‘Have you been in contact with General Troist?’ asked Yggur.
‘I have, and he gave me heart. His troops are well armed, well trained, and he has supplies stockpiled. Moreover, he has a keen eye for the weaknesses of the enemy and how best to attack them.’
Yggur looked questioningly at Flydd. Flydd nodded.
‘If they take Borgistry,’ said Yggur, ‘western Lauralin must fall and then sooner or later the whole continent will be lost. But while Borgistry survives, the enemy can’t control the west. We’ll do it.’
‘How soon can we be ready to strike?’ said Flydd. He went over to study the map that covered half of one wall. Yggur joined him, measuring distances with a length of string. ‘Troist could be there in nine days.’
‘Two weeks for us,’ said Nish. ‘All the thapters need work, and three of the air-floaters. They can’t go to war the way they are.’
‘Two weeks!’ Flydd cried. ‘What if the enemy come out sooner? Why do they hibernate anyway? Merryl?’
‘In order to survive in the void,’ said Merryl, ‘they flesh-formed their unborn to the limit. They made themselves the most formidable fighters ever seen, but it came at a cost. They have to hibernate for at least a month every year to repair the damage the past year has caused.’
‘So it’s a necessity, not just a custom,’ mused Flydd. ‘Good – all the less likely that they’ll cut it short. Even so, we’ve got to be ready sooner.’
‘Well, Nish?’ said Yggur.
‘If all our work goes perfectly,’ Nish said, ‘and we get just the right weather when we’re flying, we might be ready to attack in ten or eleven days. But things never go perfectly, so I can’t possibly promise less than twelve.’
‘Perfect!’ Flydd conferred with Klarm and Yggur. ‘A strike in ten days will catch them still lethargic from hibernation.’
‘But I just said –’ Nish began desperately. Allowing three days for the slow air-floaters to fly there, it meant he only had seven days rather than the nine or ten he needed.
‘The attack is set for ten days. Be ready!’
The first thapter flight left eight days later, and Yggur wasn’t pleased at the delay. It carried Klarm, an advance guard and a number of devices that had been made in the eastern manufactories. The destination was an isolated valley north-east of Strebbit, where everyone would rendezvous with Troist’s army, then march down to encircle the bowl-shaped depression in which the cave mouth lay.
Now it was the following day, and Nish hadn’t slept for two nights. One of the thapters was still being repaired after crashing into a small tree in darkness, and the floater-gas generator on Gorm’s air-floater had failed and had to be completely taken apart, though even then no one could work out what was wrong with it. Yggur came down to Nish’s shed every hour, demanding to know when they would be ready, which only made matters worse.
‘I knew this would happen,’ Nish raged when Yggur turned up for the fifth time that morning. ‘I told you it couldn’t be done.’
‘I don’t like excuses,’ said Yggur frostily.
There were plenty when your work wasn’t done on time! Nish thought, though he was wise enough not to say it. ‘It’s not an excuse. It’s reality. Things go wrong and you have to allow time for it. I’m not a magician –’
‘When will the last machines be ready?’ Yggur snapped.
‘Tomorrow morning, at the earliest.’
Yggur scowled. ‘That’s not good enough.’
Nish had had enough. He threw his tools on the ground. ‘If you can do better, you’re welcome to try.’
To his surprise, Yggur merely said, ‘Get it done,’ and disappeared again. Then he ducked his head around the door. ‘Where’s Tiaan?’
‘She’s still not back from her node survey with Malien.’
‘But they knew we needed Malien’s thapter for the offensive. We’ve been planning it for months.’
‘It wasn’t supposed to be for a couple of weeks yet.’
‘Does she have a farspeaker with her?’
‘Yes. Flydd tried to call her again last night. He couldn’t make contact.’
‘Better try again.’
As if Nish didn’t have enough to do. He ran his fingers through his tangled hair. He hadn’t eaten since this time yesterday, nor bathed in a week. Slamming the door of his shed, he headed across the yard. Piles of supplies were stacked wherever space could be found. Dozens of lean-to sheds had been constructed against the walls. Two more thapters were being loaded. Three air-floaters, being much slower, were long gone. People were running everywhere.
Weaving through the yard, Nish was stopped a dozen times by people who needed to be told what to do. He finally climbed the steps with a sigh of relief, but as he went through the doors someone called his name from the other end of the hall. Not recognising the fellow, Nish turned left into a cross-passage that was mercifully empty, then left again to the circular stair that ran up to one of the repaired horned towers.
He was panting by the time he reached the top, a round chamber of naked stone with arrow slits, through which the drizzle-laden wind whistled. Nish pulled his coat around him. The spring weather was the same as winter’s, only wetter.
He peered through a slit that was out of the direct path of the wind. The rain came in waves. Nish shook his head, which felt as though it was full of spiderweb. The farspeaker operator’s bench was between two embrasures, fenced off with flapping walls of canvas that broke the worst of the wind. Merryl was sitting there.
‘Oh,’ said Nish. ‘I was looking for … whatever his name was.’
‘I’ve taken over for the day. Do you want to send a message?’
‘I didn’t know you had the talent.’
‘Neither did I,’ said Merryl cheerfully, ‘though farspeaking doesn’t take much. You could probably do it yourself.’
‘I doubt it. Anyhow, I don’t have time to learn.’
‘My father was a bit of a sensitive, so Yggur had me tested and found I could use the globe, and here I am. The only tricky part is changing the settings.’
‘I was trying to contact Tiaan,’ said Nish. ‘She’s supposed to have been back days ago. We need her thapter; and her field maps.’
‘I tried earlier, but no luck. I’ll change to her settings and have another go.’
Merryl consulted a sheet covered in cryptic symbols. He selected one, took Golias’s globe in his hand, steadied it against the table with his stump, pressed and twisted. The inner globes spun, the light flashing off them in dozens of colours. Merryl squeezed and the layers locked.
He held the globe up, inspecting it minutely. ‘No, that’s not right. Sorry, Nish. It’s a bit tricky.’
‘Take your time,’ said Nish, sitting down in the other chair. ‘I’m glad of the break. I can’t remember when I last had a full night’s sleep.’ He leaned back against the cold wall and closed his eyes, listening to the globes spinning, again and again.
‘That’s better,’ said Merryl. ‘Hello, Tiaan, this is Merryl, calling for Nish. Are you there?’
He repeated his call over and over, until Nish, lulled by the softness of his voice, drifted into sleep.
‘Hoy, Merryl?’ It was Yggur, calling from the stairs. ‘You haven’t seen Nish, have you?’
Nish’s feet struck the floor. ‘He’s here with me,’ Merryl called back after a decent pause. ‘We’re trying to contact Tiaan.’
Yggur entered the room. ‘I assume you’ve had no luck. Nish, half the yard is looking for you and it seems none of them can wait.’
Nish levered himself up, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.
‘No luck at all with Tiaan,’ said Merryl. ‘Nor anyone else.’
‘I spoke to Klarm earlier, in Strebbit,’ said Yggur.
‘But Klarm has a master farspeaker,’ said Merryl. ‘Tiaan only carries a slave. Master to master goes a lot further.’
‘Keep trying; we need her thapter. And give Klarm another call; find out if he’s rendezvoused with Troist yet.’ Yggur went down the stairs again.