Выбрать главу

“Alfred. I’m sorry.”

The man looked down at her, the tears glistening on his eyelashes. Squeezing her hand, he said something that she did not understand, for it was not in her language, nor in any other language that had been spoken for long ages in the realm of Arianus.

“This is why we failed,” he said in that ancient language. “We thought of the many . . . and forgot the one. And so I am alone. And left perhaps to face by myself a peril ages old. The man with the bandaged hands.” He shook his head.

“The man with the bandaged hands.”

He left the mausoleum without looking back. No longer afraid, Jarre walked with him.

Hugh woke at the sound. Starting up, pulling his dagger from his boot, he was on the move before he had completely thrown off sleep. It took him but an instant to collect himself, his eyes blinking back the blur of waking, adjusting to the dim glow of glimmerglamps shining from the never-sleeping Kicksey-Winsey. There was the sound again. He was heading in the right direction; it had come from behind one of the grilles located on the side of the vat.

Hugh’s hearing was acute, his reflexes quick. He had trained himself to sleep lightly, and he was, therefore, not pleased to discover Haplo, fully awake, calmly standing near the air shaft as if he’d been there for hours. The sounds—scuffling and scraping—could now be heard clearly. They were getting closer. The dog, fur bristling around its neck, stared up at the shaft and whined softly.

“Shhst!” Haplo hissed, and the dog quieted. It walked around in a nervous circle and came back to stand beneath the shaft again. Seeing Hugh, Haplo made a motion with his hand. “Cover that side.”

Hugh did not hesitate, but obeyed the silent command. To argue about leadership now would have been foolhardy, with some unknown something creeping toward them in the night and the two of them with only their bare hands and one dagger to fight it. He reflected, as he took up his stance, that not only had Haplo heard and reacted to the sound, he had moved so softly and stealthily that Hugh, who had heard the sound, had not heard Haplo. The scuffling grew louder, nearer. The dog stiffened and bared its teeth. Suddenly there came a thump and a muffled “Ouch!” Hugh relaxed. “It’s Alfred.”

“How in the name of the Mangers did he find us?” Haplo muttered. A white face pressed against the grillwork from the inside.

“Sir Hugh?”

“He has a wide range of talents,” remarked Hugh.

“I’d be interested in hearing about them,” returned Haplo. “How do we get him out?” He peered inside the grillwork. “Who’s that with you?”

“One of the Gegs. Her name’s Jarre.”

The Geg poked her head beneath Alfred’s arm. The space they were in was, seemingly, a tight fit, and Alfred was forced to scrunch up until he practically doubled in two to make room.

“Where’s Limbeck?” Jarre demanded. “Is he all right?”

“He’s over there, asleep. The grille’s bolted fast on this side, Alfred. Can you work any of the bolts out from yours?”

“I’ll see, sir. It’s rather difficult . . . without any light. Perhaps if I used my feet, sir, and kicked—”

“Good idea.” Haplo backed out of the way, the dog trotting at his heels.

“It’s about time his feet were good for something,” said Hugh, moving to the side of the vat. “It’s going to make one hell of a clatter.”

“Fortunately, the machine’s doing an excellent job of clattering itself. Stand back, dog.”

“I want to see Limbeck!”

“In just a moment, Jarre,” came Alfred’s mollifying voice. “Now, if you’ll just scoot over there and give me some room.”

Hugh heard a thud and saw the grillwork shiver slightly. Two more kicks, a groan from Alfred, and the grille popped off the side of the vat and fell to the ground.

By now, Limbeck and Bane were both awake and had come over to stare curiously at their midnight callers. Jarre slid out feet-first. Landing on the floor of the vat, she raced to Limbeck, threw her arms around him, and hugged him tight.

“Oh, my dear!” she said in a fierce whisper. “You can’t imagine where I’ve been! You can’t imagine it!”

Limbeck, feeling her trembling in his arms, somewhat bewilderedly smoothed her hair and gingerly patted her on the back.

“But, never mind!” said Jarre, returning to the serious business at hand. “The newssingers say the High Froman’s going to turn you over to the Welves. Don’t worry. We’re going to get you out of here now. This air shaft Alfred found leads to the outskirts of the city. Where we’ll go once we leave here, I’m not quite certain, but we can sneak out of Wombe tonight and—”

“Are you all right, Alfred?” Hugh offered to help extricate the chamberlain from the shaft.

“Yes, sir.”

Tumbling out of the air shaft, Alfred attempted to put his weight on his legs, and crumpled over in a heap on the ground. “That is, perhaps not,” he amended from where he sat on the floor of the vat, a pained expression on his face. “I am afraid I’ve damaged something, sir. But it’s not serious.” Standing on one foot, with Hugh’s help, he leaned back against the vat. “I can walk.”

“You couldn’t walk when you had two good feet.”

“It’s nothing, sir. My knee—”

“Guess what, Alfred!” interrupted Bane. “We’re going to fight the elves!”

“I beg your pardon, Your Highness!”

“We’re not going to have to escape, Jarre,” Limbeck was explaining. “At least I’m not. I’m going to make a speech to the Welves and ask for their help and cooperation. Then the Welves will fly us to the realms above. I’ll see the truth, Jarre. I’ll see it for myself!”

“Make a speech to the Welves!” Jarre gasped, her breath completely taken away by this astounding revelation.

“Yes, my dear. And you’ve got to spread the word among our people. We’ll need their help. Haplo will tell you what to do.”

“You’re not going to ... fight anyone, are you?”

“No, my dear,” said Limbeck, stroking his beard. “We’re going to sing.”

“Sing!” Jarre stared from one to another in blank astonishment. “I ... I don’t know much about elves. Are they fond of music?”

“What’d she say?” Hugh demanded. “Alfred, we’ve got to get this plan moving! Come here and translate for me. I have to teach her that song before morning.”

“Very well, sir,” said Alfred. “I assume, sir, you are referring to the song of the Battle of Seven Fields?”

“Yes. Tell her not to worry about what the words mean. They’ll have to learn to sing it in human. Have her memorize it line by line and say it back to us to make sure she’s got the words. The song shouldn’t be too difficult for them to learn. Kids sing it all the time.”

“I’ll help!” Bane volunteered.

Haplo, squatting on the ground, stroked the dog, watched and listened, and said nothing.

“Jarre? Is that her name?” Hugh approached the two Gegs, Bane dancing at his side. The man’s face was dark and stern in the flickering light. Bane’s blue eyes gleamed with excitement. “Can you rally your people, teach them this song, and have them there at the ceremony?” Alfred translated. “This king of yours said the Welves will be here this day at noon. That doesn’t give you much time.”

“Sing!” Jarre murmured, staring at Limbeck. “Are you really going? Up there?” Taking off his spectacles, Limbeck rubbed them on his shirt sleeve and put them on again. “Yes, my dear. If the Welves don’t mind—”

“ ‘The Welves don’t mind,’” Alfred translated to Hugh, giving him a meaningful glance.

“Don’t worry about the Welves, Alfred,” interposed Haplo. “Limbeck’s going to make a speech.”

“Oh, Limbeck!” Jarre was pale, biting her lip. “Are you sure you should go up there? I don’t think you should leave us. What will WUPP do without you? You going off like that—it will seem like the High Froman’s won!” Limbeck frowned. “I hadn’t thought about that.” Removing his spectacles, he began to clean them again. Instead of putting them back on, he absentmindedly stuck them in his pocket. He looked at Jarre and blinked, as if wondering why she was all blurry. “I don’t know. Perhaps you’re right, my dear.” Hugh ground his teeth in frustration. He didn’t know what had been said, but he could see the Geg was having second thoughts, and that was going to lose him his ship and probably his life. He looked impatiently at Alfred to help, but the chamberlain, limping on one foot, appeared undignified and storklike, also very sad and unhappy. Hugh was just admitting to himself that he might have to rely on Haplo when he saw the man, with a signal of his hand, send the dog forward.