War of Powers

by Robert E Vardeman;Victor Milan

  The mayor nodded his understanding in the manner of those who don't really understand. He had heard of the disturbances in the Sjedd. Quite alarming. The Sjedd lay across the end of the Thails along the side of the Quincunx running between Brev and Thailot. Upheavals there always had a deleterious effect on trade. The military ramifications were beyond him.

  He knew little of military matters, but he did know that the count's twelve hundred, heavily armored dog riders from the Highgrass Broad constituted considerable force.

  'The Sky City goes overhead tomorrow,' he said slowly. 'You've doubtless heard the rumors, milord, that they plan to attack us. I've squelched such talk, to be sure, but still the rumors persist.'

  When the count said nothing, Irb persisted.'Do you think there's anything to it?' 'If they were to try it without substantial ground support, they would be foolish, indeed,' V'Duuyek said, his manner scornful.

  The mayor sat back, nodding with satisfaction. The Bilsinx militia wasn't large, but it was kept in reasonable practice battling brigands and occasional nomads drifting in from the steppes. The token Sky City garrison of two hundred dog riders and a score of flyers could be dealt with easily.

  'If the Sky City were to attack us, ridiculous as that seems - but if they did — your people would not idly sit by?'

  'My lord mayor,' V'Duuyek said, smiling thinly and smoothing one horn of his meticulously waxed moustache, 'should fighting break out, I quite honestly doubt I could keep my people out of it.'

  This satisfied the mayor, who bellowed out for more rakshak. With the problems of defense all solved, it was time for serious drinking.

  For once, Erimenes found nothing to carp about in Fost's choice of a destination. Even the spirit's obsessive appetite for sensation was almost glutted by the brawling, splendid bazaar that was Kara-Est.

  From its vantage point at the tip of the Gulf of Veluz, Kara-Est laid claim to being one of the great cities of the day. Younger and more vibrant than Medurim, earthier than the City in the Sky, possessed of an exuberance foreign to the staid merchants of Tolviroth Acerte, and vastly more cosmopolitan than her sister cities of the Quincunx, Kara-Est dinned her self-image into a visitor like an unceasing clangor of cymbals. Built on a cluster of hills that rose steadily as they marched inland, bounded to the northeast by swampland, and giving way to the steppes in the southwest, the seaport looked anything but prepossessing. Boxy homes clumped like hives on the hills. Each painted a different hue, they caught the morning sunlight and presented a chaotic impression. But after the initial shock wore off, the garish splashings of color assumed a curious harmony of their own.

  Like giant balloons, the ludintip of the Mires swamps floated lazily above the city, propelling themselves by venting gas through sphincters in their air bladders. The beasts had long been domesticated by the Estil. The Estil alone of all the Realm's inhabitants shared the dominion of the sky with the Floating City. The occasional contrivances of hoops and rings and cross-braced frames on the higher rooftops were engines for defense against attack from the air.

  Fost and Jennas rode in from the steppe side by side. With his usual lack of grace, Erimenes jounced along in his jug. A Northern stranger and a barbaric warrior woman from the south mounted on immense and fearsome bears would attract attention enough without a pale blue spirit hovering beside them like a friendly cloud.

  The sentries on the New Wall gaped at the newcomers as the bears rolled through the city gates. The guardsmen fingered crossbows. The barbarians from the steppes seldom penetrated to Kara-Est, but when they did they seldom came for peaceful reasons. Nonetheless, this pair seemed well enough behaved.

  To Erimenes' immense glee, Fost set a course for the waterfront district.

  'At last!' crowed the spirit. 'To visit the fabled fleshpots of Kara-Est! From anecdotes I've heard, the cultural demonstrations to be seen at Madam Tinng's, particularly those involving Highgrass Broad warrior-girls and their dogs, are most educational.' He chortled. 'I'm sure healths, hot-blooded youngsters such as yourselves will require no schooling from me in the full appreciation of Kara-Est's fabled vices.'

  Fost sighed. The philosopher, after giving up his ascetic principles on death, had settled into a perpetual adolescence. Since he lacked the physical equipment to sate his newly acknowledged drives, they grew constantly sharper all the time. Jennas eyed the satchel with more pronounced distaste than usual. Erimenes' mention of the fanciful displays put on by the warrior-maidens had touched a raw nerve. From the morning they'd set out, Erimenes had been suggesting a novel manner for Jennas to improve rapport with her bear. While the Ust-alayakits lived on terms of intimacy with their beasts, the kind of intimacy espoused by Erimenes was regarded by the nomads with acute horror. Jennas in turn had taken to proposing new and colorful ways in which Fost might dispose of his all-too-familiar spirit.

  'I thought you'd been to Kara-Est before, Erimenes,' said Fost, as they jogged down a cobbled street accompanied by the stares of the townsfolk.

  'Not so. I am always receptive to experience, even repeated experience. In my wisdom I've learned to eschew the young's insistence on novelty.' He sighed. 'Besides, when I came through here before I was in the charge of an acolyte mage from Duth. He'd taken some silly vow of celibacy and wouldn't sway from it. Were it not for your sterling example, Fost, I would sorely fear for the manhood of those from the north.'

  'I hate to damage your high opinion of me,' Fost said sarcastically, 'but we aren't going to be exploring the dives. We haven't time. And don't protest,' he continued over Erimenes' outraged cry, 'or I may reconsider Jennas's suggestion that we sell you to a merchant captain for a chamberpot.'

  The spirit shut up. Fost smiled. The verbal infighting helped take his mind off the three weeks he'd spent in the saddle - and Moriana.

  They climbed a hill, the bears' strong claws giving purchase on the ice-slicked cobblestones. Jennas gasped as the harbor came into view. They paused to take in the impressive sight, then rode down into the city's heart.

  For Jennas it was almost too much. She'd been briefly in small trading towns south along the Gulf of Veluz; Kara-Est was a hundred times larger than the greatest of those. Even Fost, raised in the Teemings, the stench-ridden and overcrowded slums of High Medurim, couldn't help being impressed.

  Bars and brothels, houses of gambling and houses of worship, government offices, warehouses, theaters, dwellings rich and dwellings shabby, all jostled each other around the wide sweep of the bay. Hundreds of ships rode at anchor in the largest harbor of the Realm. And with the ships came sailors from around the world: surly, shaggy traders from the Northern Continent; blond savages from the Isles of the Sun who powdered themselves with gold dust and were followed by gaggles of mute, drugged slaves; wide-eyed scholars of the Far Archipelago, their wan otherworldliness reminding Fost of the Ethereals of the Great Crater Lake; black merchant captains from hot jorea forced by the coming antarctic winter to supplement their usual garb of kilts and sandals with heavy fur cloaks.

  They tethered the bears to a hitching post in front of an establishment whose sign proclaimed it the Storm-Wrack Inn. Riding dogs whined and cringed away from the gigantic newcomers. A stout townsman started to protest. Jennas glared at him and hitched at the strap of her greatsword. He gulped, unhitched his mount, and rode off looking nervously over his shoulder.

  They went inside. Fost made his way to a hardwood bar with a gleaming rail of juggernaut fish ivory, ordered sack for himself, and with a shudder, amasinj for Jennas. The barkeep, a tall man with a glazed eye, took the order without comment. He didn't even comment when Erimenes demanded loudly to know when the indecent displays began. In a cosmopolitan town such as Kara-Est, not even disembodied voices emerging from jugs excited comment.

  Fost elbowed his way back to Jennas in time to be nearly bowled over by a sudden commotion. Yelping bar patrons shoved by him. In the space they left vacant, he saw Jennas pitching a bearded docker out the door. She turned away, dusted off her ha
nds with an air of satisfaction, and resumed her seat.

  'What was that all about?' he asked, handing over her mug. The lout wished me to kiss him,' she said, downing a slug of her drink that would have stretched Fost on the floor. 'I refused. When he persisted, I put him out.' Fost nodded. He'd never doubted the hetwoman was capable of taking care of herself.

  He sipped his own drink more conservatively. They hadn't come to the tavern to indulge Erimenes, who was now suggesting that a redheaded serving girl at a table nearby give into the importunings of a Northlander with checkered trousers and one hand on her rump. Fost was looking for information. He was certain Moriana headed for the Sky City. What he didn't know was its exact location.

  Jennas tensed at his side. He glanced at her, following her gaze. Across the table from them stood a tall, dark-skinned woman with the brassard of a Jorean sea captain encircling one arm. She was a handsome, robust woman with gray strands mingling with midnight curls. Her cloak dangled from her shoulders, revealing bare breasts, big and firm and gleaming like polished ebony. She stared with frankly sexual interest-at Jennas.

  'Ho there, missy,' she said, saluting the startled Jennas with a foaming jack of ale. 'You're quite a sight, and that's for certain. What say you you ditch this jocko and come with me? I've never seen a lass the likes of you.'

  Jennas's eyes went round. Clearly, she was uncertain she'd heard the mariner clearly - which Fost thought for the best. If she had, her next move would have been for the wire-wound hilt of the greatsword leaning against the stuccoed wall. The Jorean was no more the sheltered type than Jennas. She was as tall as the tribeswoman and carried the cutlass familiarly at her hip. Except for the fact she was bare-breasted while Jennas wore her mail, they looked well matched.

  She leaned forward, smiling widely. 'Well? What say you? I've a string of pearls on board my Wave-strider that'd ride right lovely around your throat.'

  'No, thank you,' Jennas said a bit unsteadily. 'Your offer is kind, but I'm happy where I am.'

  Fost looked at her in surprise. The mores of the Ust-alayakits being what they were, he'd expected Jennas to carve up the other woman for suggesting such a liaison. Later, he learned that such relationships, between two males or two females, were not unknown among the southern tribes; like other sexual matters, they were regarded as the private concerns of the participants.

  The captain shrugged and turned away, looking sad. 'Just a moment, captain,' said Fost. 'Have a seat and drink with us. We're new in town and would hear the latest news.'

  'You're a good sport, friend,' said the Jorean, cocking her head to one side. 'I'll say that for you.' She sat on a stool across from the pair. 'It would do me poor credit to spurn such generosity. Never let it be known that Captain Karlaya, mistress of the cog Wavestrider, ever turned down the invitation to drink.'

  'I'm Jennas, hetwoman of the People of Ust. My companion is Fost Longstrider. He's a Realm-road courier. We're pleased to make your acquaintance.'

  'A nomad chieftain and a road-rider, eh? I can pick 'em, that's for sure. Good for me neither of you took offense. Damn mainlanders squall so when a simple proposition is laid on 'em.' She eyed Fost more carefully. 'Aye, a good thing you took no offense. I know enough of this Realm of yours to know what a handful you can be.'

  'You might have introduced me,' piped up Erimenes peevishly. 'But then again, I can't expect reasonable behavior from you, Jennas. You proved that by turning down the captain's gracious offer. I'm sure she'd be much more stimulating company than this sluggard Fost.'

  'You wouldn't need a new slop jar, would you?' Fost asked the captain, who stared wide-eyed at the satchel.

  Fost explained Erimenes' clay-prisoned existence, there no longer being reason to keep his existence secret. Karlaya was fascinated by Erimenes and offered to buy him on the spot. For reasons he didn't fully understand, Fost turned down the generous offer. Erimenes did not seem upset at remaining with Fost. He might have been afraid the captain would put his jar to the use Fost had proposed.

  Fost bought another round of drinks. Eyeing the serving maid, Karlaya ordered amasinj. When it came, she tasted it, pronounced it unfit to drink, drained her mug, and ordered another. As she worked on the second mug, she related some rumors she'd heard.

  Mostly it was standard gossip, incomprehensible to Jennas and useless to Fost. Port Zorn was raising its harbor fees; the Emperor in High Medurim had decreed a new pleasure dome, the fourth of his brief reign; sundry border skirmishes occurred. When the captain mentioned the Sky City's unusual activity the courier pricked up his ears.

  'Is there any word of Princess Moriana?' he demanded. 'Surely, there is.' Karlaya mulled over a mouthful of drink as Fost fumed. She swallowed, studying the two. 'You look to know how to swing those swords of yours, so maybe this will interest you. You are looking for employment?'

  'What do you mean?' 'The Princess What's-her-name, she's in league with Darl Rhadaman of Harmis. They're recruiting mercenaries up in Tolviroth Acerte.'

  Snow drifted from a low-hung sky. An appearance of business as usual prevailed in Bilsinx as the City in the Sky floated in from the north. Mayor Irb stood on a balcony of his palace at the exact center of the Great Quincunx, the point over which mystic forces steered the City to a new destination.

  Despite his official insistence that nothing was to be feared, Irb had mobilized his city's militia. Afraid that an obvious show of force might provoke an unfortunate response, in the air or on the ground, he had ordered many of his troops to remain under cover in the government buildings around the center of the town. The rest mingled with the crowds - merchants, dockers, casual shoppers, and the curious who thronged the cruciform Quincunx Avenues that followed the possible lines of the City's flight.

  Titanic fungus-shaped balloons sprouted from the City even before it passed the northernmost walls of Bilsinx. Irb nodded, reassured. He had dreaded the possible explosion of eagle's wings from the Sky City's battlements. The appearance of the familiar, harmless, cumbersome cargo craft was anticlimactic.

  The wind streamer dropped from the City's forward piers, a weight dragging a long orange banner behind to tell the Sky Citizens how the wind lay so they could guide their balloons with the least difficulty.

  Messengers materialized at Irb's elbow. The barracks of the Sky City garrison had been discreetly surrounded. If anything was tried, the birdsmen would have no support from the ground. And word came from the camp of the Highgrass Broad mercenaries east of town that they were saddling and arming. In case of real trouble, Irb could expect rapid reinforcement from a well-trained cavalry.

  The wicker gondola of the lowest balloon bumped cobblestones. The waiting crowd surged forward, handlers reaching for line to dog the balloon to earth. The gondola's side fell away.

  Someone screamed shrilly. An instant later, a barrage of arrows burst from the knot of men standing beneath the balloon. The crowd stood stunned. Another volley and frightened townspeople began to run.

  Irb gestured frantically. A company of dog cavalry issued forth from the gate of the Palace of Just and Perfect Governance and headed for the outbreak. Elsewhere along the north-south axis of the city, balloons touched down, disgorging their lethal cargo.

  And now the dreaded wings of the Sky Guardsmen gripped the sky. Like malevolent spores, the birds dropped from the City, streaking down to preselected Bilsinx targets. Irb shrieked orders to his personal bodyguard. A hundred eagles dived straight for the ramparts of the palace itself!

  In the Sky City, commands were shouted to waiting work gangs. Muscle was applied to levers, and heavy stones that had been hauled up from the surface were jacked over the side. Trajectories calculated by City mathematicians, the missiles fell in advance of the landing parties, smashing against pavement to send lethal shrapnel whistling in all directions. Fleeing citizens were shredded by the fragments. Another rock landed on the lead elements of the column riding from the palace. The commander was killed instantly and the remaining dog troopers sc
attered.

  Wounded dogs wailed. Women shrieked. Men fell gurgling with arrows through their throats. The bird riders swept low, shooting indiscriminately into the panicked mass below. The soldiers Irb had ordered interspersed with the mob died where they stood, unable to form any effective fighting force.

  But resistance did gather in the Central Square. Footmen with shields and short spears poured from nearby buildings. Dog riders loped to join them, their mounts baying bloodlust. The Bilsinx cavalry were mainly unarmed bowmen equipped to meet the threat of mounted brigands. Their bows sang and arrows arced skyward. Infantry bowmen guarded by their comrades' shields added their missiles to the defensive barrage.

  The leading Sky City men died screaming. Shots from the ground did not need to reach riders. Transfixed, eagles plummeted like giant snowflakes, their riders cast helplessly down to smear the cobbles with their lifeblood. A wounded eagle fluttered near the cube-shaped palace as though trying to land on the roof. Two-score arrows feathered its rider as he cast a javelin in pitiful defiance.