Part 29 (2/2)

'A raid and forerunner to the invasion.'

'When will that occur?'

'If I knew that, Cryl-Nish, I wouldn't be wasting time listening to your inane questions.' He turned to his wife. 'Now that things are more secure, I'd like you and the children to go back to Kundizand.'

'No, Daddy!' cried Liliwen. 'Don't send us away again, please.'

Meriwen, normally conservative and responsible, supported her. 'We wouldn't feel safe without you, Daddy. And if you get hurt, you'll need us to look after you.'

'I'm not going to argue ' he began, but Yara laid a hand on his.

'Just a few more days,' she said. 'The enemy can fly across the sea to Kundizand in hours. We're safer here.'

'Oh, all right, but as soon as the chance comes ...'

'Of course,' she said.

The army slowly swelled as they travelled. Troist had begun to form it into fighting units, and as the news got around, soldiers appeared from everywhere. After ten days they had a force numbering three thousand, several hundred of them mounted, as well as a fleet of seventy-one clankers. Five more machines needed repairs before they could go into battle, and Nish worked long days helping the other artificers get them ready. He learned more about his trade in that short period than he had in his years at the manufactory. Many more clankers lay abandoned at the battlefield east of Nilkerrand, or in flight, but until operators could be found or trained, they were useless. Troist had done a wonderful job so far, though he was worried that the scrutators would not let him keep his command.

In the evenings Nish sat with Troist and another tactician, telling them all he knew, or had deduced, about constructs. Together they began to formulate tactics to attack the machines, tactics for defence, and plans for all kinds of contingencies. They worked until after midnight every night, each taking one side or the other and fighting imaginary battles in a variety of terrain.

This night, the twelfth since leaving the inn, Troist tossed his lead pieces aside before the midnight bell had struck. He rubbed red eyes, yawning.

'Games are all very well but they count for naught when the battle starts. Out there, we can't see what's going on after the first few minutes. Our messengers are slain, or the field simply changes so quickly that our orders are useless.'

'They don't make the kinds of mistakes we do in battle,' said the other officer, Lunny. 'It's as if the enemy can communicate with each other.'

'What if we were to send up an observer in a balloon?' said Nish. 'He could see the whole battle and signal us what was really going on.'

'Until the wind blew it away,' said Troist, 'or a flying lyrinx tore it open, which they would do at once.'

A messenger ran in, saluted and handed Troist a folded piece of paper. Troist read it, frowned and stood up.

'We will find out soon enough, gentlemen. A sizeable force of lyrinx are moving in our direction; many hundreds. We must prepare to do battle in the morning.'

He looked every inch a commander, though as his eyes rested on Yara, who sat up the back winding bandages, Troist stiffened. Tomorrow could see the brutal end of his family, but it was too late to send them to safety. Why hadn't he taken the chance while he had it?

PART THREE.

DIPLOMAT.

TWENTY-SEVEN.

Irisis woke with terrible roars and cries ringing in her ears. She felt her throbbing forehead, which sported a lump the size of a small potato. Lights, surrounded by haloes, danced along the corridor. They seemed to be moving closer. She rubbed her eyes, trying to see what they were, but they only separated into paired images.

She supported herself on the rock wall, struggling to recall what had happened. She had been on the eighth level of the mine. A lyrinx had come after her and Ullii had fled.

'Who ... are you?' Irisis said to the first pair of lights.

The scrutator chuckled. 'How quickly they forget.' Bending down, he whispered, 'It's your lover, Xervish Flydd, come to rescue you.'

'How did you know ?'

'Peate turned up with a story about you going off with Ullii into the forbidden section, so I came to find out why. We had just about given you up when Ullii hurtled out from a tunnel that isn't even on the map, crying for us to save you from the clawers. So here we are.'

'How did you manage it?'

'Mancer's secrets, crafter. Mancer's secrets.'

Taking her arm, he helped her to the lift, which was not far at all. Within the hour, Irisis was tucked up in bed with a cool compress across her forehead and a steaming bowl of willow-bark tea on the bedside table.

The scrutator took the map, which was still crumpled in her hand, and unfolded it. 'The seeker said something about good crystal. A big big crystal.' crystal.'

'I've marked it on the map, with a red circle.'

'Here?' He held the map out.

'That's where Ullii sensed it, but down at an angle. Like this!' She mimicked the gesture. 'The ninth or tenth level.'

He frowned. 'It had better not be lower than the ninth. We'll get started in the morning.'

That being miner's work, Irisis went back to her own, directing the twenty artisans and fifty prentices in the making of clanker controllers. Once a day Ullii was taken down to check that the miners were driving in the right direction. Irisis sometimes accompanied her. Working on the eighth level was perilous and slow. The miners were guarded by squads of soldiers with heavy crossbows, but they saw no further sign of the lyrinx.

They reached the ninth level, which was dry here, but found no crystal. Ullii still pointed in the same direction so they continued sinking the shaft towards the tenth. Water began to trickle into the workings and they had to bring in a pump, powered by two workers on a treadmill, to keep them dry. Below the tenth, the trickle would become an unstoppable flood.

A couple of weeks after Ullii's discovery of the crystal, Irisis woke to the familiar crash of a catapult ball against the wall of the manufactory. She was running to her station, up on the wall near the front gate, when the scrutator caught her by the arm.

'What is it?' she yelled, for already the racket was deafening.

'Take no risks!'

'I have to get to my post!' She tried to pull away but he did not let go.

'I mean it, Irisis. I can't replace you.'

'Plenty of women are prepared to warm the scrutator's bed!' she snapped, deliberately mistaking his meaning.

'Don't be a fool, crafter. I need you: to make controllers, to support Ullii and, most of all, to work with me on the node problem.' Nodding curtly, he let her go.

Irisis ran up the stairs, feeling guilty that she had not done better, but she could not make controllers without crystal. On the wall, crossbow in her hands, she soon forgot the scrutator's warning. In the light of the watch flares Irisis could see eight lyrinx, and from the clamour on the far walls, there must be just as many on that side.

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