Michael Stackpole - The New World

Pravak’s silver smile twisted his thin lips. “In Tolwreen, these mechanicals shaped many things, but we had not made them autonomous. Borosan Gryst appears to have made that possible. We were able, in the first month, to decipher what he had done. Then we surpassed it.”

Nelesquin frowned. He’d not been informed that they had gone beyond creating automatons. Annoyance surged through him. He could still guide the project. Even if this meant it took years in the pocket world, the citizens of Moriande would only have won a week or two of respite.

“Show me, please.”

Pravak led the way through the factory. “It was your brilliance, Highness, that allowed us to make this breakthrough. You see, Borosan Gryst inscribed instructions for the automatons on thaumston — alloy slates. Thaumston provided the magical energy and channeled it into specific tasks. The automatons, however, were limited in their actions because they had a limited number of strategies to choose from.”

“I understand, but I had nothing to do with that.”

“No, Highness, your brilliance was in how you created the Durrani. They cannot use magic as we do, but it is as if they are living thaumston.” Pravak pushed another door open. “And with all they know, they are able to do much more than any automaton.”

The door opened onto an enormous arena. Below, on the sandy arena floor, two dark steel bears circled, fully three times Pravak’s height when they reared up. Metal flesh moved fluidly over muscles, and paws blurred as they flicked out toward an enemy.

Nelesquin forced himself to breathe calmly. Never have such weapons walked the earth. “Explain what these are.”

“Your Durrani have called them dari. The Durrani drive them from within, fully protected and very powerful.”

“ Dari, of course. It means fierce in their tongue.” Nelesquin’s eyes narrowed. “What determines the shape?”

“It is what we have chosen, Highness.” Pravak smiled. “We chose to honor Quun and Erumvirine.”

“Splendid.” Nelesquin glanced at Kaerinus. “What do you think?”

“Impressive, though they lack in one regard.” The vanyesh opened a fist and a butterfly rose from it. It beat its wings twice, then disintegrated into jeweled dust. “They’re not terrifying.”

“You’re right.” Nelesquin pointed at the bears. “They need to be nastier. Make them man-shaped, with animal’s heads and paws.”

Pravak nodded. “You are wise, Highness.”

“Craft for them suitable weapons. Clubs and axes.” Nelesquin frowned. “How vulnerable are they?”

“They are not invulnerable, but neither are they easy to kill. Sink one in a river, the pilot will drown. A ballista can drive a bolt through him or a big stone will crush him. Fire will roast the man inside.”

“Yes, yes, all risks to be avoided.” Nelesquin smiled. “Can others use them?”

Pravak’s face darkened. “It is possible. Within them we have placed many cards and tablets, each of which allows a warrior to invoke a spell. A few of the vanyesh have found it possible to operate one of them, but…”

“What?”

“Several of them have vanished within the machines. We open the dari and there is no trace of them.”

Nelesquin frowned. “You will test more. Use conscripts. And you will train more. Create nine armies of these dari. We will burst Moriande wide…What is the problem?”

Pravak sank to one knee and bowed his head. “Master, I have sought to create one army, but Master Anturasi tells me this is impossible. He says we cannot create more than a handful.”

“What?” Nelesquin spun on Qiro. “Why do you thwart me?”

The old man’s eyes blazed. “I have done everything you ask. I create this place. I make time move faster. I facilitate the creation of these gyanrigot. I have done everything, and I get nothing in return. I have asked only to be given my workshop again, but do I have it? No!”

Nelesquin pointed to the bears wrestling below. “Do you not see that these are the means to attain what you desire?”

“Do you not see that you don’t need an army of them to end this siege?” Qiro waved off Nelesquin’s concern. “You can have a company of them. It is enough.”

“How dare you tell me what I can and cannot have?” Nelesquin lunged for Qiro, but the older man backed away. Kaerinus grabbed Nelesquin’s belt and held him back. The Prince spun, slapping the vanyesh ’s hands away, but it was enough to vent his anger. He snarled, then turned slowly and regarded Qiro carefully.

“This is not, Master Anturasi, about what I need. It is about what you can provide, isn’t it? You have created this world, but you did not anticipate the need for iron.”

Qiro’s chin came up. “I was led to believe you wanted to breed more of your creatures.”

“Fair enough. Neither of us anticipated this windfall, but it should not be a problem.” Nelesquin brought his hands back together. “Create us another world, one with enough iron.”

Qiro’s nostrils flared. “I cannot.”

“Cannot or will not?”

“Do not use that tone with me. I told you that I needed my tower, my workshop. I told you another controlled it and that limited me. When I created this place, I was able to make it a microcosm of Nalenyr. I drew upon the riches of this nation to shape this place. Had I wanted to, I could have dragged all the iron in the world to this place as if I were a magnet.”

Nelesquin spoke through clenched teeth. “And now you are prevented from doing that?”

“Yes. Whoever controls my tower has anticipated me. He has found a way to define the lands, locking them. Because I created this place before he worked his mischief, it remains largely unaffected.”

“But once I return you to your tower, you can undo this meddling?”

“And I shall undo it.”

Nelesquin ran a hand over his face. The coolness of the gold felt good. It provided him a moment’s respite. The brush of metal over his face also gave him an idea.

He peeked out from between golden fingers. “Iron is not the only metal you have here. We have gold and silver, tin and copper. Lead, too, I suppose, but that will never do.”

Qiro nodded. “I have all those things.”

“Good. Pravak, you will create these machines of whatever metal you can find. We will use salvage. I want two regiments. Use wood if you must, and bones. Grow me many xonarchii and harvest them for their bones. I will equip two regiments of my best Durrani with these things and let them open the city. I will get you your tower, Master Anturasi.”

“This is all I have asked, and all I require.”

Nelesquin shook his head. “No, you require one more thing.”

Qiro raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“The death of the one who opposes you.”

Surprise lit Qiro’s face for a split second, then vanished as his expression sharpened. “Yes, yes, I do.” He eyes rolled back in his head and he swayed. His eyes snapped back down and he smiled. “It is Keles.”

“I will have him destroyed. But you need to provide Pravak with the tools for our success.”

“Of course, Highness.” Qiro stepped back and waved a hand toward the arena. The earth shook, toppling the combatants, and almost upsetting Nelesquin. The sand at the arena’s heart boiled, then a dagger of iron thrust up through the earth. Around it, bursting through the stands, came another of gold and one of silver. A tin spike shattered rock and was, in turn, blunted by it. And copper leaked up through all the rents and pooled in a rising lake.

The bears, looking more like animals than warriors, scrambled up the iron plinth and leaped to the golden spike. They traveled along it to safety, their claws leaving curls of gold in their wake.