to alarm them in hope of getting my seat on their board. Could you bear the news?”

  “Why, madam, if brought into their presence, I could tell them what I have seen. But I have no authority to demand the loan of their ears.”

  “I see, I see. We shall both have to do it. Summon my tiring woman.”

  Soon after, Madam Roska, clad for the street, called for her litter. But then a lady friend of hers sounded the door knocker. When this woman entered, there were cries of “Darling!” and “Precious!” The next I knew, the urgent mission to the Syndics was forgotten while the two women sat and gossiped. By the time the visitor left, the reflected sunlight was dimming and dinnertime approached.

  “ ’Tis too late to do aught today,” said Roska wearily. “The morrow will suffice.”

  “But, madam!” I said. “If these villainous wights from across the sea be but a few days’ sail from our coast, should not this news take precedence over all else? As is said on my plane, one nail in the cracked board eftsoons may save ten anon.”

  “Speak to me of it no more, Zdim. ’Tis a misfortune that Madam Mailakis chanced in at just that time, but I could not entreat her rudely.”

  “But—”

  “Now, now, Zdim darling! The subject is highly distasteful, and I would forget the whole sorry business in the pages of a book. Fetch from the library the copy of Falmas’ Love Eternal.”

  “Madam Roska!” I said. “I endeavor to give satisfaction; but—if I may speak freely—I really think you should convene your Board of Syndics forthwith. Else we may all perish, including your noble self. I should be remiss in my duties, did I not point this out to you.”

  “Dear Zdim! You are most thoughtful of my welfare. Awad! List the members of the Board and, after dinner, visit them. Tell them that tomorrow, at the third hour, I shall wait upon them at the Guildhall with urgent news.”

  ###

  At the meeting, Jimmon, the Chief Syndic, said: “Are you that demon from the Twelfth Plane that was indentured to Doctor Maldivius?”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “What’s your name? Stam or something?”

  “Zdim Akh’s son, sir.”

  “Ah, yes. Extraordinarily ugly names, you Twelfth Planers have. Well, Roska, what’s this all about, eh?”

  “Gentlemen,” she said, “you will recall that, last month, Doctor Maldivius sought to squeeze money from the Syndicate in return for news of a peril menacing Ir.”

  “I remember well enough,” said a Syndic. “I still think it was a bluff; that he had no such news.”

  “You know what a slippery character Maldivius was,” said another. “No wonder they made it too hot for him to stay in the city.”

  “Aside from all that,” said Roska, “I’ve learnt what the menace is, and Maldivius exaggerated not.”

  “Oh?” said several. They were a sleepy, bored-looking lot, most of advanced years and many fat. Now they sat up and showed signs of interest.

  “Aye,” continued Roska. “A powerful scry stone has lately come into my hands, and my servant has seen the menace approaching. Tell them, Zdim.”

  I described my vision. Some looked impressed; others scoffed: “Oh, come now, you don’t expect us to take the word of an inhuman monster?”

  The argument raged for an hour. At last Roska said: “Has any of Your Excellencies a talent for scrying?”

  “Not I!” said Jimmon. “I wouldn’t touch the stuff. Too much like witchcraft.”

  Others echoed the sentiment until an old Syndic, clept Kormous, said he had dabbled in the occult arts in his youth.

  “Then you shall come to my house instanter,” quoth Roska, “whilst Master Kormous undertakes the trance and tells you what he sees. Belike you’ll credit him.”

  ###

  An hour later, Kormous sat in the chair before the Sapphire, whilst the other Syndics stood around. He spoke in a muffled voice, but as he did so the skins of the others paled.

  “I—see—the—Paaluan—ships,” he mumbled. “They are—but a few leagues—from Chemnis. They—will make land—the morrow.”

  One by one, the Syndics dropped their incredulity. One said: “We must post-haste back to the Guildhall, to consider our next acture.”

  “No time; we’ll meet here,” said Jimmon. “May we use your withdrawing room, Roska?”

  As they filed into the room, Roska said: “At least, now you’ll not deny me my seat on the Board on the frivolous ground of my sex.”

  “No such agreement was made ere you warned us,” said Jimmon.

  “Marry me, Roska darling,” said a Syndic, “and you’ll be a Syndic’s wife, which gets you all the glory without the toil.”

  “Marry me,” said another, “and I’ll use my influence to get you your seat. ’Twould do no harm to have two Syndics in one family.”

  Another said: “I have a wife, but if the fair Roska would enter into an—ah—arrangement—”

  “Shut thy gob, thou vulgar barbarian!” said Jimmon. “You know Madam Roska is the most virtuous woman in Ir. Besides, if she entered into any such arrangement, ’twere with me, who am much richer than you. Now, what about the black cannibals, eh?”

  “If we hadn’t paid Zolon to send its fleet north against the pirates of Algarth,” said one, “their navy would make short work of the Paaluans.”

  “But we did pay,” said Jimmon, “and the Zolonian navy did sail, and ’twere hopeless to try to recall them.”

  “It wouldn’t have been, had you not taken so much time dickering with Maldivius,” said another.

  “A pox on you! I had to husband the taxpayers’ money,” said Jimmon. “Had I taken Maldivius’ first offer, you’d have had my scalp for wasting the Republic’s wealth. Besides, right or wrong, that’s over and done with. The question is: what to do now?”

  “Arm!” said one.

  “You forget,” said Jimmon, “that we sold our re
serve stock of arms to get the money to pay the High Admiral of Zolon for the Algarthian expedition.”

  “Oh, gods!” said one. “What sort of mercenary idiots . . .”

  And so it went for hours, with bitter recriminations. Each Syndic sought to cast the blame for the Republic’s unpreparedness on one of the others. When the day was well spent, the Syndics decreed the instant mobilization of the militia and commanded all men not under arms to betake themselves to the manufacture of weapons. They appointed the youngest of the Syndics, a financier named Laroldo, commander-in-chief.

  Laroldo said: “I am deeply sensible of the honor you do me, gentlemen, and I will try to merit your approval. First, however, may I suggest that we keep our proceedings secret until the morrow, at which time we shall publish our decrees and send a messenger to Chemnis to warn the Chemnites? I think Your Excellencies understand why.” He winked at his fellow Syndics.

  Madam Roska spoke up sharply: “Why the delay? Every hour is precious.”

  “Well, ahem,” said Jimmon, “ ’tis too late in the day to do aught useful. Besides, we would fain not excite the commons; a panic in this underground city were a dreadful thing.”

  “Oh, fiddlesticks!” said Roska. “I know what you’re up to. You mean to scour the markets and buy up all the food and other necessities, knowing that their prices will soar—especially if Ir be besieged. Shame on you, to take advantage of the people in this heartless fashion!”

  “My dear Roska,” said Jimmon, “you are after all a woman, even if a beautiful and accomplished one. Therefore you don’t understand these things—”

  “I understand well enough! I’ll tell the people of your plot to forestall and engross—”

  “I think you’ll do nothing of the kind,” said Jimmon. “This is an executive session, with full power to control the release of its proceedings. Anyone who wantonly reveals what takes place here, before official publication, can be mulcted of his entire estate in fines. And you, my dear, are much too delicate to be a scrubwoman. Do I make myself clear, eh?”

  Roska burst into tears and left the room. The Syndicate adjourned, and the Syndics gathered their cloaks and swords with unseemly haste. My tendrils told me that Roska was right; that they were frantic to get to the markets and shops ere they closed and ere rumors of the invasion sent prices up.

  Next day, the orders of the Syndicate were posted, and two messengers galloped off towards Chemnis. During the entire day, Ir was in a state of furious bustle. Somewhat over four thousand militiamen—all for whom arms were to be had—and the two hundred-odd Shvenish mercenaries were mustered on the flat beyond the Tower of Ardyman. They were put through a few simple drills and marched off down the road to Chemnis. They made a brave showing with banners fluttering and Laroldo the banker, in full armor, riding at their head.

  Another thousand or so remained behind on the flat, being drilled by old Segovian, the drillmaster. The youths drilled with staves and brooms until proper weapons could be found for them.

  Segovian was a stout bear of a man with a grizzled beard and a voice like thunder. He was the only man in Ir who gave much thought to military matters. The other Irians looked upon him as somewhat of an uncouth, blood-thirsty barbarian. They kept him on as a necessary nuisance, like firemen and collectors of waste.

  For over a century, the Republic had pursued a peaceful policy towards other Novarian nations. The Syndicate, the ruling body of the merchant aristocracy, devoted itself with single-minded acuteness to the amassing of wealth. Some of these riches were judiciously spent in hiring the navy of Zolon to ward the coast. Some went in bribes to other Novarian leaders, playing one off against another and dissuading them from combining against Ir. The policy had worked well enough with other Novarians, but the Paaluans bid fair to be foes of another kidney.

  V

  LAROLDO THE BANKER

  During this day of mobilization and bustle, I remained at Roska’s house to help her scry. For most of the day, however, this did us little good. The Paaluan wizards had become aware that they were being spied upon. No sooner should we get a fix with the Sapphire than their wizards would point their magical bones and spoil the picture. Therefore we had only brief glimpses of the foe.

  From time to time, we shifted our view to the port of Chemnis. We kept watching and hoping for the messengers from Ir to arrive; but, as far as we could see, the town pursued its normal business undisturbed.

  Late in the day, while watching Chemnis, I sighted a cluster of black specks on the western horizon. When I told Roska about them, she groaned.

  “Oh, gods!” she cried. “ ’Tis the man-eaters, about to descend upon the unarmed Chemnites and slaughter the lot. What delays our messengers?”

  “Distance, mainly,” quoth I. “Besides which, if I know you fickle Prime Planers, they’re as likely as not to have stopped off at a tavern and gotten drunk. Hold! I see something else.”

  “What is it? What is it?”

  “A man riding into Chemnis on a mule. Let me get a closer fix upon him. He appears old and bent, with long gray hair streaming out from under his hat; yet he lashes his beast to a canter. By the gods of Ning, it is my old master, the wizard Maldivius! Now I see him drawing rein as he passes a couple of Chemnites. He is shouting and waving his arms. Now he gallops on, to stop again and exhort the next passerby.”

  “At least the Chemnites will have received some warning,” said Roska. “If they believe his warning and flee at once, they may escape the stew pot.”

  “You Prime Planers never cease to amaze me, madam,” I said. “I had opined that Doctor Maldivius was too utterly selfish to be bothered with warning anybody of doom, unless the good doctor could extract a price for his information.”

  “As you see, he’s not an utter scoundrel. We seldom are, or utter anything else for that matter.”

  I continued to watch the port city. Evidently the first persons to whom Maldivius spoke disbelieved him, for they continued about their business as if nothing had happened. Little by little, however, his cries of warning began to take effect. I could see little clusters of people, standing about and gesticulating as they argued. Within an hour of the first warning, people began loading their goods into carts, or lashing them on the backs of beasts of burden, and taking the road up the Kyamos.

  Less than half the townspeople had taken to the road, however, when the Paaluan fleet appeared off shore. Then terror struck. The road became jammed with hurrying townsfolk, jog-trotting and stumbling away from their city. Some went empty-handed, others with one or two treasured possessions snatched up at the last instant. I had lost track of Doctor Maldivius.

  The Paaluan galleys swept into the harbor. Several drew up at unoccupied piers and quays. Paaluan soldiers dashed ashore and spread out, peering around corners as if they expected an ambush. Then whole companies disembarked, commanded by officers in feather cloaks of brilliant scarlet and yellow.

  From one ship, men led down the companionway a multitude of animals unlike any I had seen. They were large creatures, big enough to carry a man in a saddle. They had slender muzzles and long ears, like those of an ass, but there the resemblance ended. They had short, clawed forelegs, hugely developed hindlegs, and long stiff tails. They progressed by hopping on their hindlegs, holding those tails up to balance the weight of their bodies. Altogether, they were something like the small Prime Plane beast called a rabbit, but on a huge scale.

  As soon as the hopping beasts were ashore, the Paaluans who led them swung into the saddles on their backs and went bounding away, as swiftly as a horse can gallop. The last few Chemnites were just leaving the city, and the Paaluan cavalry caught up with some of these. Some simply rode down their victims and speared them with lances or hurled javelins into their bodies. Others whirled a device of cord and stones and threw it, so that it wrapped itself around the fugitives’ legs and felled them to earth, where they were swiftly secured and dragged back to Chemnis.

  It was now Madam Roska’s turn to
scry; but scarce had she obtained her fix when she screamed and covered her eyes. She became incoherent. To learn what had so terrified her, I had to go back into the trance myself.

  Down another companionway from a ship came a procession of even more formidable creatures. The Paaluans had trained several score of their dragon-lizards as cavalry mounts. Since a full-grown dragon often exceeded fifty feet in length, one could bear several riders in tandem.

  The driver bestrode the reptile’s neck. Behind him came six or eight others, seated in pairs on a kind of howdah. The usual complement was four archers and two spearmen. All covered their nakedness with a curious kind of jointed armor, made (I learnt later) of pieces of lacquered leather. Although not so strong as a good suit of steel, such as Othomaean knights wear, it was light and practical. Since one galley could accommodate only a small number of these lizards, the force was divided up among many ships. Because of the limitation of docking space, it took two full days to disembark the entire force, which outnumbered ours by perhaps two to one.

  Meanwhile, the Paaluans already ashore spread out and occupied the deserted buildings of Chemnis. The Chemnites whom the bouncing Paaluan cavalry had caught were slain, cut up, and prepared as food by salting or smoking.

  On the third day after the landing, the Paaluan army marched up the valley of the Kyamos, with mounted scouts and flankers thrown widely out to guard against surprise.

  Meanwhile, Roska’s house became practically an annex of the Guildhall, the Syndics coming in at all hours for news of what we had seen. Old Kormous spent many hours in the oratory, relieving Roska and me at our scrying.

  At the same time, word of the invasion swiftly spread throughout the Republic. As a result, peasantry and townsfolk stampeded from the rest of the nation into Ir City, which had the repute of impregnability. Hence the city became overcrowded, with people sleeping in the subterranean streets.

 

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