Irisis let out her breath and unclenched her fists. Her nails had dug white crescents in her palms.
‘Well,’ said Malien after a considered pause, ‘I very much believe that it’s over. We won’t be seeing them in Fiz Gorgo again.’ She turned the thapter down towards the crash scene, in case there were any survivors.
They found none, but as they were lifting off again, Klarm said, ‘What’s that?’
‘What?’ said Flangers.
‘That horrible red rag hanging in that tree.’ As they came alongside the bloody, gruesome object, Klarm began to laugh. ‘Trust Ghorr to go out in his own unique way. This is truly an end for the Histories, though not one he’d want to be remembered for.’
It looked like some kind of elongated membrane, waxy on the outside but red within, with strands of hair on one end and a grey thicket in the middle. Irisis recoiled. ‘It’s his skin,’ she said, disgusted. ‘The explosion blew Ghorr right out of his skin.’
‘An entirely appropriate ending,’ said Klarm, ‘considering the number of victims he ordered to be flayed alive. I’m sure Flydd will appreciate it even more than I do.’ He frowned at that thought, rubbed his chin and cast a glance down at the swamp. ‘I wonder if Ghorr could be down there now, his heart still beating?’
‘Not even Ghorr could have survived the fall, even if he did live through the explosion and the skinning,’ said Malien. ‘A great mancer can do a lot with the Art, but he can’t protect himself from a fall of fifty spans.’
‘We’d better make sure,’ said Klarm. ‘If he landed in a thick bed of reeds it might have saved him, and he could then use his Art to fashion some kind of substitute for his skin.’
‘I don’t see how,’ said Malien. ‘Oh, very well. I’d like to make sure of him too.’
After some searching they found the body, which had landed on the upraised branch of a fallen tree and burst open. There was no doubt that it had once been the chief scrutator, and none that he was now dead. They left the corpse where it lay for the scavengers to feed on, and headed back to do what they could at Fiz Gorgo.
‘Swing by the skin again, Malien,’ said Klarm. ‘I’ll have it tanned and stuffed and keep it in the corner of my workroom. And in the difficult days to come, whenever someone tells me that things were better in the time of the scrutators, I’ll bring Ghorr’s skin out to illustrate the tale I plan to write, of his life and death, and his evil regime.’
‘Don’t be disgusting,’ said Irisis. She had never hated anyone, not even Jal-Nish, the way she’d hated Ghorr, but she could not countenance that.
‘It’s not worthy of you, Klarm,’ said Malien. ‘Let’s get back and see to the living.’
‘If you plan to overthrow the Council, and prevent them from ever rising again,’ Klarm said carefully, ‘first you must destroy them in the eyes of the people. Ridicule is the best way to do that, and there’s no better symbol than this.’
‘Oh very well,’ said Malien, and brought the thapter close while the gruesome object was retrieved. ‘Can we go now?’
‘Yes, thank you,’ said Klarm, still chuckling as he rolled the skin up carefully and packed it away.
Malien turned the thapter back to Fiz Gorgo.
‘Does anyone know what happened to Tiaan?’ Irisis wondered.
‘She was taken up at the same time as I was,’ said Malien. ‘But to a different craft.’
‘Do you know which one?’
‘No.’
‘I hope it was Fusshte’s,’ said Irisis.
‘Why?’
‘The Council came here with sixteen air-dreadnoughts and they’ve left with seven. The others exploded or crashed and I doubt if anyone would have survived.’
‘Where’s Gilhaelith?’ Yggur asked his captain in charge the moment they trudged through the broken doors of Fiz Gorgo.
Everyone looked at everyone else. No one had seen him since they’d come down the slide, hours ago.
‘Search Fiz Gorgo,’ Yggur said grimly. ‘He must be found and safely secured.’
‘But surely …’ Malien began.
‘Ghorr didn’t find this place by accident,’ said Yggur. ‘I had a protection around the entirety of Fiz Gorgo and I don’t see how the Council could have seen through it, even using Ullii’s talents. Gilhaelith definitely had a hand in it. I’ve just been to his cell and found the proof.’ He displayed a handful of rock-salt crystals. ‘They’ve got the print of the Art all over them. Gilhaelith made a working, down in his cell, which allowed Ullii to look through my protection.’
‘That doesn’t mean he deliberately betrayed us,’ said Nish.
Yggur gave him a cold glare from beneath frizzled, soot-stained brows. ‘But it does reinforce my initial opinion of the man, that he’s unreliable, untrustworthy and completely lacking in judgment. Find him!’
They hastened to do his bidding, all except Irisis, who fell in beside Yggur as they went down the corridor.
‘He’s gone, hasn’t he?’
‘I’m afraid he has,’ Yggur said grimly. ‘And he’s going to cause us no end of trouble unless we find him quickly.’
He organised his remaining soldiers into search parties and sent messages to the nearby towns and villages, to hold Gilhaelith at all costs. They did not find him, though his trail was not difficult to discover. He’d taken advantage of the chaos when everyone had come down the slide to slip away into Fiz Gorgo. There he’d gathered weapons, a sackful of provisions and as much gold as he could carry. Avoiding the guards, he had slipped out through the gates into the mist and headed up the track for Old Hripton. He’d chartered a boat, making no secret of his destination. Then he’d set sail around the northern end of the island of Meldorin, thence heading down the Sea of Thurkad.
Yggur put his head in his hands when his messengers came back with the news. ‘I can only assume that he is heading back to Alcifer.’
‘To do what?’ said Nish.
‘Betray us to the lyrinx?’
‘Well, it’s out of our hands. What happens now? There was a plan …’
‘To attack Nennifer and overthrow the scrutators?’ said Yggur.
‘Yes,’ said Nish. ‘Has Gilhaelith betrayed that as well?’
‘Ghorr gave no sign that he knew, and it would have been included in the charges against us had Ghorr known of it. But …’
‘The longer we delay, the more likely it is that the Council will learn of it,’ said Irisis.
‘Flydd was the key to the attack,’ said Yggur. ‘It’s going to take time for him to recover … if, indeed, he does.’
‘Do you mean …’ Irisis began.
‘Oh, I’m sure he’ll live, but the damage goes deeper than that. I hardly dare mount the attack without him, though I’m equally reluctant to wait until he recovers.’
‘Either way it’s going to be a bigger gamble than the one we’ve just been through, and less likely to succeed,’ said Irisis. ‘But let’s worry about that tomorrow. I’m going to cook a victory dinner.’
‘Better to call it a survival dinner,’ said Yggur. ‘I’m not yet sure that we’ve had a victory.’
‘Coming, Nish?’ said Irisis, taking him by the arm.
‘I’m not really in the mood just now,’ he said. ‘I think I’ll go for a walk.’
She stared at him for a moment, then suddenly she understood and gave him a quick hug. ‘All right then. I’ll see you later.’
Nish watched her go, not sure whether to pray for Flydd’s quick recovery or to hope that his convalescence would be a lengthy one. Then he went outside to walk along the track that ran around the edge of the swamp forest. He had to think through the loss of Ullii, not to mention the son he’d never known, and never would. And then, find a suitable place to lay Ullii to rest. A quiet, pretty spot, as far from grim Fiz Gorgo as he could carry her.
PART TWO
EIDOSCOPE
EIGHTEEN
