The Lohvian Cycle II

Chapter three

Chapter threeCleaning up the world of Kregen by disposing of one Kataki was all very well. It did not solve any of our pressing problems.

Our pursuers neither gained on us nor fell back. As the Shanks habitually built their flying ships to a single pattern this was not surprising. There had been two or three different designs on view lately; but if they differed in speed as well as layout it was not apparent yet. In addition we were all feeling hungry and thirsty.

Provisions and water from the fore parts of the vessel were broken out. There seemed little reason at this time to impose severe rationing and the cooks appointed themselves and we all ate and drank reasonably well. When the twin suns set, which would be in short order, our pursuers could still follow us, a burning torch scorching the sky.

The fire crept forward only slowly for we were making a good clip and the breeze blew back splendidly.

Thus our progress south was measured by our pursuers and by the fire.

Here in Loh the Suns of Scorpio are called Luz and Walig. They duly set in bands of crimson and viridian across the western sky and only a single lesser moon of Kregen hurtled low across the heavens. Tuco, who had been volunteered by Kuong to stand lookout, came forward in haste.

“They’ve put lights in them flying things — and they’re going away!”

Kuong, Mevancy and I went carefully down and aft to check and it was true. The Shanks had given up the chase. Clearly, they believed we would burn.

Back on deck I felt I had to be as tactful as possible in dealing with the susceptibilities of Mevancy, as well as Kuong. I said: “There is a plan—”

Mevancy snorted. “We all know about your plans, cabbage!”

“All the same, I think it will work. If you give it a try.”

“Speak on, Drajak,” said Kuong in his best trylonish manner.

“First of all, you’ll have to understand a little of how the flying ships work. Rollo will have to play a major part. And we will all have to act very smartly, very smartly indeed, by Chozputz!”

When I outlined the plan there were some long faces, some grim faces, and one or two blank faces.

“I’m for giving it a try,” quoth Rollo, stoutly.

“Very well. The fire will burn through before the night is out. So we must begin at once.”

Selecting personnel to perform the various tasks demanded by my so-wonderful plan was not too difficult. One absolutely vital factor was to determine the exact wind direction. If we fouled up on that we’d crisp.

Taking Rollo, Kuong, Llodi, Mevancy and Tuco below to where in a Pazzian craft the silver boxes of lift and motion would be located, we found no silver boxes. Instead, in the small armored space reposed bronze boxes. They were mounted in brass and balass orbits in a fashion almost identical to the mountings with which I was familiar. I explained succinctly.

“When the boxes move closer we rise. When they are pulled apart we go down. When they revolve in their orbits we go forward or turn to the side. Here are the control wires leading down from the levers in the conning tower.”

They digested this.

“Each one of you will be assigned a single task. You will have enough of the ex-slaves to help in carrying. The vital need is utmost speed. But that does not mean you drop a single item!”

“We’ll run, what with the fire at our heels, an’ all,” commented Llodi.

“The whole operation will be carried out in strict sequence so that nobody gets in anybody else’s way.”

Tuco in his uncouth Brokelsh manner said: “I’ll go last.”

“I appreciate your offer, Tuco.” Kuong was very much the grand noble. “But, as everyone realizes, that is a task devolving on me.”

Talk about noblesse oblige! Mind you, from Kuong’s point of view, if he did get himself killed he’d be born again in a new baby body.

That might be all right for him and his weird beliefs; if he dropped a vital element he’d shaft the rest of us. Shaft us rotten.

We sorted out the duties. Everyone was told twice what to do.

Then I had them recite what they had to do back to me.

Rollo was taking the control levers. He commented casually that he was becoming addicted to flying through thin air.

Each of the principals selected their assistants.

I said to Kuong: “Oh, trylon. Would you mind telling that Cheng fellow to get some people to carry out all the weapons they can?”

“Assuredly, Drajak. Still, he’s not altogether a lost cause.”

“I am heartened to hear it. Now. A few last words.”

They heard me out in a waiting silence. We were risking much; no one had a better suggestion. At last we were ready. Everyone went to their posts and I went up with Rollo to the conning tower.

Just as we reached the armored box the aft fighting tower, eaten away by flames, fell by the board with an almighty crash and spewing fountains of sparks. A tall Gon girl, her long silver hair wrapped about her bare waist, looked in one of the slits of the tower to say: “Master. The sparks all blew that way.” She pointed a few points off to larboard.

“Your name?”

“Glima, an’ it please you, master.”

“Thank you, Glima. That was smart work. I congratulate you.”

Her drawn face broke into a smile that I couldn’t see without a pang.

A glance through a top scuttle at the stars — those splendid stars of Kregen — located the wind direction for me. Now we had to find the right spot.

“Head her into the breeze, Rollo, my lad. I’ll go for’ard and see what I can find. Glima, you will relay messages to Master Rollo.”

“Yes, master.”

Glima and I went forward into the eyes of the ship. In less than half a bur the Maiden with the Many Smiles would be up and by her fuzzy pinkish moonlight I ought to be able to scan the land. When that radiance broke across the land I saw we were flying over scrubland similar to much to the south. By heading those few points to larboard we were trending south eastward, which was not the direction in which I wished eventually to go.

Carefully studying the ground as it fleeted past, for we could not slow down, I waited as patiently as I could until a small river hove into view bordered by trees. Beyond it the ground looked flat. To try to touch down in the water would be of little use; the fire would rage contemptuous of the stream’s waters to extinguish it. And we’d have to wade or swim ashore.

A few last meticulous observations ahead to check that there were no obstructions, then: “Run, Glima. Tell Rollo. Now!”

She was gone on bare flashing legs.

More quickly than I’d expected the flier’s speed slackened and she nosed down with that reckless impetuosity I was coming to recognize as Rollo’s special way of expressing his addiction to flying through thin air.

Still, he did it cleverly. When we hit we were barely moving forward. Now, below, my friends and their assistants should be hard at work. I rushed off to make sure no one got in anyone else’s way. I gave a stentorian bellow as I hit the forward deck on my way to the conning tower.

“Cheng! Get your people moving! Bratch!”

The Repositer was standing staring at the roaring mass of flames engulfing the whole of the after part of the vessel. He jumped at my bellow. He had a sack of weapons slung over his shoulders and the people with other sacks were pushing past. He flung me a look compounded of hatred and fear and hurried to the side. He flung the sack over before following himself, which annoyed me. You don’t treat weapons as thoughtlessly as that, not on Kregen.

The ex-slaves tended to jostle as they rushed for safety. You could hardly blame them for that, for now the heat was appreciable. The breeze was not all that strong, and whilst the flames were being blown aft, tongues and evil creeping streamers were eating their way forward.

Here came Kuong and the others, all carrying their appointed pieces. Rollo scrambled down from the conning tower with the control levers. The wires were dragged out and Llodi hauled them along with a will. Mevancy and Tuco were carrying the bronze boxes. All in all, as we scuttled like rats from the burning vessel, we must have presented a macabre sight.

Flames crackled and hissed. Smoke blackened the stars. The Maiden with the Many Smiles shone down refulgently, and fuzzy pink moonlight washed over men and women, over the doomed vessel. We ran and panted away until the heat was such that we could haul up and catch our breaths and watch the end.

Those people ordered to hack away as much as was practical of the forward parts of the flier had the heaviest burdens. One strapping Khibil was hauling a whole huge baulk of timber. I marked him.

I shouted: “Well done, all. It’s no good gawping at the fire. Cooks! Get our own fires going and cook!”

This was a calculated risk; but a necessary one. My thoughts were that the Fish Faces might send a patrol out in the morning in curiosity to find out what had become of us. By that time, we’d be gone.

In the event we all ate and drank and then taking up our burdens trudged back to the stream where we could conceal ourselves among the trees.

Now even on Kregen, which is a truly remarkable world, everybody is not superhuman. Men and women react in unpredictable ways under unusual circumstances. So, all right. We had with us folk who were used to being slaves and their reactions to combat were thus modified. We had with us warriors, and their reactions to being made slave were unprintable. I decided we all needed a rest. The suggestion being made to Kuong and Mevancy resulted in immediate agreement. Some people had been injured by the Katakis as to need careful nursing. With our slender resources, this we provided.

Two days, I felt, would be sufficient for all but the worst cases. We had to bury one poor devil of a Fristle who’d been badly beaten. We carried out the necessary rites with due solemnity, commending him to his god, Tsung-Tan, and trusting he went up there in glory to Gilium rather than wandering hopelessly through the Death Jungles of Sichaz.

As the people rested and ate through the next two days I went along between the trees marking those I wanted. We were extremely cautious with fires, using them only for cooking. On the afternoon of the second day the lookouts raised the alarm and we all held still and silent as the Shank flying patrol passed overhead.

On the morning of the third day, as Luz and Walig rose into a marvelous Kregan dawn, Kuong and Mevancy, needing little prompting, set the folk to work.

In the fetching and carrying of tree trunks the big Khibil proved a most satisfactory substitute for a beast of burden. I didn’t think of him in exactly that light, until the fact was pointed out, somewhat stuffily, by Kuong’s Repositer. The Khibil’s name was Quando the Iarvin.

I admit it. I stand guilty and condemned. I laughed.

Well, and why not, after all? My good companion and fellow kregoinye, Pompino the Iarvin, had once had a pretty little run in with a thief wearing the cognomen of Iarvin. A smart fellow, a lad who knows what’s what, that’s what Iarvin more or less means. Like all Khibils, this Quando knew his own worth and was well aware in his supercilious way he was a cut above the rest.

At least, he was a godsend when it came to lifting the trunks into place. Nothing fancy. That had to be my watchword. We built a raft-like platform and, perforce, had to plait ropes to tie the lot together. The bronze boxes were positioned and the control wires had to be drastically reduced in length as the levers were situated so close to them. Rollo took a deal of interest in all the technical aspects. I fancied he’d be turning into a second Oby, who’d started out desperate to be a kaidur in the Arena, and had wound up as an expert voller pilot and captain.

The body of the raft-like structure took shape. Rails were added and a light structure for shelter along the center line. The controls were placed in front. I’d had experience building small personal vollers in Sumbakir in Hamal and that knowledge came in useful now.

When all was done I decreed another single day’s holiday. Hunters had brought in game, we had the stream for water, and supplies of garsun flour were holding up. Palines, of course, grew freely along the stream.

On the day which Kuong and Mevancy had, between themselves, decided we should leave, the trylon said: “Do you have any special direction, Drajak?”

“Yes, Kuong. I’d like to go to the area just north of Clovang. I left some friends there I’d like to see are all right.”

“That is away from the capital, Taranjin.”

“Aye.”

Mevancy said crisply: “We should be trying to link up with Queen Kirsty’s army.”

“If it’s even formed yet, let alone started.”

“Well, cabbage—”

“Also,” I said, “we have some poor folk with us who ought to be dropped off in as safe a place as we can. There is fighting ahead.”

“That is true, by Spurl!” flashed Mevancy.

“We will,” said Kuong, “pick up Drajak’s friends, drop off those who we feel are not capable. Then we can see how Queen Kirsty is doing.”

Rollo insisted on handling the controls. With everyone packed aboard we soared away and up into the streaming mingled radiance of the Suns of Scorpio.