Snibril felt at a loose end.
Eventually he found Bane, who was leaning on the battlements over one of the main gates, looking out at the hairs. There were always guards here, with a bugle to warn the city in case of attack.
"Can't see anything," said Snibril. "We've sent patrols out. They didn't find anything."
"I wasn't looking for mouls," said Bane.
"What were you looking for, then?"
"Hmm? Oh. No-one," said Bane.
"A figure in white," said Snibril. "I've seen her, too."
"She has to watch, to make things happen ... " Bane seemed to pull himself together. "I don't like this," he said, briskly. "It's too quiet."
"Better than too noisy," said Snibril.
"How's your head?"
"Can't feel anything," said Snibril.
"Sure?"
"Feels fine."
"Oh."
Bane looked out at the special defences. Everyone who could be spared had worked on them, digging trenches in the dust and piling it up as a low wall. From the hairs, no-one could see anything.
"That's all Ware was, once," he said. "Just a ditch and a wall. And enemies all around."
"Glurk thinks the mouls have all gone. They must have heard us. Why do they attack us anyway?"
"Everyone's got to do something," said Bane, still gloomy.
"Look," said Snibril. "Everyone's ready. About as ready as they can be, anyway. We've blocked all the holes! What's going to happen next? You've got the Emperor in prison! What's going to happen afterwards?"
"Do you think there's going to be an afterwards?" said Bane.
"There's always an afterwards," said Snibril. "Glurk said that's what Culaina told you. The point is to get the afterwards you want."
He scratched his head. There was an itch behind his ear.
"There's a limit to how long we can stay ready, anyway," said Bane.
Snibril rubbed his ear again.
"Bane-!"
"If we're ready at all. I thought from what you said that the wights might help, but they just ran off-"
"Bane-!
Bane turned.
"Are you all right?"
Snibril felt that his ears were being pressed into the middle of his head.
"Fray?" said Bane.
Snibril nodded, and even that hurt.
"How long have we got?"
Snibril held out a hand, all fingers extended. Bane strode along the top of the wall to the nearest guard and picked up the bugle. Dust billowed out when he blew it.
It's a funny thing. When there's a warning signal, when people have known for ever that there's a warning signal, and that warning signal is sounded for the very first time ... people don't react properly. They wander out blearily saying things like "Someone's mucking about with the warning signal, aren't they?" and "Who's blowing the warning signal? That's for warnings, that is."
Which is what happened now. Bane looked down at the streets filled with bewildered people, and groaned.
"It's starting!" he shouted. "Now!"
A Dumii raised a hand uncertainly.
"Is this another practice?" he said. There had been a lot of practices in the last few days.
"No!"
"Oh. Right."
A moment later the air was filled with shouted orders.
Snibril sank to his knees as Ware emptied itself around him.
" ... squad three! Main square! Keep away from buildings! ... "
" ... bandages, bandages, who's got the bandages? ... "
" ... remember, they can come up from underneath! ... "
All Snibril wanted to do was crawl into a hole and pull it in after him. His head felt flat.
" ... OK, line up the pones! ... "
He could get away, anyway. Staggering, ignored by everyone else, he almost fell down the ladder from the battlements and groped his way towards the rail where he had tethered Roland. He pulled himself on to the horse's back and joined the flow of people leaving Ware.
Then the animals started to feel the effects of Fray. The pones, which were already outside the gate, started to trumpet. Horses neighed, and several bolted towards the hairs outside the city walls. Dogs and cats ran between the feet of the people.
They want to get away, Snibril thought dully.
The houses began to tremble, very gently.
Then, with no sound yet, the hairs that arched over the city began to bend.
Then came the creaking-long and drawn out, as thousands of hairs were forced downwards by the tremendous weight.
It's right overhead, Snibril thought.
The people leaving Ware didn't need any more encouragement. The hairs over the city were getting closer, groaning and creaking as the weight pushed them down.
We'll never do it all in time ...
Roland cantered through the arch of the gateway.
The walls collapsed. The ground moved like the skin of an animal, smashing the houses. Ware began to fall in on itself.
Snibril's ears popped. The relief almost made him want to cry.
He looked back at the city. Walls were still toppling as the Carpet itself bent under Fray, but nearly everyone had got out.
A couple of soldiers barrelled through the archway just before it broke.
Right over us, Snibril thought. As if something wants to kill us. But Pismire thinks Fray is just some kind of natural force we can't understand. Would that be any better? Thousands of us, killed by something that doesn't even know we are here?
There were a few people still visible outside the city, and nothing could hide the pones.
He looked at the hairs around Ware.
Which erupted mouls. He had time to turn Roland around and race back towards the city.
Bane's head poked up as Roland leapt over the ditch in the dust.
"There's thousands of them!"
"Wait until they get closer," said Bane.
Mouls and snargs were still pouring into the clearing.
Snibril looked along the ditch. At this point most of the defenders were Dumii bowmen, lying down calmly and watching the black wall moving towards them.
"Aren't they close enough yet?"
"Not yet," said Bane. "Sergeant Careus ... give the signal to be ready."
"Yessir!"
Snibril could make out individual creatures now.
Bane scratched his chin. "Not yet," he said, "not yet. The first shot is the most ... important."
There was a nicker on the mound of dust behind them. Snibril and Bane turned to see a white figure, staring intently at the onrushing horde. Then it vanished.
"Sergeant Careus?" said Bane quietly.
"Sir?"
"The moment is now."
Sergeant Careus threw back his shoulders and grinned.
"Yessir! Squad one ... wait for it, wait for it ... squaaaaad one ... fire! Squad one back! Squad two forward! Squaaaaad two ... fire! Squad one reload! Squad one forward! Squaaaaad one ... fire ... "
Not many people had even seen Dumii archers in action-or rather, they had, but since arrows had been heading towards them they'd never had much of a chance to make detailed notes. Their technique was simply to keep arrows flying towards the enemy. The bowmen didn't have to be good. They just had to be fast. It was like watching a machine at work.
There was a howl from the attackers. That was another Dumii lesson-hit the front line of a rushing attack, and the enemy had to spend too much time trying to avoid tripping over itself. Bowmen started hurrying along the ditch in both directions, leaving only a small squad to carry on the fight there.
Snibril went with them.
There had been archers all around the circle. Only in one place had the mouls been able to get right up to the ditch, and there were two fights going on-Deftmenes were fighting mouls, and other Deftmenes were fighting the first Deftmenes to get a chance to fight mouls too.
Deftmenes had a technique for fighting enemies three times as high as they were-they'd run up them until they got to shoulder height, and hang on with one hand and fight with the other. It meant that half the mouls were stabbing at their own heads.