Alchymist

There were eleven nays.

'And my first principal charge, that Flydd's incompetence led to the destruction of the node?'

Nine yeas and two nays.

'My second principal charge, that Flydd's negligence after the destruction of the node lost a third of our army?'

Seven yeas and four nays.

'It is enough,' said Ghorr. 'The charges are proven. Now, scrutators, we must agree on penalties.'

The scrutators dismissed Flydd ignominiously from his position and broke him to a common citizen. However, after half an hour of acrimonious debate, during which time Ghorr became ever colder, they could not agree on a penalty for the second charge.

'I'll take no more of this!' cried Ghorr. 'The enemy could counterattack at any time. I make the Declaration of Emergency. All rights are suspended, and all privileges, that conflict with my duties.'

He stared around the table. All broke under his stare, even Flydd, though he strove mightily against the chief scrutator. Ghorr had played the unbeatable card. Later he would have to justify the declaration but for the moment he was unassailable. Ghorr could punish him in any way he saw fit.

'I beg leave to address the Council,' came Jal-Nish's voice from behind Flydd.

'The matter is closed,' Ghorr said frostily.

'I do not wish to speak about that.' Jal-Nish glanced idly at Flydd, then away, as if he were of no significance. 'Fault and blame are irrelevant now. Rather would I speak about the war. And how we might still win it:

'Go on,' said Ghorr, showing his canines.

'The enemy have abandoned Snizort in haste, leaving behind everything, including their flesh-formed abominations. They must be dreadfully demoralised by the destruction of the node as well as the loss of their great city. The Histories tell us they are slow to recover from their rare defeats. And they have suffered terrible casualties: twelve thousand dead and half as many unable to fight.'

'Our losses are worse,' snapped Ghorr, 'for we've lost all our clankers as well. It'll take years to replace them.'

'Were we to pursue the enemy now,' said Jal-Nish, 'with our clankers and the constructs of the Aachim, they would be hard put to save themselves. The lyrinx are obscenities that flesh-form their own young in the womb. We must eradicate them to the last child!' He looked as though he would enjoy the slaughter.

'The node is exploded, you fool! The field is dead, our clankers useless metal.'

'I can save them,' said Jal-Nish.

Now he had their attention. 'How?' said Ghorr.

'I would bring in bullock teams,' said Jal-Nish. 'And teams of horses, buffalo and men. I'd put the clankers on skids and haul them to the nearest node field, north-west of here. It's only seven leagues away, I'm told. Then I'd go after the enemy with all our strength and strike them down before they have a chance to recover. From this defeat we can yet snatch victory, and what a sweet victory it will be. It could turn the tide of the war, Chief Scrutator.'

Flydd's voice dropped into the following silence. 'This is folly! The lyrinx are at no disadvantage at all. They don't need supplies – they've enough of our good soldiers in their bellies to do them a week.'

Ghorr turned on him. 'We'll hear no more of your cowardly words, Flydd. As of now I strip you of all rights. You are a non-citizen, and the meanest person in the world may strike you down without penalty. Guards!'

Two burly guards burst through the entrance Take Non-Citizen Flydd to the punishment pen. Guard him well and await my further instructions.'

The guards hauled Flydd off, his legs dragging.

Ghorr turned back to the table.' Jal-Nish, take Flydd's place at the table. We would hear more of your proposal, though I don't see how it can be done. To move five thousand clankers that distance would take a hundred thousand men, and even then it would be the most spine-cracking labour.'

'We have forty thousand hale troops,' said Jal-Nish, 'plus many thousands of camp followers. And we can conscript half as many again from the towns and villages to the east and south. Adding their beasts of burden, we'll have sufficient, if we drive them hard enough.'

There was silence around the table while the idea was considered.

'I don't see how it can be done before our supplies fail,' said Ghorr. And who could pull together such an unwieldy force in the time?'

'I can do it,' said Jal-Nish boldly. 'You know my record, surr.'

Ghorr looked doubtful. 'You have never held such high command.'

'No scrutator has, surr.' Excepting Flydd, but Jal-Nish was not going to mention him, in case the Council had second thoughts about the man. 'We must have courage, Chief Scrutator. We must dare the impossible. What have we to lose? And…'

'Yes?' snapped Ghorr, nettled that a mere acting scrutator should lecture him.

'If the enemy should get over their fright and come back, they'll annihilate us.'

That's my main concern. Very well. I will give you the command, Acting Scrutator. But remember, I'll be watching you…'

Jal-Nish went still. 'Acting Scrutator, surr? But.., you told me to take Flydd's place on the Council.'

'Flydd was dismissed from this Council months ago. I said take his place at the table. The test for scrutator is a stern one. Prove that you are deserving, Jal-Nish, and I will promote you. I may even admit you to the Council, should a vacancy occur. Fail and you may share the rack with Non-Citizen Flydd.'

'I won't fail,' said Jal-Nish with such black-eyed intensity that one or two of the Council members, hardened though they were, shuddered.

They worked for an hour before breaking up with a plan. Then they ran, each to their own duties. It fell to Jal-Nish to visit the guards at the punishment pen, a cage made from stakes hammered into the side of the hill.

'Rouse out the slaves,' he said with a liquid chuckle.

Xervish Flydd lifted his head. His face was bruised all over, for the other prisoners had welcomed the fallen into their company.

'What do you want with us?' he said.

'We don't have enough bullock teams, so men must make up the difference. You're going in the first team, to serve as an example to all. The lash will teach you to do your simple duty, Slave Flydd.'

Four

Flames blasted from a fissure in front of Tiaan. Liquid tar, hot enough to sting, dripped from the roof onto her head and shoulders; fumes burned tracks up her nostrils. A red glow lit up the tunnel behind her, for she was trapped in her walker, deep underground in Snizort. Though the lyrinx had repaired her severed spine with their flesh-forming Art, her legs were still too weak to stand on.

There was no field here, and the node was no longer visible. She reached down and felt the amplimet. It was still cool to the touch, thankfully, for heat could destroy such crystals.

The amplimet was powerful enough to draw on a more distant node, so she still had a chance. Tiaan tried to remember where other nodes might lie. In her long flight here in the thapter she had used many, and should have been able to recall them all, those memories were gone.

Everything was strange here; the ethyr was clotted with warpings the like of which she had never seen before. The amplimet seemed different, too. She wasn't sure how, but it was harder to use, almost as if it had grown stronger since the node exploded, or more wakeful and watchful. She did not like the feeling. Fighting down panic, Tiaan sought for a field and, at the very limit of her senses, detected a faint aura.

So far from the node that generated it, the field was tenuous, weak, fragile. She drew power into the controller. One leg twitched feebly but the walker did not move.

Dismayed, Tiaan made another attempt. That was better; she actually got one leg to take a step, though a wobbly, lurching one. She took another. Better still – she was remembering how to manage it.

Ahead, through cracks in the tunnel wall, the flames roared as if pumped by a distant bellows. They died away for the count of nineteen before roaring forth again. If she misjudged the timing, or went too slowly, she would be roasted alive.