And, "We have to get that pane replaced." He moved to the library door behind Chaz, blocked that against the rush of his men.
"Whatever it was, it shot something at me. It ricocheted off the window frame into the laboratory. Watch where you step. Find it." He took an oil lamp from Preacher, cautiously returned to the window. He leaned out and dropped the lamp.
Down it plunged to smash on the foot of the Rock. He caught one glimpse of something scuttling into darkness. "What was it? A demon?" Chaz asked. "No. It was mortal. There was no strain on the web. But exactly what manner of mortal I don't know." "Here," Soup called.
Rider joined him, looked where he pointed. "A dart. Get tongs. Handle it with care. Let's see if we can't find another around Odehnal."
"This Shai Khe is some nice fellow," Chaz observed. "Kills anybody ... Caracene. Where did that woman get to?"
"I think Odehnal getting got got her moving," Greystone said. He indicated the exit door. It stood open a crack.
"Su-Cha," Rider said. "You follow her. I'll keep in touch through the web."
"Thought you had her on the web," Chaz said. "Not anymore. She figured she was marked and negated it. Su-Cha."
"Yes sir, boss, sir." The imp dived out the window. This time he did not howl on the way down.
Rider moved back to Kralj Odehnal. In a moment he found the lethal dart. "The bodies pile up.
And still we make no progress."
"At least they aren't our bodies," Chaz said. "That thing could have gotten one of us as easily as it got Odehnal."
"A point we were meant to take, I'm sure," Rider observed. "A bit more caution from now on, friends. Omar. I want you to fix that window. Soon."
"What do we do now?" Preacher asked.
"We find a place called Polybos House and something called the Devil's Eyes. We stay in touch with the web. And we wait for something to happen."
In the other room the dead eyes of Jehrke Victorious seemed to gleam with approval.
XIV
Su-Cha returned soon after daybreak. He wore a chagrined look. "She shook me in the Protte rookery. I figured she'd cross to Henchelside, so I staked out King's Ferry. She never showed."
Soup snickered. Spud said, "We'll hear from her again. How can she resist that great chunk of beef?" He indicated Chaz, snoring in a chair.
Rider returned from setting Preacher and Greystone to searching land titles for a place called Polybos House. "Soup, you and Omar head down to the Golden Crescent. Look at ships recently in from the east. Find ships that carried unusual cargoes or passengers."
"Why?" Soup asked.
"Shai Khe's airship is a small one. He may have brought more men and equipment than it could have carried. He strikes me as careful and methodical. He would not have come unprepared for a difficult campaign."
Soup and Spud departed. They returned that evening with nothing to report. Preacher and Greystone had no luck either. Greystone said, "If a Polybos House exists it has to be outside the Wall." By that he meant outside the legal corporate limits. The city wall proper lay well inside those, and had been in decay for a century.
"Try again tomorrow," Rider said.
"What're you doing?" Preacher asked.
"Trying to analyze the poison on these darts. It's eluded me so far. Looks like something drawn from an insect, though."
Spud said, "The jungles of Maijan fester with poisonous bugs. And lizards and snakes and bats."
"I'll remember that next time I'm in the far east," Chaz grumbled. He was in a sour mood. He had spent the day washing alembics and retorts under the dead, cold eyes of Jehrke.
"Patience, friend," Rider chided. "Our turn will come."
"Soon, I hope." Chaz tested the window Spud had installed, for the hundredth time. "My nerves are getting me."
Soon did not come for four days.
It began with Soup and Spud. They had, at last, found a vessel whose origins and crew were suspect. After watching the ship, and noting the presence of men of both Emerald's and Shai Khe's races, they decided to contact Rider.
But their persistent presence over several days had betrayed them.
The attack was sudden and bold, initiated by a seaman who stepped into their path and shouted,
"At last my brother's daughter's honor will be avenged!" Another half dozen seamen joined him, a wild, scruffy gang of cutthroats.
Spud and Soup were not fooled. The easterner pointed a finger, declared, "You have the wrong men, friend."
The sailor collapsed.
Spud pointed at another man. He went down too.
Blades came out. A howl went up. More sailors materialized.
Soup, meantime, dipped a hand into his pocket and crushed a crystal. That sent a screaming shock through the web. Then he activated an amulet which Rider could track. Then he scattered fistfuls of what looked like gold coins.
Attackers and onlookers alike dived for the money.
Spud dropped another two men with his pointed finger, ducked inside a clumsy cutlass, buried a fist in a fat belly.
Soup's coins started an independent brawl. Then they exploded in the hands or pockets of those who had seized them.
Spud pushed away from the man he had punched. "Let's get out of here!" he yelled.
In the confusion that was not difficult. But ...
Soup laughed. "The idiots! Hoist by their own greed!"
"Oh-oh," Spud said.
"Yeah."
They had slipped into a breezeway to make their getaway. Their path, suddenly, was blocked by men of Emerald's ilk.
Retreat, too, vanished.
Tough-looking orientals had appeared behind them.
"The coin trick won't work this time."
"I didn't reload my spring gun."
"Been nice knowing you. Take it out on the gnarly guys?"
"Let's get them."
Preacher and Greystone had been butting their heads against a stone wall. There was no Polybos House within fifty miles of Shasesserre, at least on record. They were with Rider, plotting a new strategy, when the web relayed Soup's trouble cry.
"Ask around the merchants' taverns," Rider said, and loped out. A minute later he passed out the Citadel gate in a racing chariot, sounding a warning trumpet. Though the way was longer, he took the Via Triumpha, which by law was closed to wheeled vehicles. Because there was no commerce there, few pedestrians were about.
The Via's prime function was as a processional for military holidays, and for the celebration of major victories.
Rider swung off the Via Triumpha a quarter mile from where his men had found trouble. During his mad flight he had acquired an escort of City Guards, who had recognized him and were carrying warning ahead. They made passage through the waterfront district much easier.
So quick was Rider to reach the scene that the crowd had not yet dispersed. A dozen people lay unconscious, not yet carried off by comrades. "Collect these and deliver them to the Citadel,"
Rider told his escort. He left his chariot and set off after the moving disturbance the web noted as the location of his men.
He found the back-up ambush. There were signs of a vigorous fight, and spilled blood. Had Soup and Spud been slain, their bodies carried off with those of their enemies?