A man in half-armour, which had been hastily strapped about his person, rode up urgently. "We are fleeing an army, sir. You would be warned not to go any farther in this direction."
"I'm grateful for the warning, sir. Whose army is it?" "We do not know," said a wretched woman with a cut across her brow. "They came upon us suddenly. They killed everything. They stole everything. They did not speak a word."
"Nothing justified. No threats. No chivalry," said the man in half-armour.
"I think, sir," said Groot, glancing at us for confirmation, which we readily gave, "that we will travel with you for a while."
"You would be wise, sir."
And so it was in the company of more than a thousand people that we took another road than the one we had originally hoped to follow, though we did not go back the way we had come. We were with them for almost two days. For the most part they were educated men and women: priests and nuns, astronomers, mathematicians, surgeons, lords and ladies, scholars, actors. And not one of them could understand why they had been attacked or who had attacked them, though there were many theories, some of them exceedingly farfetched. We could only conclude that these were mortal soldiers serving the Dukes of Hell, but even that was by no means certain, particularly since a few of the clerics had come to the familiar conclusion that their community had committed some dreadful sin against God and that God had sent the soldiers to punish them.
We departed from this concourse eventually and found upon our maps a fresh road to take us westward. But armies were galloping everywhere. We hid frequently, being too faint-hearted to offer battle to anyone who might be a minion of a Duke of Hell.
Yet now all the world seemed to be afire. Whole forests burst into flame; whole towns burnt as fiercely as ever Magdeburg had burnt.
"Ah," said Philander Groot, "it could be the End, after all, my friends."
"And good riddance to it," I said. "It is a poor world, a bad world, a decadent world. It expects love without sacrifice. It expects immediate gratification of its desires, as a child might, as a beast might. And if it does not receive gratification it becomes pettish and destroys in a tantrum. What's the use of seeking a Cure for its Pain, Philander Groot? What's the use of attempting, by any means, to divert it from its well-earned doom?"
"Because we are alive, I suppose, Captain von Bek. Because we have no choice but to hope to make it better, through our own designs." Philander Groot seemed amused by me.
"The world is the world," said Sedenko. "We cannot change it. That is for God to do."
"Perhaps He thinks it is for us to do," said Groot quietly. But he did not press this point. "Oh, look ahead! Look ahead! Is that not beautiful, gentlemen?"
It was a tall structure which reached to the sky, all curves and angles of crystal. A great building of glass and quartz such as I had never seen before.
"It's gigantic," said Sedenko. "Look inside. There are trees growing there. It is like a jungle."
Philander Groot put fingers to lips and drew his brows together. Then his face cleared. "Why, it is the famous aviary of Count Otto of Gerantz-Holffein. Shall we go through it, gentlemen? You will see that the road passes directly into the aviary and out the other side. I did not realise it was so close. I have heard of it, but never seen it before. Count Otto is dead now. His obsession was with exotic birds. He had the aviary built by a friend of mine many, many years ago. That is why it is full of trees, you see. Trees for the birds. And it still stands! It was a miracle of architecture. Or are you nervous? Should we skirt the place?"
"We'll go through," said Sedenko.
"I should like to see it," I agreed. I felt that I would be glad of any relaxation, however temporary.
"Count Otto was so proud of his aviary and his collection of birds that he insisted on all travellers visiting it," said Philander Groot, "which is why he had the road going through it." He seemed genuinely delighted.
As we came closer I saw that the entrance to the vast aviary was overgrown and neglected; it seemed to have been abandoned for years. I listened for birdsong. I heard a noise, a kind of chattering and murmuring, like the inner musings of a disconsolate giant.
"Count Otto had at least one example of every known bird," said Philander Groot as he led the way into the miniature jungle. Branches tangled over our heads, but the road was fairly clear. "When he died his nephew would have nothing to do with the aviary. That is why it is now as it is."
There was a strong odour of mould and ancient undergrowth and far ahead of us, through soft, diffused, greenish sunlight, I saw the glitter, I thought, of bright feathers.
"It's a large enough bird," said Sedenko. He glanced about him. "A perfect place for Klosterheim to set an ambush…"
"He's behind us," I reminded the Muscovite.
"He has hellish aid," said Philander Groot. "He is now one of Arioch's chief generals. He is not constrained by the considerations of mortals; not at present. But no one place is any more dangerous to us than another, given the powers Klosterheim commands."
"Is that why you seem so insouciant. Philander Groot?" I asked the dandy-magus.
He turned to me with a smile and was about to speak when it came crashing out of the foliage.
It was at least four times the size of a horse and limping on three of its legs. The other, the right foreleg, was lifted above the ground and had plainly been wounded a long while. Its scales were what I had seen and mistaken for feathers: primarily glowing reds and yellows. Its gaping jaws were full of silvery teeth, and its heavy tail thrashed behind it like the tail of an angry cat.
It came at us with incredible speed. Groot went one way, Sedenko the other, and I had drawn my sword and was left facing the lame dragon.
I had no experience of dragon-fighting. Until now I had not believed that such creatures existed. This one did not breathe fire, but its breath stank mightily. And it meant us harm. There was no doubt of that.
My horse was shrieking with terror and trying to escape, but I knew that I could not flee and live. I struck at the beast's snout with the point of my sword and drew blood. It roared and snapped, but it slowed its progress. I struck again. It half-reared on its hind legs, unable to strike with its single front leg without toppling forward. I rode past it, leaping over the thrashing tail and forcing it to turn, its passage hampered by the heavy tree-trunks. Silver teeth snapped at my sleeve and caught some flesh. I cried out, but I was not seriously hurt. I glimpsed Philander Groot and Sedenko riding up behind the dragon, striking at it with their own swords.
I was being forced farther and farther back into the undergrowth until I came to a great wall of glass and was trapped. Again the dragon's head darted down and the teeth narrowly missed me, fastening on the neck of my horse which screamed. I fell backwards out of the saddle as the horse was lifted clear of the ground. I landed heavily, amongst branches, and began to get to my feet at once.
The horse was dead, hanging twitching in the dragon's jaws. It sniffed at the air for a moment before dropping the beast, which crashed down a few yards from me. The dragon plainly had me for its prey and would be satisfied with nothing else. I had only my sword for protection. I tried to crawl into the cover of a large tree-trunk, but I knew there was nowhere I could find safety in that ruined aviary.
Glass cracked as the dragon's tail struck it. From the roof came a strange chiming and then, as if awakened, a flock of varicoloured birds went flapping upwards, twittering and crying. Then they began to descend upon the corpse of the horse. They ignored the fight and the dragon ignored them. They began to feed.