‘First we find the artisan, alive,’ Jal-Nish said nasally. He was having trouble breathing through his crushed nose.
‘No one could guarantee that, surr,’ said Arple. ‘We don’t know where she is.’
‘We soon will. Seeker, get out here!’
Ullii emerged warily from the clanker.
‘Where is the artisan and her crystal?’
Ullii pointed towards the snilau.
‘Which one, seeker?’ Jal-Nish said patiently. Now that things were going to plan he had gained control of his temper.
Ullii looked panicky. Nish gave her his hand to sniff. She gulped, then steadied on her feet. ‘I … I can’t tell.’ She braced herself as if expecting a blow.
Nish ran across to Fyn-Mah and whispered in her ear. They came back together.
‘Ullii,’ Fyn-Mah said in her pleasant voice, ‘I have here a map of the snilau.’
Ullii looked down at the slate, which showed the ice houses in a spiral pattern. She smiled. ‘It’s like a snail. I like snails; they know how to hide.’
‘Can you see any of the lyrinx?’ Nish asked softly.
‘Of course,’ Ullii said brightly. ‘I can see all of them.’
‘What?’ cried Jal-Nish. ‘Why didn’t you say so?’
‘Because no one …’ She broke off. That had been the wrong answer last time.
Arple pushed through the throng gathered around her. The tough sergeant went to one knee before her. ‘Seeker, it will save many lives if you can tell us where the enemy are. Please try.’
She closed her eyes behind the goggles, then walked along the ridge, turned, looked down to the ice houses and came back.
‘There are fourteen lyrinx.’ Her voice was barely audible. ‘Five here; three here; two here; three here; one here.’ In turn she pointed to five of the outside snilau.
‘More than we thought,’ said Arple. ‘I don’t like the odds, surr.’
‘Then you’d better make sure of them with the catapults.’
‘And Tiaan?’ asked Arple of Ullii.
‘She is in the big one in the middle.’
‘That’s wonderful!’ Arple ran to the clankers to give orders.
‘See that she is not harmed or I’ll be taking heads,’ Jal-Nish growled.
‘Ready?’ Arple called to the shooters. Each had his catapult loaded with a round ball of stone and two more beside it. They signed that they were. ‘Rustina, take your troops out and around the left side to cut off any escape. We’ll fire in three minutes. After the third firing, attack the ice house in the centre. You are to take Tiaan alive, and her crystal, before anything else. Go!’
Rustina saluted and her squad skied down the slope. The other troops were given their orders, and they too moved out. Irisis could hear Arple counting under his breath. ‘Ready?’ he called to the shooters. ‘Fire on four!’
He lifted his arm, beat it up and down three times, then slashed it down. ‘Fire!’
The catapults went off as one. The clankers jerked. The shooters wound their handles frantically. ‘Fire at will,’ yelled Arple.
Irisis saw splashes of snow where the balls had landed. Two had missed, though not by much. One had definitely hit the nearest snilau and the other may have. It was hard to tell, everything being white.
The catapults fired again, one, then two together, then a long pause to the last. ‘Hurry it up, damn it,’ cried Jal-Nish.
Three hits this time, including the last, which appeared to have demolished most of the end ice house.
‘Good work!’ said Arple. ‘Now the third! Remember, keep clear of the ice house in the middle!’
They fired their third missiles but this time Irisis could see nothing though the clouds of snow.
‘Two more hits!’ said Arple, peering through a spyglass. ‘I can see something staggering about. A lyrinx. Looks like it’s lost a leg. Ready your javelards!’ yelled Arple. ‘Move! Find the artisan.’
Irisis jumped in. The four clankers raced down the slope. The terrain was bumpy; they bounced and thudded all the way.
‘What’s happening?’ she said, for Nish was hogging the line of the view hole.
‘Rustina’s troops are just reaching the ice houses,’ Nish said.
‘I can see three lyrinx now …’
‘What?’ cried Irisis, for he had fallen silent.
He took a long while to answer, and she heard his amusement, getting his own back on her. Irisis, in no mood for it, jabbed him in the ribs. ‘A flurry of snow,’ Nish said. ‘I can’t see anything.’
The clanker roared around in a wide circle before stopping abruptly. They could hear fighting over the wind – the bellowing of lyrinx, the clash of sword on armoured skin, screams of agony – some human, others not. Irisis leapt out.
‘Where are you going?’ yelled Nish.
‘After the crystal. Stay here. Look after Ullii.’
‘But …’ Nish began.
‘Someone’s got to guard her, and the clanker. And who’s to say you won’t be in more danger than I am?’
That was true enough. Anything might happen. Somebody had given Nish a short sword, which he drew. He was competent in the weapon, for a civilian. Few people were not, in these times, though he had not handled one in ages. He’d neglected his practice, working so hard at being an artificer. Nish regretted that now.
It was hard to see. The wind had come up with the dawn and the air was full of drifting snow. Nish climbed onto the clanker, next to the shooter, Pur-Did, whose javelard was aimed at the ice houses some thirty or forty paces away. Too close, Nish thought. A lyrinx could cross that distance in a few seconds.
He caught sight of a squad of soldiers hacking at the blocked entrance of the central snilau. Good, Nish thought. This will soon be over and we can go home.
A wild melee began outside the right-hand snilau, whose roof had collapsed. Two lyrinx were fighting five or six soldiers who had discarded their skis and were attempting to trap the enemy against the wall. They were handicapped by the deep snow.
The lyrinx went backwards, not seeming to defend themselves. ‘They don’t appear as tough as I’ve been told,’ said Nish. ‘They …’
One lyrinx did a backward somersault, landed on the rubble of ice blocks and, in a series of movements too quick to follow, hurled blocks the size of sheep at three of his opponents. One ducked, receiving only a blow on the shoulder. The other two, struck in the middle, went down.
The second lyrinx leapt among the other three and with quick swipes sent two of them flying. Blood sprayed through the air. The last man on his feet back-pedalled and began to run. The lyrinx hurled one of the bodies at him, bringing him down. The soldier stuck the lyrinx with his sword as it came for him, but it did not stop the creature.
The other had already finished off his three opponents. Nish felt sick. Six soldiers dead and it had taken only a minute. As the second lyrinx straightened up, the javelard snapped. The missile went through the lyrinx’s chest and out the other side. It fell among the bodies.
The other lyrinx looked up. Pur-Did furiously cranked his winder but the beast, after a swift look at them, ran towards the central ice house.
‘After him!’ Nish called down through the hatch.
‘My orders are to remain here unless one gets away with the artisan,’ said Ky-Ara.
A wild gust raced across the plateau, carrying a cloud of snow. Within seconds Nish could not even see the ground. Wiping snow grit out of his face, he caught the eye of the shooter, who was doing the same.
‘Nice day for it,’ the man said cheerfully, sucking air through his warty nostrils.
‘Yeah! And in a minute we might all be dead, with our guts trailing over the snow.’
‘Could do.’ Pur-Did brushed snow out of his javelard, making sure that nothing could foul the mechanism.
The cloud thinned. Nish scanned the area for enemies. A wild struggle was going on between the ice houses. He looked the other way, in case a lyrinx had sneaked around behind them. Half a dozen soldiers had what appeared to be a very pregnant lyrinx down on her knees, and as he watched they ran her through. Two infants were despatched just as ruthlessly, their heads completely severed from their bodies. The mother gave an agonised scream, then she too was beheaded. Nish could not watch.