Alan Foster - The Icerigger Trilogy

“But we have done it only on such a small scale,” the wizard replied. “Still, I must agree with you. It may help.”

“What are you two babbling about?” asked Hunnar sharply.

“The great wizard Williams has shown me many things,” said Eer-Meesach, ignoring Hunnar’s lack of respect. “The crossbow of which your archers are so enamored, youngster, is the result of but one such thought. We have something else which may be of some use.”

“But I’m not sure how to apply it!” said Williams almost pleadingly. “We don’t have the proper facilities, or time, or anything!”

“Oh well,” sighed September, “let’s have a look at it, anyway. You never know.”

MANY OF THE PEOPLE in the city had been working double and triple shifts, day and night, but there was even more activity than normal in Wannome that night. If Sagyanak’s spies had been able to see inside the walls of the harbor, they surely would have been puzzled at the activity that filled the shoreline and enclosed ice. Vol-oil lamps and torches shed a cautious light on the scene.

They would have been even more puzzled at the strange activities taking place in certain crannies of the mountains, sections of dark abandoned countryside and old-town, and at the huge bonfires that shocked the main square with light.

In a room far up in the great castle keep, the war council of Sofold was meeting in heated discussion.

“I say ’tis far too dangerous!” one of the nobles exclaimed. He slammed a fist onto the thick table. “Tis too new, too alien. Tis not of us.”

“Nonsense!” countered Malmeevyn Eer-Meesach from his chair near the Landgrave.

“The crossbows are equally new and alien,” Hunnar riposted.

“They are not. They are but variations on our familiar longbow. But this… this is the work of the Dark One!”

“I’m not at all that dark,” said Eer-Meesach.

“Do not be flippant, old man,” snorted the noble. “I, for one, am not overwhelmed by your learned nonsense.”

“You’ll be overwhelmed, good sir,” admonished Hunnar, “if we fail to prepare for when that ram bursts into the harbor tomorrow!”

“Can it truly breach the great wall?” asked one of the knights disbelievingly.

“You have not seen it, Sutlej,” said General Balavere solemnly. “It will breach the wall. Unless it should hit at too acute an angle, and I think there is little chance of that. Though,” and he paused thoughtfully, “once the ram is moving, it would take a thousand men to correct or change its course.”

“If this new thing of yours does not work as you describe,” said the old mayor of one of the larger country towns, “we shall all fall into the center of the earth.”

“I keep telling you,” September began, but he halted, spreading his hands helplessly—they’d been through this very question twice a dozen times, already. “Sofold is as solid as the Landgrave’s throne, and more so.”

“All this may be true,” replied the old mayor, scratching the back of his neck, “but we have only your word for it. You ask us to believe a great deal.”

“I know, I know,” September said. “If we had more time… and this is the only chance I see.”

“Yet you say this will not stop the ram from breaching the walls.”

“No. There’s no way we can stop that thing. I don’t think they’d let another night expedition within a satch of the ram. But this may save us all, afterwards.”

“And if it should fail?”

“Then you’re welcome to whatever Sagyanak leaves of my corpse,” the big man finished.

“Fine compensation, fine satisfaction!” laughed the other hollowly.

“General?” The Landgrave looked over at his principal military adviser, thrusting the problem squarely onto his shoulders.

“This is the most difficult decision I have ever had to make,” the old soldier began. “More so even than the first decision to fight. Tis because there are questions here that go above mere military matters. I must go against everything I was taught about the world as a cub. And yet… yet… our strange friends have been right about so many things. And there is always the outside chance that they will align the ram improperly, or that the wind will shift on them and it will strike the wall at an angle and not breach, mayhap even miss completely.”

“Do not avoid me, Bal,” chided the Landgrave gently.

The two old tran looked at each other carefully. Then Balavere smiled slightly. “I wouldn’t do that, Tor. I recommend Sir September’s plan. I should like to see this thing he promises… even if we do all fall into the center of the world.”

“Let it be so, then,” pronounced the Landgrave.

All rose.

“By your Patience, gentlemen,” said September, “the wizard Williams and I must get down to the landings. We’ve a great deal to do ere the ice disgorges the sun.” He turned to Ethan. “Young feller, you’ll see to the assembly of the material?”

“Right away. Oh, du Kane wants to help, too.”

“Not really?” said September. “Well, take him with you, then. I can’t have the old bastard underfoot, but it’s encouraging to see him recognizing the real world, at last.”

But as he started off down the hall, Ethan found himself sympathizing with du Kane and not September. He knew the financier wasn’t useless, only a victim of culture shock and belief in his own omnipotence. He’d felt more than enough of similar emotions ever since they’d smashed into that first little island.

The wind from the west the next day was powerful and steady—perfect for the nomads’ needs. Ethan hugged the castle wall against the gale.

The great ram had been completed some time during the night and moved out of range of even the wizard’s telescope.

“Shifting it far enough to the west to get room for building speed,” Hunnar explained. “It will take that monster a dozen kijat just to build to raft speed.”

“I don’t know why they bother,” said September. “Even half that should be enough to knock down the wall.”

“With all respect, friend September, I suspect they desire not merely to knock down a section of wall, but to make a clean breach large enough to drive a good-sized raft through.”

“You don’t think they’ll try to come in on rafts, do you?” September asked. “Not that we could change things now anyway.”

“No. That would require skillful handling indeed. Even a few good-sized rocks could catch a raft, tumble it, and block the breach. As we might try to do. But individual warriors could get through despite such obstacles, and before we could bring up anything to block the gap.”

“Think not encountering something like that will make ’em suspicious?” continued the big man.

“Sagyanak, or Olox, or one like those might be taken by such thoughts. But I do not think those murderers so brave that they will be in the front line of attackers. The simple warrior will see naught but open ice between himself and the defenseless city. For animals like these, that is an irresistible temptation.”

“Let’s try that flasher once again,” suggested September.

“Very well.”

There were two of the brightly polished devices at their observation position high up on the castle’s south parapet, in case one should fail or break. September gave orders to the two operators.

“Tell Williams there’s still no sign.”

Immediately the skilled communicators had the flashers in operation. Side mirrors brought the sun into the central reflector. An answer was blinking at them from down in the harbor almost before they’d finished.

“They acknowledge ‘very good and waiting,’ Sir.”