Markan Throne

  Why did Dervra worry about the carpenters? Hingast shook his head. "If those sylphs are scouts, the enemy knows everything about us. How many war machines we have; how many soldiers and camp followers. If those sylphs are scouts, they'll know everything."

  Dervra glanced at his companion and held his tongue.

  "Have you learned anything more about this so-called Emperor?" Hingast spoke into the silence.

  Dervra pulled himself together. "Nothing more than we already know. Strangely, my sources say he commands the loyalty of the two Vintner claimants."

  "They're probably happy to leave him in place to take the blame if anything goes wrong," grunted Hingast. "Or waiting for the right moment to depose him and return things to a more natural order. A sylph as Emperor. Laughable."

  "But true. Rumors persist of an ilven in the palace, but how she got there I've no idea." Dervra had several ideas, but had no intention of enlightening Hingast.

  An ilven, when none had inhabited this continent for decades, if not centuries. "Siranva's daughters are not renowned for their seafaring skills, Dervra. That suggests to me that somebody brought her here. Where from and why?"

  "The why worries me more."

  Hingast recognized the evasion. "Are you sure Sandev is the only one of the Ten in Marka? Can you handle two?"

  Dervra's eyes narrowed. He must remember that this man forgot nothing. "The only other Sandev can reach is Grayar. Leave him to me."

  "Any details of siege preparations?" pressed Hingast. "Mikhan knows the work, he even writes pamphlets."

  "Assume that they're making ready."

  "Stop the raids against the farmers," commanded Hingast, quietly. "If there is to be a long siege, I want the farmers available to us. Send orders to the raiders."

  Dervra gave no sign as to whether or not he agreed with the order. As long as he carried it out, the claimant couldn't care less what the man thought.

  "And we must assume that they're aware of our reinforcements," continued Hingast. "Always assume the worst; that way all surprises are pleasant."

  Dervra raised an eyebrow.

  "And I doubt if they'll call their scouts in when we arrive." His gray-blue eyes stared at the other man calmly. "They'll leave them outside Marka; sylphs don't need cities to survive. They can live anywhere. They can even eat grass. Marka will be... interesting."

  Dervra's face showed agreement. "Talking of sylphs, what do you intend for this Emperor? A noisy hunt?"

  Hingast smiled. "That will depend on my mood. When I lay my hands on him I may just kill him, if I'm feeling aggrieved over something. If I'm feeling sporty, we'll have that nice noisy hunt. And if I'm in a good mood? We shall find a special cage to house this pretend Emperor, a place where he can be comfortable on public view. As he'll spend the rest of his life in that cage, it had better be very comfortable." He laughed. "We'll display him in Eldova as part of a freak show. Or perhaps I'll just kill him anyway. That's a three-in-four chance he'll end up dead."

  Satisfied that Zenepha was doomed, Dervra nodded. "I hope you're not growing overconfident. It's never good for your enemy to know everything."

  "The city will be in our hands sooner than you think. I swear on my life."

  "On your life? Then perhaps it is time to end Sandev's grip on power." Dervra looked to be in a much better mood than he had for days.

  ***

  Ean-y-Felis crept closer. Though he had helped train the wild sylphs who wanted to be scouts, to be sent into the field with two had annoyed him. A hasty, if intensive, couple of weeks training could never replace the proper teaching potential scouts usually received. He was the only thoroughly trained scout of the three, which meant he must carry amateurs. Perhaps they had only been sent with him to relay his messages to Marka and keep him company. Which in turn meant he had all the really dangerous work to do.

  His opinion of them had improved since.

  The two with him insisted on doing their fair share of the work and they could formulate whistles properly, not just relay them. They had done well and Ean could not fault them.

  He nodded approval to Aksanvun, who had spotted the fleeing infertile. Ean shared the other scout's confusion as to why the sylph should be running. He then saw the large dog pounding grimly uphill after the small sylph. It looked more wolf than hound: a hunting dog. An escaped dog, or did someone in Hingast's army train it to hunt sylphs? They could easily work out why. The second wild sylph, Tilipha, touched Ean's arm.

  "Shall we get the girl?"

  "Good idea." Ean gave instructions quickly. All three were in position moments later, ready to head the infertile off and swing her into a tree, away from the dog. It looked like Ean would get her. As she ran breathlessly into the forest, the scout darted out from behind his tree and grabbed her.

  "If you want to live, keep quiet and climb!" he hissed.

  Silvery gray eyes wide with terror, the sylph bit off a scream and all but flew up the tree. Ean encouraged her to jump from tree to tree, until they reached a stream, when he directed her to climb out along a branch and swing into a tree on the other side. From there he helped her down and out of the foliage, back to the ground. Aksanvun and Tilipha rejoined him.

  "That dog is still at the bottom of the first tree," grinned Tilipha.

  "Strange it does not bark," remarked Ean.

  The infertile had a fist pressed to her mouth, perhaps to keep screams inside. Wide-eyed, her earpoints slanted backwards in her hair in fear. If anything, she looked more terrified since her rescue than before it. She stared at all three painted sylphs as if they were ghosts.

  "You are safe from the dog," Ean told her. "They cannot follow a scent across water, or into air. Why does it chase you?"

  The captive sylph looked carefully into all their eyes. For some reason, her fear eased a little.

  Ean waited patiently.

  "They train dogs to capture sylphs," she replied, after a brief pause. "Show where they are." She saw two of the sylphs wore no collars and began to look frightened again. "To show where the enemy scouts are."

  The scouts exchanged glances.

  "We are sylph scouts," Ean told her. "We work for the Emperor of Marka."

  The infertile stared at each of them in turn. "They say you have eyes of fire and stand taller than any other sylph."

  "No eyes of fire," Ean assured her.

  "You have followed us for days."

  Tilipha laughed. "For weeks."

  "What will the dog do when it finds you?" demanded Ean.

  "Stand guard over me," replied the infertile.

  "Will he hurt you?"

  "Only if I try to escape."

  "What is your name?" Ean smiled.

  "Meylka."

  Aksanvun and Tilipha exchanged a confused glance and twitched their earpoints.

  "Pretty name. Care for your owner?" Ean widened his eyes questioningly.

  Meylka nodded.

  "Tell him now we know about the dogs, we will find a way to make sure the dogs never find us. We have no argument with sylphs; you may go."

  The infertile needed no urging. After a last look at the scouts, she slipped away and almost immediately began to run.

  "We should take her with us," said Aksanvun. "She will tell."

  Ean smiled. "Let her tell her owner we have learned of the plan to use dogs. They will abandon it."

  "Why?"

  "You seem certain," added Aksanvun.

  "We will invent a counter to their dogs. Humans are clever and can work around any problem."

  Neither of the wild sylphs looked convinced. "What if she did not care for her owner?" asked Tilipha. His brow furrowed.

  Ean smiled. "I would have invited her to come with us. As she is happy, I am content to leave her in peace."

  "You enslaved sylphs are confusing."

  Ean's smile broadened. "We must get far away from here. Soldiers will come looking."

  ***

  The memorial service touched Kytra. All
the sailors in Hejiller were present, together with the families of the dead. The imhotep who led the service even managed to say nice things about Lenar Frist, which amazed the sylph who had belonged to his ship.

  The ship – the part living in her – feared the reaction when people learned that Velvet Moon had sailed without the protection of her sylph and then been lost to the sea. But everybody expressed condolences and gave the ship their sympathies.

  Kytra had other concerns. Being a young sylph, with most of her life ahead of her, she wanted a new ship. Surely there could not be two ship masters like Frist. But the local shipbuilders doubted if there would be another Velvet Moon built in the near future. If ever; some names gained a reputation.

  Now that she officially belonged to nobody, she was supposed to sleep at the orphanage. There the Matron changed her bandage every day and inspected her wound. Her damaged earpoint refused to regain any movement and Kytra's disappointment grew. It hung limp whenever Ceren removed the bandage. The matron could only commiserate; she could do nothing to help.

  Kytra spent her days at the docks, chatting with friends and the other ship sylphs. She missed the sea and grew gradually more despondent. She sat at the end of the longest quay, watching ships come and go. She stared longingly at the headlands, beyond which lay the endless ocean. She sometimes forgot to return to the orphanage, when a constable would come to collect her. That the other – comparatively free – ship sylphs saw this only added to her humiliation.

  Every day she hoped to hear of a new ship being built. She pestered the outlander ship sylphs and asked about new ship orders in their ports. If the name Velvet Moon was used at their home.

  Every day, she returned to the orphanage disappointed.

  ***

  Chapter 16

  Siege

  Marcus Vintner regarded Aylos Jalan expressionlessly. From the height of Jablon's back, he watched Aylos's assistants plant three strangely shaped columns into the ground. Fixed to thin wooden stakes, the tall affairs had pointed tops and what looked like paper protruding beneath like tails.

  Marcus and the scientist were not alone. Several purple cloaked Guardsmen surrounded the rejected claimant, and General Ranallic sat on his own horse nearby. Belaika stood beside Jablon, and Bascon – who claimed to want some exercise – stood behind his brother scout.

  The display area stood well away from the buildings and Marcus wondered why Aylos's two sylphs had been wandering about the farmhouse's thatched roof, wetting it with buckets of water, when he arrived.

  While the civilians prepared the demonstration, Marcus and Ranallic discussed caravans. One from Calcan, receiving Ranallic's order to turn back too late, had still not arrived. Several other caravans had disregarded the orders passed on by sylphs, as for them Marka was the nearest haven. But the rest had turned back, the danger from Hingast's approach now too great for them to continue.

  "Almost ready," said Aylos, looking apprehensive. His future depended on this.

  Aylos had lobbied hard for people to attend this demonstration. Mansard had dismissed the inventor, but Ranallic had listened carefully. And made his recommendations to Marcus, who would otherwise not be here. Marshal Mikhan also showed an interest, but claimed duties kept him elsewhere.

  Aylos knew his city faced great peril from the approaching Hingast, and this only increased his eagerness to prove the firepowder. If the demonstration went well, he hoped for permission to continue his work within the walls. He did not want to fall into Hingast's hands.

  Aylos glanced unhappily at the horses, fearing a stampede. "You should dismount and secure the animals," he suggested. "They will not enjoy this."

  "These are trained warhorses," countered Ranallic. "They are disciplined."

  "They do not know firepowder."

  Ranallic looked at Marcus, who shrugged almost imperceptibly and swung out of his saddle. One by one, the other men followed their leader's example, but held their reins in one fist.

  The two sylphs helping Obert fix the columns returned. They smiled uncertainly at the scouts and one gave a hand signal. Belaika and Bascon clearly understood it, as both looked startled. They blinked at each other, then stared at Marcus, wide-eyed and earpoints slanted sharply back.

  Detecting their mood, Marcus wondered what might happen.

  "What do you call those things?" he asked Aylos.

  "Rockets," replied the scientist. "Obert designed and built them, but the powder inside is my recipe." He grinned. "Only Tredden and Baylan, Obert and myself know what that is."

  Marcus looked at the rockets again, where Obert stood with a burning taper. It refused to be extinguished in the breeze and he wondered if this was another invention.

  "And you can produce them quickly?" asked Ranallic.

  "I will need one hundred helpers," replied Aylos. "That will guarantee a steady supply until the ingredients run out."

  Marcus raised an eyebrow.

  Aylos turned and nodded to Obert, who set the taper to the tails of the rockets, quickly checked to ensure all three burned properly and ran as fast as he could back to the small group.

  With three whooshes, the rockets followed each other skywards, watched by all. Human and sylph mouths fell open in wonder. There were three barely audible pops, one after the other.

  Marcus's mouth twisted in disappointment. "That's not very –"

  BANG! BANG! BANG!

  Men, horses and scouts screamed in terror at the explosions. The men recovered first and wrestled with horses that suddenly wanted to be elsewhere. Belaika and Bascon scrabbled for cover in the dirt, eyes wide and earpoints wilted.

  "– impressive," completed Marcus.

  Even the sylph scouts needed time to regain composure and the horses longer still before they settled. Even now, as the scouts sat up and grinned uncertainly at each other, their earpoints betrayed inner fear. Belaika in particular looked unsteady as he pulled himself upright.

  Marcus stroked his chin. "Useful for frightening the enemy, but I suspect that will work but once." His eyes met those of Aylos. "Any other uses for this... firepowder?"

  "Oh yes." Aylos nodded. "Using the slow-match designed by Obert, it is possible to pack powder inside a wooden ball and catapult it at the enemy. The wooden ball explodes once the match has burned into it, scattering fragments in all directions."

  A small smile played about Marcus's lips. "Exploding wooden balls."

  "Killing all within reach."

  "Hmm."

  "It has potential," said Ranallic. "If we pack small pieces of metal with the powder, it would cause more casualties."

  Marcus nodded. "That would be even more effective. If vicious."

  "All wars are vicious." Ranallic shrugged. "If only we have this weapon, we hold the advantage."

  Marcus nodded again. "For a short while."

  Aylos looked from one to the other.

  Marcus turned to the scientist and his assistants. "You get your hundred helpers."

  Aylos smiled and bobbed a bow.

  Marcus continued. "After speaking to the Emperor, I'm sure he'll grant you permission to continue your work within the city walls. You'll also be charged with producing as much of this powder as is humanly possible in the time left to us." A small smile played about his lips. "I'm sure the Supreme Council will also be pleased to hear of your success."

  A huge smile blossomed on Aylos's face. "Thank you, thank you." He bowed again.

  Marcus smiled back. "Your firepowder could prove decisive." He remounted Jablon. "Be ready to move this afternoon. His Majesty will concur with my decision."

  Aylos smiled. "The Emperor is wise."

  ***

  "Anya, two guardsmen to see you. With a sylph."

  Sandev followed Caya to the open door. Two guardsmen supported a battered sylph between them. The creature's earpoints hung limp and he dangled from the burly officers' arms, his feet splayed behind. An aroma of beer emanated from him, and some still dripped from his body. Smudged
blue blood covered his exposed skin and his nose looked to be broken.

  "Beggin' pardon, Ma'am," said one of the guardsmen, "but we think he's one of yours. We think that's what he kept trying to say."

  The sylph looked up and gurgled something incoherent.

  Sandev's expression grew more concerned. "Janin!"

  Caya grimaced.

  "He is one of mine. Bring him in, bring him in. Stanak!"

  "I'm here." The bodyguard took Janin from the guardsmen and cradled him in his arms before carrying him deeper into the villa.

  Sandev turned back to the guardsmen. "Thank you for bringing him; you may go."

  Wary of Sandev at the best of times, the guardsmen bobbed their heads and left quickly, shown the way by Caya. Curiosity roused, the female sylph then followed Sandev and Stanak.

  Stanak gently laid Janin down. Difficult with all the cuts and bruises he could see; the sylph had received a hard beating.

  "A beggar." Caya wrinkled her nose. "Stinking of bad beer and other things."

  The object of Caya's disgust looked up, eyes barely focused, but he remained silent.

  "Oh poor Janin, what's happened to you?" asked Sandev, quietly.

  The sylph beggar turned, but his eyes suddenly glazed and he lapsed into unconsciousness.

  "He's drunk." Shock now mingled with Caya's disgust.

  Stanak wrapped the sylph in a blanket. "We'll find out what happened to him when he's slept it off," he said. "We need warm water for when he wakes."

  Caya sniffed. "He is dirty, he needs hot."

  "He's unused to hot water," countered Stanak. "He'll think we want to scald him. Prepare warm." His gaze augured into the female sylph, but she only looked at Sandev, who nodded.

  "Se bata." The female sylph padded out of the room.

  Sandev watched her go. "She'll sulk. I must go to her."

  Stanak nodded. "I'll look after Janin." He couldn't care less if Caya threw a strop. Any water hotter than warm would do the boy no good.

  His employer nodded her thanks and walked after her sylph. The bodyguard's attention returned to the prone sylph, whose head protruded from the blanket, the rest of him wrapped securely. The beggar muttered, lapsing into unconsciousness almost as quickly as he woke. His earpoints lashed about, suggesting he was not properly asleep. He fumbled for a corner of the blanket and clung to it.

  "When you wake, my lad, you'll have quite a head on you," chuckled Stanak, patting the sylph's shoulder. "It should last for hours, which some might say serves you right."