Part 16 (1/2)

The captain scowled, for military matters were his province and to be pa.s.sed over in this way was a deliberate slap in the face. Knowing better than to show it, Gir-Dan composed his features. The scrutator was not a forgiving man.

Tuniz smiled. Her filed teeth made the gesture threatening though she was, by nature, cheerful and friendly.

'The enemy have come out of the ranges all along the coast, surr. As you may have seen, Tiksi has been attacked and badly damaged.'

'We've been down there,' Flydd said flatly. 'It's bad, but they're holding out.'

'Then your news is more recent than mine, surr. There have been attacks on most cities between here and Gosport. Maksmord is likely to fall; Guffeons is sorely pressed. We don't know as much as I'd like; the enemy are targeting skeets now and some messages have not come through. I have the despatches here.' She held out a leather wallet. 'Some are for your eyes only.'

The scrutator took out the papers, riffled through them and sorted them into two piles. He began to read the pile at his right hand. No one spoke for the ten minutes it took him to finish.

Flydd cleared his throat. 'It is worse than I thought. The enemy now hold most of the lands about the Dry Sea, save for Crandor. The mountains of Faranda are theirs, though not the lowlands, and some of the arid lands north of the Great Mountains. And of course Meldorin fell last year, save for the southern peninsula. Thurkad was a crippling loss. We still hold the east coast, the fount of our wealth, central Lauralin and everything south of the Great Mountains. But the east coast is in peril now, and with the Aachim flooding across Lauralin ... Well, we shall see about them in due course.'

He set his jaw and eyed them one by one. All broke under his glare, save Irisis. 'We will never give up, not even if all we have left is desolate Luuma Narta. Anything else, overseer?'

'We will meet our target again this month, surr, or better. Three clankers, I'm pleased to say.'

'Very good. Crafter Irisis?'

Irisis also stood out in the manufactory. She was tall, though not as tall as Tuniz, but with pale skin, bright blue eyes and hair as yellow as b.u.t.ter, a sight few people here had seen before her arrival. She had a breathtaking figure, which meant that, despite the shortage of males, she could take her pick. Irisis had been Nish's lover at one stage, though by the time of his departure that had changed to an abiding friends.h.i.+p.

As crafter, she was in charge of the artisans who made controllers for the clankers built here. Twenty artisans now worked to her direction, and fifty prentices. Because their work was so fine, completed controllers were being s.h.i.+pped to other manufactories.

'We have also exceeded our target,' she said. 'We've built eleven controllers this month ...'

'But?' snapped Flydd. 'What is the problem, crafter? Remember you are on probation.'

'I could hardly forget it, surr!' Irisis stood up to everyone, and sometimes it got her into trouble. 'The problem is crystal. We've used up almost all we have and the miners can't find more. And since Ullii went away ... We need the seeker to sense it out. I'm told you brought her back, surr?'

'I did, but I'm not sure what use she will be. She has suffered a considerable trauma and lost her talent.'

'Lost it?'

'It may come back. The healers are looking at her now.'

'This is bad, surr. How can I find the crystal I need?'

'I've no b.l.o.o.d.y idea. Discover a way.' He turned to the first of his foremen.

'One more thing, surr, if I may.' Irisis was unaccountably tentative.

'What is it?' the scrutator snapped. 'I've got a war to win, crafter.'

'What ... happened to Nish, surr?'

'We lost the d.a.m.n fool!'

'Is he dead?' she whispered, rod-straight and hands clenched by her sides.

'Almost certainly. Maybe Ullii can tell us, if she gets her lattice back.'

'She can't.'

'What?'

'Ullii can only see the Secret Art, and Nish has no talent.'

'Useless fellow. He'll be no b.l.o.o.d.y loss. M'lainte can tell you the tale, when our important business is done.'

Irisis joined the mechanician in the refectory afterwards, and over bowls of cabbage soup M'lainte told her what had happened.

'Scrutator was practically in tears,' said the mechanician, slurping from her bowl, 'and that's a sight I've not seen in the thirty years I've known him. Nish did well, notwithstanding that he did not recover the crystal nor get Tiaan back. A boy left us a month ago. At Tirthrax I saw a man, transformed.'

'And now he's dead!' Irisis said bitterly. Despite their many fights, little Nish had been good to her and he was the only man she really cared about.

'You never know. I've got work to do.' M'lainte stood up abruptly.

Irisis remained where she was. She had work to do as well, but her workshop was running smoothly and she needed to think. The loss of Nish changed everything.

Many people had died in the war. Very many men. The population was falling and it was the duty of everyone to mate and produce more children. Irisis had done that duty eagerly, with a number of partners, but so far without result. She had considered bonding permanently with Nish, but that would never happen now. There would be pressure on her to take another partner. For the first time, Irisis found the idea unappealing.

'Done all your work, crafter?'

She jumped, for the scrutator had come up behind her without a sound. 'Sometimes I just need a quiet place to think.'

'I have to talk to you.'

'I'm listening.' She reached for her bowl of ginger and lime tea.

'Not here here. Come outside.'

They went through the front gate and Flydd turned right. Irisis had expected him to go left, down in the direction of the crystal mine. She walked beside him up the path, under the aqueduct and towards the tar mines, where fuel was obtained for the furnaces. They lay four hours up a steep path. Irisis hoped he was not planning to go all the way.

After labouring up a steep incline, the scrutator turned left and settled onto an upthrust boss of pale rock, a d.y.k.e that ran across the slope like a series of k.n.o.bs on a backbone. 'Sit down, crafter.'

She perched beside him. 'If this is about my work, surr ...' Had he learned the terrible truth about her, that she had lost the most crucial talent an artisan could have the ability to draw power from the field? That to cover it up she'd become a liar and a fraud, despite her undoubted ability to manage her team of artisans.

'I'm happy with your work, Irisis.'

She relaxed, just a little. Some day she would be exposed, but not today. 'What is it, surr? Something to do with the war?'

'Everything is to do with the war, crafter!' Flydd snapped. 'There's a problem that I didn't wish to bring up, in there. People talk, despite themselves.'

'I don't!' don't!'

'You already know something about it. Do you recall a time, some months back, when a vital node went dead, stranding fifty clankers on the plain of Minnien?'