Ian Irvine - Alchymist

'We did far better than expected against so many,' said Nish. 'These lyrinx were not much more formidable than men. Previously, one lyrinx was the equal of two or three of our troops. Why the difference? Is it because they were stone-formed.’

'I don't know,' said Flydd.

And your orders, surr?' Troist persisted.

'I see no choice but to head for Gnulp and beg them to take us in,' said the scrutator.

'My thought too,' Troist replied, 'but even if they do, it only postpones the problem.'

'Why wouldn't they?' asked Nish. 'Where would they be without the army to protect them?'

'The master of the city might ask what good an army is if it can't even protect itself? He might say it's bringing trouble that they didn't have before.'

'Either we die outside the gates,' said Troist, 'or within.'

'I'll go to Gnulp,' said Flydd, 'and meet with the master in the morning. Be sure you're camped by the gates at dawn, General. It'll make it harder to refuse us. Nish,, come with me.'

They rode for several hours on a road illuminated by the moon, stopping just around the corner from the city gates. They could smell the salt sea and hear waves bursting over the breakwaters.

I hope you've got some kind of plan,' said Nish.

'For once, I haven't. Let's climb the hill and get an idea of the layout.'

Don't you know this place?' Nish was surprised. 'I thought you'd been everywhere in the world.'

I've been many places, but Gnulp Landing isn't one of them.'

They rode up a winding path to the crest of a steep hill armoured with flat, slanting black outcrops like the serrations down the spine of a chacalot, the water-dwelling reptile that even the lyrinx feared. At the top stood a ruined watch-tower, its black stones coated with lichen that shone like silver mancing glyphs in the moonlight.

Don't they keep the watch here?' said Nish. Look up,' said the scrutator.

In the light and shadow of the moon, the city was bleakly menacing. A double wall ran around it, thick and high, inside which stood three guard towers, tall enough to defend the wall but not close enough to be attacked readily from it. The defences were massive and designed with lyrinx in mind. Every flat surface was covered in long metal spikes, protection against attack from the air. The harbour was formed by two breakwaters curving into the racing waters of the Sea of Thurkad. Inside that oval, wharves and jetties had been built out from the shore, and all were occupied. Nish counted a hundred and fifty ships at anchor.

How have they survived so long, so close to the enemy?' he wondered.

By exploiting the lyrinx's fear of water. The city is easily defended from the shore, and the air, and the lyrinx are not going to attack from the water side. Perhaps they've decided that there are easier targets. Wait here — I think I'll go in alone, after all.'

The master of the city took them in grudgingly. Twenty-three thousand men would be a tremendous strain on his stores but he dared not incur the wrath of the scrutators, much less a man leading such a powerful army.

Despite the overcrowded barracks and indifferent food, Nish enjoyed the first few days in Gnulp Landing. It was a relief not to have the grinding squeal of the clankers in his ears; not to wear armour and weapons day and night. He even managed to put Ullii and Mylii, and all the dead, out of his mind for a while. He'd used his initiative, pushed himself to the very limit of his abilities, and had succeeded. He felt good about himself for once.

The lyrinx attacked on the second night and the following nights, and every day the master of the city grew colder.

'I curse the day I opened the gates to you, Scrutator Flydd,'1 he said on the fifth morning. 'Your soldiers are eating their heads off and my precious stores are dwindling. Were I not an honourable man, I would put you out tomorrow.'

His dark eyes had the lustre of a toad's; Nish imagined him spitting poison at them.

'But of course, you are an honourable man,' Flydd said smoothly, 'and the Council of Scrutators appreciates that. Be certain of their generosity to those who demonstrate their loyalty.' His eyes flicked sideways at Nish. Never trust a man who makes a point of his honour, he seemed to be saying.

Nish did not trust the master an ell. A man who counted the cost of everything and valued nothing that he could not price, Nish had met many like him in his days as a merchant's scribe. The master couldn't work out how Flydd fitted into the scheme of things. He must have heard about his fall, yet here he was at the head of an army, which obeyed him as if he were its rightful commander. But should the Council confirm Flydd's dismissal, as in time they must, the master would put them out of the gates in an instant.

'The scrutators begrudge every copper grint' said the master. 'I'm feeding your troops out of my own pocket, Scrutator, and it's not bottomless. Another week will bank-rupt me, and we have a hard winter ahead of us. After today, you'll get nothing until I see your gold.'

'You'll get your due,' said Flydd with another significant glance at Nish. He rose. And now I must attend to another pressing problem. We'll talk further on this matter.'

'We will indeed,' hissed the master.

'Bloody old hypocrite,' Flydd said when the door had closed behind them. 'It's not his food we're eating, nor is he paying for it though he's already doubled the price of meat and grain from his storehouses. He's gouging every grint out of the people and blaming us.'

'What are you going to do?' 'Go down to the waterfront. I've an idea.'

Nish waited outside while Flydd spoke to one sea captain, then another. After the second visit the scrutator emerged, smiling. 'I think it may work after all.'

'What?'

I'm going to hire an armada to get us out of here.' There's twenty thousand of us! More.' I'm sending the clankers back east to Lybing, packed with soldiers and the injured. If we can put a hundred on each boat, the hundred and fifty boats in port will be enough to carry the remainder.' 'Some are only fishing boats.' 'And others are traders that can sail all the way to Crandor and the North Seas. It's the only way, Nish.' 'Where do you plan to go?'

'Into the Karama Malama, then south-east to Hardlar. The lyrinx seldom strike that far south. From there we'll march north to Borgistry.' 'The Karama Malama is a dangerous sea, isn't it?'

'It can be, in the stormy season.'

'Isn't that right now?'

'Er, yes. But it's not as dangerous as staying here.'

'I dare say the master will be pleased.'

'He'll be furious, which will please me.'

'Furious? Why?'

'He wants our gold more than he wants rid of us, and nothing could give me more pleasure than to deprive him of it. The sea captains think the same. They've all been robbed by him, at one time or another.'

'So they'll be happy to take us?'

'Delighted, though they'll charge the best part of Jal-Nish's war chest to do so. They know desperate men when they see them.'

'When are we going?'

'We load in the morning, as soon as it's light. It'll take two days. Better get ready. You're in charge.'

'Me?'

'Yes, you.'

As if they knew what was being planned, the lyrinx attacked from the air that night, dropping rocks on the storehouses and granaries near the port. The defenders were ready, driving the enemy off with a hail of arrows. The next time they attacked, half an hour later, the lyrinx kept higher, The missiles had further to fall and did greater damage, but not a single lyrinx fell.

Nish was at the docks well before dawn, with his list of squads and the vessels they were to embark upon. No one was to move before Flydd gave the word. The clankers, bearing their load of soldiers and injured men, were going to leave at dawn and head east. Twenty leagues inland they would be out of danger, now that Snizort was no more.