"He will kill that man?"
"Yes."
"And you allow it? Earl, what has come over you? Why are you so different?"
"Different to what? Did you ever know me when I too had to kill? Can I stop Kars? Do I want to? That man would be dead now if I hadn't saved him. I did it so he would talk. Well, he's going to talk and what he says might win us this war. Or would you prefer others to die in his place? Your maid, for example. Roland. Me."
"Not you, Earl!" Her cry was from the heart and Roland sensed it. Watching, Dumarest saw his hand close on the bread he was crumbling, tighten to mash it into a ball.
"Lavinia, calm yourself, my dear. Earl, what did you mean when you said there was a chance you could end the war?"
"It's a secret."
"From me?" Roland smiled. "Surely you trust me?"
"I trust no one. Lavinia, can we have some food?"
Protocol dictated that unless she ate no food was served. With an effort she mastered her distaste and the servants continued with the meal. Gartok appeared before it was ended. His hands, Lavinia noticed, had been freshly washed and his eyes held the satiation of a man who has found an excess.
"Kars?" Dumarest relaxed as Gartok nodded. "So you got it. Good. You'd better eat now. We'll leave in an hour."
"Leave?" Roland shook his head. "You can't, Earl, and you know it. The castle is sealed until dawn."
"Seals can be broken."
"But the Sungari-no!" Lavinia was firm. "No, Earl."
"We leave."
"But you can't." Her plate moved to fall from the table as she pushed it with her arms; a gesture demonstrating her agitation. "You know the Sungari are real. You know how dangerous they are. We were caught outside at night, remember?"
"And lived." Dumarest rose from the table. "And we'll live again. Join me when you're ready, Kars. I'll be at the raft."
Beneath the lights it looked something like an elongated bubble, the opaque canopy fitted to the vehicle providing a covered space in which to operate the controls. Discs of transparency pierced it and apparatus had been fastened to the outside; grabs and rams and pincers which could be operated from within.
Dumarest had checked it by the time Gartok appeared.
"We'll lock in, open the doors and fly out," he said. "Where do we hit?"
"There's a place on the Prabang estate. A collection of huts used to train some men-you know it?"
"Yes," Dumarest glanced around the chamber. The inner doors were all sealed, aside from the two of them the area was deserted, the outer doors which had been hastily constructed were held by a single bolt which could be thrown by remote control. "Let's go!"
The lights died as the doors slid open and the converted raft edged into the courtyard. There would, Dumarest knew, be a short period of grace and he had the raft up and moving high above the ground before closing all but one of the transparent ports.
"Why do that?" Gartok grunted his displeasure. "I wanted to look outside."
"It wouldn't be wise."
"Why not?"
"Just take my word for it." Madness waited in the night but how to explain? Trapped energies from the suns swirling in mind-disturbing vortexes? Some radiation emitted by the Sungari? Imagination and hallucination running wild?
"Like I did about the Sungari? They're as odd as the ghosts but, at least, the ghosts don't kill. Maybe the Sungari don't either? Nothing's happened yet."
"Give it time," said Dumarest. "Give it time."
He had lifted the raft high and sent it at top speed to their destination, sending it like an arrow hurtling through the night but, as fast as he was, the Sungari were faster. Something touched the canopy with a brittle rasping sound. It came again, then a shower of things which scraped at the thick plastic, rattling like hail, like thrown spears.
"What the hell is that?" Gartok reached for one of the ports. "Something is out there."
"The Sungari. Don't touch the port!"
"I want to see."
"Don't touch it!" The one Dumarest had used was now closed, the raft flying blind. "If you look out they can look in."
"The Sungari?"
Or the things they had sent. The last time they had been winged missiles constructed of chitin and tissue, barbed darts moving too fast to see, living machines programmed to attack, anything in the shape of a man. This time they could be different but Dumarest doubted it. A good design was worth keeping and the creatures had proved their worth. But did they have abilities he didn't guess?
"Don't talk," he said as Gartok made to speak. "Don't move. Vibration could attract them."
"The engine-"
"Is a regular sound pattern, unusual but different from a living organism. Words are something else. We can do without them."
Remaining silent as the raft hurtled on its way, the rasping of alien bodies gone now, the shape tested and passed as a lifeless thing and not a deliberate breaking of the Pact. A chance Dumarest had taken, a gamble he hoped would succeed.
Before dawn, he thought. The journey should take them long enough to arrive a couple of hours before dawn. A good time, there was no need to wait longer than they had to and enough would remain of the night. Reaching for the controls he slowed the craft, mentally reviewing the terrain below. There would be hills, gorges, flat places, ravines a range of mountains which they should pass to the right.
Should pass, but if they had been diverted by the shower of impacts or a vagrant gust of wind they could hit and plunge to ruin.
Height would save them but the raft was small, the engine weak and the canopy had loaded the vehicle to capacity.
Cautiously he unsealed the port. Starlight shone like liquid silver on the ground below, shadows filling crevasses and distorting perspective. Turning he stared to one side and saw the loom of darkness against the blaze of stars. The mountains were too close. The raft veered as he adjusted the controls and, immediately, it shuddered to the impact of a rain of glancing blows.
"They're back!" Gartok's whisper was louder than a shout. "Earl, they're back!"
A gleam from the port, his face, a familiar silhouette- how to tell? The movement of the raft even, inert matter did not move in such a fashion. And yet still they could not be sure. Animals roamed unmolested as the Sungari gathered the night-mist but they were familiar. The raft was not. But attacked it had not retaliated and was therefore harmless.
The human method of thinking but the Sungari were alien and who could tell what motivations drove them? They shared this world with men and that was all anyone knew. A Pact had been made based on mutual noninterference but who had made it and how it had been made was forgotten.
Dumarest nodded, dozing, resting like an animal with one part of him alert while the others rested. Then, checking the instruments, he knew they must be close.
"Kars?" He heard the man grunt. "Are you awake?"
"I'm awake." The man edged his way forward. "Have we arrived?"
"We're close. Better get into the armor now. You first."
Plates of metal which fitted close, articulated joints, helmets to protect face and skull. Normal protection for mercenaries engaged in close-quarter fighting and now it would be an added protection.
Again Dumarest opened the sealed port. The raft was still riding high and for a moment he was completely disoriented then he saw a crevass, a desert naked in the starlight, a formation he had seen before.
"We're going down," he said. "Brace yourself."
He dropped fast, slowing at the last moment, moving forward to halt, to turn, to dart ahead again as he found the huts. They were set in line backed by the cookhouse and stores all now tightly sealed. The raft landed between them.