“But they’ve never masqueraded as humans!” Uwe exclaimed. “What could have been its motive?”
“Look at her, dressed in rags,” Amerie said. She knelt down in the light from the doorway to examine the goblin body. One of the Howler’s crude skin boots had dropped off in the struggle, exposing a humanoid foot, miniaturized but as perfectly formed as that of a child. There was a pathetic blister at the heel; evidently the little being had had to hurry to keep pace with the faster humans.
The nun replaced the boot, straightened the pipestem legs, closed the glazed eyes. “She was very poor. Perhaps she hoped to discover information valuable enough to sell.”
“To the normal Firvulag?” Burke suggested.
“Or to the Tanu.” The nun got up and dusted the front of her white habit.
Khalid said, “There might be others. Others who watched us at the smeltery. If this one could change to human shape, how will we ever be sure…”
Burke picked up the iron blade, grasped the metalsmith’s arm, and drew the rough lancehead across the skin. A few drops of dark blood sprang from the abrasion. “You’re real enough, anyhow. I’ll go test the rest of the crew right away. Later, we’ll work out something a little less crude. Pinprick, maybe.”
He limped away toward the bathhouse. Uwe and Khalid hauled the precious bags of iron into the rose-covered cottage, then returned to where Amerie stood over the body. She held the cat, which was still gently growling.
“What shall we do with her, Sister?” Khalid inquired.
Amerie sighed. “I have a large basket. Perhaps you can put her in the springhouse for me. I’m afraid I’ll have to dissect her tomorrow.”
As the Steering Committee waited for Chief Burke to return to the cottage, the Victualer in Chief offered samples of a new beverage. “We took some of that lousy raw wine of Perkin’s and steeped this little forest wildflower in it.”
Everybody sipped. Amerie said, “That’s nice, Marialena.” Uwe said something in German under his breath. “You know what you’ve done, woman? You’ve reinvented Mai-wein!”
“That’s it! That’s it!” Old Man Kawai piped. He was only eighty-six; but since he had declined rejuvenation on a matter of principle, he resembled an unwrapped Oriental mummy. “Most refreshing, my dear. Now if we can only produce a decent sake…”
The cottage door opened and Peopeo Moxmox Burke stooped to enter. The other committee members sat stark still until the red man gave a nod. “They were all kosher. I tested not only the smelters, but all the rest of the folks in the bathhouse as well.”
“Thank heaven,” said the Architect in Chief. “What a thought, shape-changers infiltrating our people!” He wagged his neatly trimmed muttonchops, managing to look like an accountant who had discovered that a valued client was cooking the books.
“Neither Firvulag nor Howlers had any reason to try this trick before,” the Chief warned. “But now, with the attack coming up and the iron as a maybe not-so-secret weapon, we’re going to have to be alert for other attempts. When the volunteers start arriving, every single one must be tested. And we’ll test all participants before every important meeting or briefing.”
“My responsibility,” said Uwe, who was Hunting and Public Safety. “Whip me up some needles, Khalid?”
“As soon as I can get the forge hot tomorrow.”
The Chief took his place with the other seven committee members around the table.
“All right, let’s get this over as quickly as possible so Khalid can get some rest. As Deputy Freeloader, I call this meeting of the Steering Committee to order. Old business. Structures. Let’s have it, Philemon.”
“The huts at the Rhine staging area have been completed,” said the architect. “Everything is ready there except the main shelter pavilion. The boys will have our Hidden Springs visitor dorm ready in another two or three days.”
“Good,” said the Chief. “Public Works. Vanda-Jo.”
A taffy-haired woman with the face of a madonna and the voice of a drill sergeant spoke up. “We’ve finished the masked trail from here to the staging area. A hundred and six bloody kilometers, invisible from the air. Corduroyed the last two kloms through the swamp, and all that wasn’t a bitch! Still putting up the thorn boma around the staging camp to keep most of the critters out and the recruits in.”
“How about the launching ramps?”
“Decided on pontoons. Inflated skins and boarding. Put ’em up at the last minute. Pegleg and his lads are contributing the skins.”
“Good. Hunting and Public Safety.”
“Nothing much new from me,” Uwe said. “Most of my people are working with Vanda-Jo or Phil. I’ve liaised with the commissary at High Vrazel to help with quantities of game and staples when the extra bods start arriving. And we’ve set up a procedure for processing new arrivals here at Hidden Springs before sending them to the river.”
“Sounds okay. Domestics.”
Old Man Kawai pursed his scored lips. “There is no way we can come up with more than a hundred boiled-leather hard hats and chest guards by D-Day. You know how long it takes to shape and dry that stuff, even with the forms filled with hot sand. The volunteers are just going to have to go mostly bare-ass unless you want our people deprived. Do shimasho? I’ve done my best, but I’m no miracle man.”
“The shortage can’t be helped,” Burke said soothingly. “How about the camouflage nets?”
“We’ll be putting the big one in position tomorrow, just in case they get back early with the exotic flyer.” The wizened ancient threw an anxious glance at the Chief. “Do you really, think they’ve got a chance, Peo?”
“Not much of one,” Burke admitted “But we won’t give up hope until the last hour before the Truce… Human Services.”
“Linen bandages ready,” Amerie said. “We’re assembling stores of oil and alcohol and all of the AB we can scrape up. Fifteen fighters have been rough-trained as front-line medics.” She paused, her face furrowed with determination. “I want you to change your mind about having me accompany the fighters, Peo. For the love of God, when will they need me more than in a battle?”
The Native American shook his head. “You’re the only doctor we have. Probably the only one in the Lowlife world. We can’t have you at risk. There’s the future to think about. If we do liberate Finiah, we may be able to de-torc other medical people. If we fail and the troops come across the Rhine to our staging area… it may be a long time until the next war. Our fighters will tend their own injuries. You stay here.”
The nun sighed.
“Industry,” said Burke.
“We brought back two hundred and twenty kilos of iron,” Khalid said. “Four of our men died. We have enough experienced people left to begin final work on the weapons as soon as we get some sleep.”
There were somber congratulations all around.
“Provisioning.”
“We’ve enough stored here to feed five hundred people for two weeks,” Marialena said. “That does not include the five tons of instant rations we’ll distribute to fighters going down to camp. You don’t want any cooking going on down by the Rhine where the Tanu might spot the smoke.” She pulled a handkerchief from the sleeve of her pink and yellow gown and mopped her ample brow. “Those poor souls are going to curse pemmican and parched bulrush roots before this thing is over.”