Tetrarch twoe-2

by Ian Irvine

  ‘The one inland from Fadd we found to be completely dead. There was not the least trace of a field.’

  ‘No news there,’ said a short man with a black spade beard and a cross-shaped bald patch at the top of an ovoid head. Snake eyes glittered. ‘You’re not telling us anything we don’t know, Ex-Scrutator Flydd.’

  ‘I’m giving a damn sight more than you ever have for your councillor’s badge, Fusshte!’ said Flydd, so vehemently that the short man drew back. ‘It was at Fadd that Crafter Irisis made the breakthrough. Tell them, crafter.’

  ‘I merely wondered,’ said Irisis, ‘that if a node-drainer was at work, what was happening to all the power it drained. Wherever that power was going, there had to be proof of it.’

  ‘Ahhh!’ sighed Halie. ‘So I was right after all. They do have a node-drainer.’ She cast the others a bitter glance. ‘Had the Council listened, we might have solved this problem years ago.’

  ‘We hear a dozen crack-brained ideas every week,’ said Ghorr. ‘And without evidence, that’s all they are. Get on with it, crafter.’

  No one interrupted as Irisis told her story, after which the Council questioned her. The process was calm and measured, yet Irisis knew she was being weighed by eleven of the sharpest minds on Santhenar. And not just her words. Every flicker of her eyelashes, every drop of sweat on her brow, was evidence in their interrogation.

  And all were mancers. All were probing her with the strange version of the Art that was scrutator magic. The waistband of her pants was soaked with perspiration by the time Ghorr signed that they were done. And, to her relief, he seemed satisfied that what she had said was true.

  Flydd resumed his tale. ‘Finally, we went back to Irisis’s manufactory to inspect the node, which lies deep in the hedron mine.’

  ‘That was a foolhardy deed,’ said Halie.

  ‘But essential. That node was already weak –’

  ‘So Jal-Nish has told us,’ said Ghorr, ‘because you failed to protect it from the enemy.’

  ‘I believe that has already been covered in despatches,’ said Flydd.

  ‘Not to my satisfaction.’

  ‘As soon as we started to sense the field it went dead. As if someone had been watching and turned it off.’

  ‘Is that all?’ cried Fusshte.

  ‘We could find no node-drainer there either,’ said Flydd. ‘Then Jal-Nish –’

  ‘Jal-Nish was at the node?’ someone cried.

  ‘He, er, interrupted us,’ said Flydd. ‘Jal-Nish asked the seeker a most interesting question. He asked her if she could see the field of the node. Tell the Council what your answer was, Ullii.’

  Ullii had been sitting so quietly, hunched up into a little ball, that she was practically invisible. Now she unfolded, gave the assembled scrutators a frightened glance, and said in a wispy little voice, ‘I could see all sorts of fields.’

  ‘Fields?’ cried Ghorr. ‘Explain, seeker.’

  ‘The node had four fields,’ she said, mimicking his voice. She had not done that in ages. ‘There was a weak one that people called the field, but it was dead. The clawers had drained it all away.’

  ‘“Clawers” means lyrinx,’ said Flydd obsequiously.

  ‘Don’t treat us like fools!’ said Ghorr. ‘Go on with your story, seeker.’

  ‘There were three more fields, like walls going through each other. They were very bright.’

  ‘The strong forces,’ breathed Ghorr. ‘At last! Have you seen such forces before, Ullii?’

  ‘Yes,’ she exhaled.

  ‘Where?’

  ‘I can’t remember.’

  Ullii was looking distressed and Irisis knew why. No one had thought to ask her the question, but she dared not give that answer.

  Irisis took the seeker’s hand. ‘Ullii,’ she said kindly, ‘what you know about these fields may be vital. Please think where you might have seen them before.’

  ‘I saw them at the cold place where I helped you – where there was an evil node.’

  ‘Up on the icy plateau near the manufactory? When we were trying to get Tiaan back from the lyrinx?’

  ‘Yes,’ Ullii whispered, darting anxious glances at the Council.

  ‘Were there also four fields?’

  ‘I think so. The evil node was double. I could not see it clearly.’ Her voice was barely audible.

  ‘If these are the strong forces, why does she not see them all the time?’ said Fusshte.

  ‘Perhaps the weak field obscures them,’ said Flydd. ‘That would explain why she, and the artisan Zoyl Aarp, only saw them after the node was drained.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ said Ghorr dubiously. ‘We must investigate this further.’

  He questioned the seeker at length, but learned no more. Ullii simply saw; she did not understand.

  ‘I then asked Ullii if she could see what was draining the manufactory node,’ said Flydd. ‘She told us that the drainer was not far away, up the tunnel beyond a roof fall, no doubt caused by the enemy. We found it. Rather, we discovered where it was, though it was not possible to get to it. It was a most strange place; the fabric of matter did not hold there. Jal-Nish fell right into the floor. The rock could not hold him up.’

  ‘Fascinating,’ said Ghorr. ‘A marvel, should it prove to be true! What happened to the acting scrutator?’

  ‘He survived,’ said Flydd regretfully, ‘though I’m not sure if all his troops did. He was not a happy man when we left him.’ He looked toward the entrance. ‘I imagine that will be his despatches now.’

  A messenger was hurrying out through the great doors, carrying a sealed skeet packet. Ghorr tore it open and scanned the contents, before passing it to the Council.

  ‘It would appear to confirm the last part of your story,’ he said, ‘though Jal-Nish takes the credit for it and accuses you … Leave us for the moment, Flydd.’

  Flydd, Irisis and Ullii strolled on the edge of the precipice, but shortly were called back to the steps.

  ‘We have accepted your account,’ said Ghorr, ‘and thank you for bringing it to us.’ He did not look pleased to be saying it. ‘The Council has voted and, despite several … er, irregularities in your behaviour, agreed to restore you to your position as scrutator, though not to the Council, of course.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Flydd, bowing to each in turn. ‘And Jal-Nish? Does he keep his?’

  ‘The acting scrutator’s service has been satisfactory. He maintains that rank.’

  Flydd was impassive, though it must have been a blow. While Jal-Nish had any authority at all, he would work to bring Flydd down. ‘As the Council pleases.’

  ‘I have not finished. The war is coming to a head in the west. The lyrinx are gathering their strength, across the Sea of Thurkad, for a mighty strike – one we cannot resist. We have two choices: to abandon everything west of Worm Wood, or to make our stand now.’

  ‘We cannot abandon Almadin, Rencid and Taltid,’ said Flydd. ‘A million people dwell there, plus most of the refugees from Meldorin. Besides –’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Even if we did draw the line at Worm Wood, we could not hold it. Nihilnor must fall and Oolo soon after, and within months the whole south-west will be gone. Once that happens, not even the might of Borgistry could stand alone. And if the west is lost, the rest of Lauralin must follow.’

  ‘Indeed,’ said Ghorr. ‘We must make our stand and make it soon. Even so, we are looking at a crushing defeat unless we can convince the Aachim to aid us.’

  ‘Then that must be our primary objective,’ said Flydd.

  ‘It is,’ Ghorr replied, ‘but Vithis of Clan Inthis is a most recalcitrant man.’

  ‘Where is he now?’

  ‘His forces are spread through Almadin, Nihilnor and Borgistry. To the discomfiture of their citizens, it need not be said. His plans for conquest, if that is what they were, appear to be on hold. There is dissension among the Aachim clans which we are hoping to exploit.’

  ‘And the cause of this
disagreement?’ said Flydd.

  ‘Longstanding clan rivalries, as well as a dispute about their course of action.’

  ‘Please elaborate.’

  ‘Some clans wish to ally with us against the lyrinx, others to take advantage of our present discomfort to seize our best lands for themselves. One or two clans argue that the Aachim cause would be better served by taking the lyrinx side.’

  ‘Does any viewpoint look like prevailing?’

  ‘I cannot say. It is difficult to gain reliable intelligence. But Vithis, as leader of this uneasy coalition, is the key. Presently he has a different agenda, which is why the Aachim have put the invasion on hold. He has sent his entire force after Artisan Tiaan and the flying construct.’

  ‘Ah, yes, the flying construct,’ said Halie. ‘If we had a dozen of those we would win the war.’

  ‘No doubt Vithis feels the same way.’

  ‘We’d better hope he doesn’t find it,’ said Flydd. ‘If we do attack, where will the battle for the west be fought?’

  ‘There is a place called Snizort, in Taltid,’ said Ghorr.

  ‘I know of it,’ said Flydd.

  ‘It is the enemy’s greatest stronghold on our side of the sea, and where they carry out all sorts of … experiments. Snizort also has some kind of mystical significance to them, though we have not discovered what it is. If we could take Snizort it would be a great blow to the enemy. We’ve been working on a plan to do that.’

  ‘What is it?’

  Ghorr drew Flydd away from Irisis’s hearing. ‘The lyrinx have dug a great system of tunnels into the stone surrounding the tar pits and seeps of Snizort. The area is walled and heavily defended, but the locale has a natural vulnerability –’

  ‘To fire!’ said Flydd. ‘You plan to set fire to the tar seeps and burn the lyrinx out, straight onto our spears and javelards.’

  ‘Just so.’ Ghorr showed his irritation. ‘But it will not be easy, even with a mighty army. To get close enough to bombard them with flaming catapult balls will take every man of the sixty thousand we can muster in the west, and the seven thousand clankers that support them. And even that may not be enough. The lyrinx know how susceptible Snizort is, yet they continue to expand it. It does not make sense.’

  ‘Unless it’s so vital to them that it’s worth any risk. In which case they probably have secret defences,’ said Flydd.

  ‘I don’t suppose there’s any chance of using air-floaters to attack the place?’

  ‘They can’t carry enough weight to be useful in an attack. And they’re too vulnerable.’

  ‘I thought as much.’ Ghorr walked away, then came back. He seemed more tentative now.

  ‘You want something of me?’ said Flydd.

  Ghorr was staring at the paving stones. ‘Your coming is, er, at an opportune moment. The news you bring, even more so. We have a problem. Rather, a fatal flaw in our plan.’

  Flydd waited for him to go on.

  ‘The node at Snizort appears to be weakening,’ said Ghorr.

  ‘Snizort has one of the greatest of all nodes. That doesn’t make any sense.’

  ‘Unless they are drawing more from the field than the node can replenish. If so, what are they doing there? Nothing to our advantage, you can be sure.’

  ‘Or they may have a node-drainer in place,’ said Flydd.

  ‘Why would they drain their own node?’

  ‘To siphon power directly, for other purposes. Snizort is known to be a centre for flesh-forming. Perhaps they’re flesh-forming an army there.’

  ‘We may suppose any outlandish idea at all, but it won’t help us to win the war. We’ve been planning this assault for months. It was to be the greatest battle of the war, but without a secure field to drive our clankers we dare not move. We’ve discussed this and …’

  ‘You want me to go there?’ said Flydd. He did not look surprised.

  ‘As soon as the buoyant air in your floater can be replenished. You will take charge and find out what is happening at the node. Base yourself at Gospett. We have people there. Halie will give you the details. Your main task, which is more vital than all others, will be to make contact with Vithis and bring the Aachim into the war on our side.’

  Flydd nodded. ‘At any cost?’

  After a long silence, with Ghorr consulting his colleagues, he said, ‘Yes, at any cost, if there is no other option. You must use your discretion. Don’t give up our –’

  ‘I will give away nothing but what it takes to secure the alliance,’ said Flydd. ‘What else do you require of me?’

  ‘One more task,’ said Ghorr. ‘If the enemy have put a node-drainer in place …’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Find it, and destroy it.’

  Five simple words, so easy to say, but they were his death sentence. No human could get into such a heavily guarded place – Ghorr knew that as well as he did. It was Ghorr’s revenge, and it was perfect. Destroying the node-drainer was vital to the war and the chief scrutator had given a direct order. Flydd could not refuse.

  He looked into Ghorr’s eyes. The man hoped he would refuse, so he could dismiss him as a scrutator. A death sentence either way. Flydd was not going to give him the satisfaction.

  ‘If I destroy the node-drainer, if there is one, they will simply replace it.’

  ‘If they were easy to make, the lyrinx would have dealt with every node on the planet by now. Since they’ve only attacked five or six, we must assume that’s all the devices they have.’

  ‘Assumptions are perilous things,’ said Flydd.

  ‘Destroy it!’ said Ghorr.

  ‘That may be … difficult.’

  ‘I’m sure it will be, but we all have our duty to do and it is frequently difficult. If you are having second thoughts; if you don’t have the courage –’

  Flydd’s eyes met those of Irisis. She read nothing there.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘I will take it on, surr.’

  Ghorr smiled for the first time. Prominent teeth gave him the look of a hyena. ‘Good. We’ll have dinner inside, brief you fully and then it will be time for you to go. But not you, Irisis. You and Ullii will stay behind.’ His smile broadened. ‘There is much you two can teach us.’

  Ullii gave a terrified squawk and scuttled under Irisis’s arm.

  FIFTY-ONE

  The seeker had been escorted to her own room, away down the other end of Nennifer from Irisis’s. It was a cold, shabby little place, suited only for the lowest of servants. That did not bother Ullii, for she took no account of her surroundings. It had a door that kept the sound out, and that was all she cared about. It allowed her to take off the earmuffs she wore everywhere. They were as comfortable as human ingenuity could make them, but still irritated her.

  Ullii undressed and washed in a bucket of cold water. She rinsed her spider-silk undergarments, carefully spread a clean set on the bed and lay down on them. She could not bear anything else against her skin. Closing her eyes, she retreated to the security of her mental lattice, a matrix in which she tried to fit all the world within range of her strange talent.

  Security would not come. Nennifer was not a pleasant place. It had whole floors of mancers, artisans, artificers and other craft workers, all labouring on devices for spying, control, domination or war. They created such aggressive knots in her lattice that Ullii had to build walls around them, for her own sanity.

  And now the scrutator was being sent away. Despite the grudge she held against Flydd for forcing her to search for crystal, months ago, Ullii relied on him. He had been a friend, before he was mean to her. He was still her protector and treated her more kindly than anyone ever had, except her beloved Nish. But Nish was lost and now the scrutator was going away. She relied on Irisis too, but Irisis was being held by wicked Scrutator Ghorr, who was surely going to do something dreadful to her. Who would look after Ullii then?

  Who had ever looked after her? In all her previous life, only old Mancer Flammas, who had put her in his dungeon and for
gotten all about her. She still thought kindly of him for that. In the cool dark she had found peace from the noise, the sight and smell of humanity, not to mention the world that had so tormented her. In his dungeon no one had troubled her. They gave her food and drink, hosed out her cell at intervals, and left her be.

  But that had changed one day when she was sixteen. She had disturbed something unpleasant in her lattice, began to scream and Flammas remembered her. Jal-Nish Hlar took her away and the nightmare of the world resumed. He had treated her kindly at first, though only because he wanted to use her talent. She knew what he was really like. She could read the knot he made in her lattice all too clearly.

  Ullii’s thoughts went back to the years before Flammas’s dungeon: that terrible time, beginning just before she was four, when something had woken her hypersensitivity. Life had become such a nightmare that her family, unable to understand what the matter was, or beat it out of her, had cast Ullii out.

  She had always avoided thinking about that time. Ullii had blanked it out. Her family had rejected her. And even before that she had been abandoned …

  Ullii drifted into sleep, still thinking about her childhood. She had been happy once, when she was young, but a family crisis had swept it away. She did not know what the crisis had been about, only the consequences. It had been just before her fourth birthday. One day her beloved twin brother, Myllii, had been there. The next day he, and her father, had gone. She never saw either of them again. She missed her father, but words could not describe the loss of Myllii. It was like having a limb torn off.

  A week later, an irritating inflammation of the skin had covered her whole body. She screamed with the torment, fell ill, sank into a coma and lay near death for a fortnight. Ullii came out of it unable to talk or walk. Everything had to be learned again. Before she recovered, the sensitivity began to appear. She remembered that with jewel-like clarity. It had begun with loud voices. Everyone seemed to be shouting all the time, and the shouting grew louder and louder until it hurt her. Every time someone spoke, she screamed. Her mother beat her, her brothers and sisters and aunts shouted at her, but she only screamed louder.