Robert Redick - The Rats and the Ruling sea

'How long do we have?' demanded Taliktrum.

'If the wind does not freshen?' said Steldak. 'Perhaps forty minutes, my lord.'

'That old giant on the hilltop is in league with them, isn't he?' demanded Taliktrum. 'I know his face, somehow.'

'He is a sfvantskor,' said Diadrelu. 'It has come back to me at last. He was aboard the Jistrolloq when it came alongside us in Simja. And I would guess that the wand he holds is what Arunis called Sathek's Sceptre, which he dispatched the incubus to steal. But this is no time for guesswork. You must fly to the ship at once, Taliktrum, and take the Pachet with you.'

'And what then, Aunt? Those devils are going to sink her!'

Taliktrum's voice had come out shrill. Dri stared at him, appalled: he had the look of a cornered animal. She had any number of misgivings about her nephew's role as clan leader, but paralysis in the face of danger was something she had never imagined.

'The Jistrolloq is a terrible foe,' she said cautiously, 'but the Chathrand is not defenceless, and she is nearly twice their size. Go, Taliktrum. See the Pachet safely to Night Village, then warn the humans.'

'Of course!' laughed Taliktrum. 'What other counsel should I expect from you? Talk to the giants, trust them, embrace them! Let them decide our fate!'

'If you would not do this,' said Diadrelu, 'give me the other suit, and I will.'

'Do you believe me now, Lord?' said Myett suddenly, her eyes locked on Diadrelu. 'I warned you that she would seek to usurp your place.'

'Oh child, nonsense,' said Pachet Ghali.

'Diadrelu has no business here,' said Steldak. 'What is it she advises? To sweep into the ship, crying an alarm? That would bring doom on our clan no matter what followed. If the Chathrand did indeed escape, Rose's first act when out of danger would be to exterminate us all.'

'Madness,' whispered Taliktrum.

'Yes, nephew, it is,' said Diadrelu. 'While we bicker they are closing. Our people will be dead by midday if we do not act. But I never suggested that we abandon secrecy. Go to the stateroom and alert Hercol or Thasha or Neeps Undrabust, or even the woken rat. They may sound the alarm in our stead.'

Still Taliktrum demurred. Dri fell silent: the facts had all been spoken; he would face the deed before him or he would not. And you, Diadrelu Tammariken? Will you face what must be done, if his will breaks?

'They cannot see the Jistrolloq,' said Myett, 'and they will not believe the ravings of the Tholjassan or the Isiq girl, to say nothing of the rat.'

'They are still at anchor,' said Steldak. 'A light anchor, but it will take more than an hour to raise it. And if they should be caught in the cove by the Jistrolloq they will be utterly destroyed.'

'Then our mission fails,' said Taliktrum.

His voice was hollow with despair. While the others looked at him, speechless, Dri studied the footing between her nephew and the cliff.

'We will indeed sound an alarm,' Taliktrum continued, 'but it must be more than that. Pachet Ghali, you must play for the birds again. What my brother hoped for at Sanctuary-Beyond-the-Sea must happen now, this very minute. We must abandon the ship.'

'Lord Commander,' said the old man, turning pale, 'I do not know if my skills are equal to such a task! There are so many of us — and the birds heeded me but once out of all my attempts.'

'They will heed me, I think,' said Taliktrum, 'as soon as you cast your spell.'

'Are they to bring us… here?' asked Steldak, aghast. 'To this heap of an island, this birdhouse?'

'Better here than the bottom of the sea,' said Taliktrum. 'And later swallows can bear us to Bramian, a few at a time. We may rebuild our House there, and find some measure of peace, and one day our children may try again.'

'It is broad daylight,' said Diadrelu, 'and the deed on Sanctuary was to be accomplished under cover of darkness. How many will the humans kill when our people rush to the topdeck?'

'Not all,' said Taliktrum, 'that is the main thing.'

'And what of your father's dream, the one he gave his life for?'

'He gave his life to save Steldak from a cat,' said Taliktrum. 'As for dreams, it is time we woke from them. But providence does favour us in one way — had we not come ashore we would be as ignorant of the danger as the giants, and soon to perish with them. Not even you, Aunt, could prefer that fate.'

Their eyes met, lady and young lord, the old commander and her replacement. Then Dri shut her eyes, said a prayer to Mother Sky, and leaped at him.

Taliktrum had a warrior's instincts, if not a leader's. He moved into a whirling sidestep that would have kept Dri's blow from ever landing — had she tried to land one. But her nephew was not the target: she was after the other swallow-suit, gripped under the arm he raised to block her, and in that first split-second leap she snatched it from his hand.

Taliktrum's reaction was just as she hoped: the young man expected an outright attack, and sought to put distance between them lest she press her advantage. When Dri spun in the opposite direction there was suddenly a yard between them — all the room in the world for a battle-dancer.

Her second leap brought her between the Pachet and his granddaughter. Myett was quick as a spider: she had her knife out and slashed the air before her, and Dri felt the wind of the blade as she twisted under the blow. No time to parry: she struck the Pachet as gently as she could with her elbow, seized the swallow-pipes and rolled out of range of the girl's next stab.

She came out of the roll with her feet planted, saw the flash of the descending knife and struck out with a blocking-blow almost hard enough to shatter Myett's forearm. The knife flew from the girl's hand; for an instant she seemed frozen with pain. In that instant Dri seized her by the arm and the belt and hurled her bodily at Steldak, who was sidling towards her.

A shadow. Dri threw herself sideways, and Taliktrum's sword bit the earth where she had stood a moment before. Gods above, he's drawn his sword against his family!

The shock of having nearly died at the hands of one she had held as an infant — and one adorned in the ancient feather-coat, like a soothsayer of old — nearly cost Dri her life. Taliktrum was in deadly earnest: he wrenched the blade from the ground straight into an upward thrust. Dri avoided the blow with room to spare, but she was off-balance now, and when the blade came down a third time it missed her chest by an inch. Her third dodge had left her so spread-eagled that Taliktrum was able to kick her right foot out from under her, throwing her backwards over his blade.

She knew as well as any fighter alive how to turn a setback into an advantage. But once more she hesitated: this time on the point of a crippling kick to her nephew's face. She knew the sound of a snapped neck, and could not live with the sound of his inside her, the knowledge that she had dealt the killing blow. Then Taliktrum wrenched his sword from beneath her, and as he did so the blade's edge tore a diagonal gash across her back.

What Dri did next she could not afterwards remember. She only knew (in thought too quick for words) that she must be faster than her spilling blood. She did not see her own attack, or how it felled Taliktrum in an instant; only the pain in one foot and one fist told her what she had used to bring him down. She was standing; he lay twisting in the leaves, stunned but not mortally wounded, the sword that had drawn her blood still clenched in his hand.

She turned and ran, straight out along the edge of the cliff, pulling on the swallow-suit as she went. Behind her Steldak was howling: 'Lord Taliktrum! Murder! Regicide!' And Myett was giving chase. Dri ran so close to the precipice that earth and leaves sheered off with every footfall. How her back bled! The ancient coat would be defiled for ever, and how would their descendents speak of the one whose blood stained the garment? Heroine, traitor, fool?