‘Plenty of point, just no use,’ said Yggur. ‘Oh, and I’ve found Merryl.’
‘Merryl?’ The scrutator frowned. So many names in the past couple of months. So many faces. ‘Ah, the one-handed prisoner. The fellow who speaks the lyrinx tongue. How did you find him?’
‘One of my spies was asking around and someone knew him. Merryl was in a refugee camp south of Gnulp Forest.’
‘Was?’
‘Well, he’s here now.’
‘Why didn’t you say so?’
Hurrying down to the other end of the fortress, they ran into Tiaan, who was talking to Malien. ‘We’re going to talk to your friend Merryl,’ said Flydd. ‘Would you like to come along?’
Her face lit up. ‘Merryl is here?’
‘Yes,’ said Yggur. ‘He came in with one of my spies on the air-floater this morning.’
Tiaan had a lump in her throat. Merryl had cared for her in Snizort, asking nothing in return, and she would always think kindly of him for it.
He was lying on a straw-filled pallet, asleep. His left arm, the one lacking a hand, hung over the edge of the bed. Merryl stirred as they entered, and sat up. He was very thin.
‘I am Yggur,’ said Yggur, ‘the master of this place, which is known as Fiz Gorgo.’
‘I know who you are, surr.’ Merryl’s eyes turned to the smaller man.
‘This is the scrutator, Xervish Flydd, and … where has she got to?’
Tiaan stepped out from behind Yggur.
‘Tiaan!’ Merryl reached out to her. ‘I saw the Aachim take you. I was so afraid.’
‘That’s a long time ago now. What have you been doing these past months?’
‘Surviving. I became a slave for my own kind, hauling clankers out of the mud.’
‘Me too,’ said Flydd. ‘Not an occupation with much to recommend it.’
Merryl gave him a curious glance. ‘After it was over, most of us were abandoned to our own devices. Some of the slaves joined the army, but I did not.’
‘Not willing to do your duty, Merryl?’ said Yggur.
‘I never shirked my duty, surr,’ Merryl said mildly, as if nothing anyone said could touch him. ‘And I’ve spent the past twenty years paying for it. Not liking what I saw of the scrutators, I pretended to be one of the peasants pressed into hauling duties, and afterwards I disappeared into the countryside.’
‘You must have had a lean time of it,’ said Flydd. ‘The armies had scoured the land bare.’
‘I went hungry more times than I ate, but I wouldn’t have changed anything. I’ve been a prisoner of the lyrinx for half my life. They treated me well enough but I lived with the threat of being eaten if my usefulness expired. After that, even the freedom to starve was a precious gift. Why did you bring me here?’
‘We need to know about the lyrinx, Merryl,’ said Yggur. ‘Particularly any weaknesses we can use against them.’
‘I’ll write out a list for you.’
‘Just tell us!’ said Flydd.
‘The thoughts don’t flow, with mancers and the like staring at me,’ said Merryl, unperturbed. After surviving all the enemy had done, no mere human could bother him. ‘I work better in solitude.’
‘Whatever gets us the list the quickest,’ said Flydd, turning away.
‘Just a moment,’ said Yggur. ‘Why did they make a tunnel to the centre of the Great Seep, and what did they find there?’
‘The remains of a village of ancient times, under edict for sorcerous practices, I understand,’ said Merryl. ‘Apparently the village sank into the tar and the lyrinx wished to recover some relics that had been lost at that time.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know. Since I knew their language, they were always careful what they spoke about in my presence.’
‘And what did they find?’
‘Bodies, young and old, preserved in the tar, and other household items of that time. Some yellow crystals which, I heard, they were excited about. I didn’t see the relics, for the node exploded.’
‘Do they have any diseases or illnesses?’ asked Flydd.
‘Not many. They’re healthy, robust creatures, generally.’
‘But their children are sometimes born malformed, lacking the ability to develop wings. Sometimes they’re born without armour, skin pigment or claws.’
‘That’s so,’ said Merryl. ‘Such malformations are common, but not all survive to adulthood.’
‘I heard,’ said Yggur, leaning forward, ‘that one lyrinx working in the tar tunnel developed a dreadful skin inflammation that rendered him helpless.’
‘I saw several with that affliction,’ said Merryl thoughtfully. ‘They were in such torment that they sloughed their outer skin, though that was as agonising as if the layers of our skin were peeled away.’
‘The less said about that the better,’ said Flydd, rubbing his upper thigh.
Merryl gave him a puzzled look. ‘Sometimes grit gets in between the armour and the inner skin, which is irritating to them. But this inflammation was much worse.’
‘Do you know what caused it?’ said Flydd. ‘Was it the tar?’
‘I believe it was a mould, or fungus.’
‘Do they often get this kind of complaint?’
‘I never saw it before, in all my time with them. It may have come from one of the relics they found in the tar.’
‘Thank you,’ said Yggur. ‘That’s most interesting.’
PART FOUR
GEOMANTIC GLOBE
FORTY-FIVE
Nish breathed a sigh as the last air-floater lifted. They were finally on their way to Snizort. Though the expedition was well behind schedule, no one could have done it more quickly, and what they’d achieved was nothing short of miraculous. All the pilots had flown Malien’s thapter, though few more than twice. That was his biggest worry, apart from the state of the abandoned constructs. He was afraid they would be too damaged to repair.
They arrived over the battlefield just before dawn. Everything had been rehearsed. The four air-floaters would fly low across the site as soon as it was light, while Nish and the other artificers identified those constructs in the best condition. The pilots and artificers would go to work and three air-floaters would wait on the ground. The fourth would take a wandering path over the battlefield, to raise the alarm if the enemy appeared. Snizort seemed to be abandoned but Nish wasn’t taking any unnecessary risks. There were too many necessary ones.
‘How long have we been working towards this day?’ he said, leaning on the rope rail of Inouye’s air-floater. The east was growing light, though there were still some minutes until sunrise.
‘It’s two months since we got back from Nennifer,’ said Irisis.
‘I never thought we’d get this far.’
‘Nor did I. But then, I try not to expect anything. Saves disappointment.’
‘How many constructs were abandoned here, do you recall?’
‘Tiaan said about five hundred.’
‘And how many of those could have been repaired,’ Nish wondered, ‘if the node hadn’t been destroyed?’
‘I wouldn’t have a clue.’
‘Imagine if we could bring a hundred thapters back,’ he said dreamily.
‘That would certainly be a marvel,’ she said dryly, ‘since you’ve only managed to train thirty pilots.’
He came back to reality. ‘True; but just imagine the look on Yggur’s face.’
‘If we manage to recover three he’ll be over the moon.’
The sun slid over the horizon like a jelly across a greased tray. The battlefield consisted of a series of hummocks, their tips just touched by light, surrounded by seas of shadow. ‘Not much snow left,’ said Nish.
‘It’s been windy in these parts.’ Klarm came up beside them and rested his forearms on the lower rail. He had a small bound volume in one hand.
‘Have you been here recently?’ Nish said carefully. Klarm did not talk about his spying missions.
‘Not in more than a month.’
‘But we wouldn’t expect to run into the enemy?’ They’d been over this before but Nish felt in need of reassurance.