"I quote," growled Jorian: " 'So convenient a thing it is to be a reasoning being, for it enables one to think up a plausible reason for whatever one wishes to do.'"
"The wise Cidam?"
"Nay; our home-grown Novarian philosopher Achaemo. But, my reverend old spooker, my task needs at least two persons."
"Take Zerlik," said Karadur. "The lad will be delighted."
"What, and have to wipe that idiot's nose at every step? No, thank you! He'd do something silly at the critical moment, such as challenging the captain of the guard to a duel just when I was trying to hoist Estrildis out undetected."
"At least, he is reasonably strong and agile. I am neither, nor am I any longer up to such desperate adventures. Another journey like ours around the Inner Sea would terminate this incarnation for me."
"You can still cast a dire spell, which Zerlik cannot. But let's leave the question of personnel for the nonce to discuss the vehicle. How about that royal copper bathtub?"
Karadur wagged his head. "Alas, I see no prospect of obtaining it for your purpose. Even supposing that I could persuade the king to lend it—"
"Build another like it, then."
"That were too costly. It would come to hundreds of royals, and I have no funds in this year's appropriation to cover it.
"Furthermore, you appear not to realize the practical difficulties. It would require months of the most puissant sorcery to entrap our demon and compel him to our will. For such an enterprise, my best men were Goelnush, Luekuz, and Firaven, but they are fully occupied with keeping Hoshcha's Tunnel dry. The other sorcerers at my command are all less competent. Old Oinash, for ensample, is but a doddery old time-server awaiting his pension. Barch, a younger man, is gifted but careless. Twice he has barely escaped sudden death at the claws of a hostile demon he had evoked, through some silly error in his pentacle; but he never seems to learn. As for Yanmik—"
"Why not put these dimmer flames on the tunnel—which must now be mere routine—to release your best men for my spell?"
"The king has forbidden it. He is fain not to have the wizard on duty sneeze and let in the floods just as he is traversing the tunnel on his tryst with Sahmet. Therefore he insists that my best men be kept at this task. And speaking of the king, there is—ah—umm—another complication."
"What's this? Out with it!"
"The—ah—His Majesty but this morn forbade me to assist you in any way in leaving Iraz. He must be apprehensive as to what might befall him if you were not present at the next full moon to pleasure the priestess."
Jorian glowered. "Curse it, you hauled me away from a good, respectable job, where I was at least geographically near to my darling, to this distant and turbulent city, on the promise of getting me means to rescue her. All you needed, you said, was to become director of the House of Learning, and the fish was in the creel. Well, thanks to my clockery, you're now director—and what happens? You can't do this for this reason, and you can't do that for that, and so on. I can make things hot for people who betray me—"
"My son, my son! Pray, take not that harsh and hostile tone. At the moment, I admit I envisage no easy thoroughfare to your noble goal. Only have patience, and the gods will open the way for us. They have never met—yes, Nedef?" Karadur changed from Novarian to Penembic. "O Jorian, this is our official scryer; Master Nedef, I present Jorian the Kortolian, our new clockmaster. You were saying?"
"Doctor Karadur," said the scryer, "I fear I have portentous news."
"You may speak before Master Jorian."
"Iraz is threatened by a host of assailants."
"Eh? Vurnu, Kradha, and Ashakal What assailants? We are at war with none."
"May I sit, sir? I am weak with what I have seen."
"By all means, sit. Now tell us forthwith."
The scryer drew a long breath. "North, east, south, and west—they converge upon us from all sides. Prom the west comes a fleet of Algarthian pirates; from the south, a rabble of armed peasants under Mazsan and his faction; from the east, a swarm of Fediruni nomads on camels; and from the north, a Free Company of mercenaries from Novaria."
"How nigh are they?"
"Some are nigher than others; they may reach us on the morrow."
"How got the Fedirunis past the army along our eastern borders? Have they defeated the frontier force?"
"I know not, Doctor. They were already well inside the border when I discovered them."
"We must notify the king instanter," said Karadur.
They found King Ishbahar at his afternoon repast, which he called "tea."
"Sit down, sit down, our dear fellows!" he cried. "Have a cup of genuine tea, brought at vast expense from Kuramon in the Far East. Have some of these honey biscuits to go with it. Try some of these sardines. Have you tea in Novaria nowadays?"
"It can be obtained, Your Majesty," said Jorian, "but it has never really taken hold. Perhaps the fact that the upheavals in Salimor cut off the supply from time to time have discouraged its use. Howsomever—"
"The Novarians ought to take it up," said Ishbahar. "They are too much given to drunkenness, we hear. A pleasant but nonintoxicating drink were better for their health." The king bit off the end of a huge plantain from Beraoti. "Moderation in all things is our guilding principle. Temperance." The plantain rapidly diminished.
"No doubt, sire. But we have something important to—"
"In fact, dear boy, how would you like a royal concession, to freight tea up the coast to Xylar? You could build up a profitable trade—"
"Sire," said Jorian, "Iraz is about to be attacked. Had we not better break the impending siege ere discussing trade routes?"
"Iraz? Besieged?" said the king, holding an olive in front of his open mouth. "Nubalyaga save us, but what is this?"
Karadur explained the visions that the scryer had seen in his crystal ball.
"Oh, dear!" said the king, looking sadly at the piles of uneaten food. 'To have to break off such a splendid tea in the middle! The sufferings we kings endure for the welfare of our people! Ho, Ebeji! Summon Colonel Chuivir!"
When the glittering commander of the Royal Guard had clanked in and saluted, Ishbahar asked Karadur to repeat his tale. Then he asked Chuivir:
"However did those barbarians get past the frontier undetected?"
"You forget, sire, that General Tereyai has assembled the frontier army for maneuvers in the foothills of the Lograms, leaving the border covered by only a skeleton force. The Fedininis must have surprised one of the frontier fortresses and poured through ere the alarm could be spread."
"Where is Admiral Kyar?"
"I believe he has put to sea in his flagship, to exercise his rowers."
"Then, Colonel, you would seem to be the ranking officer in Iraz. Kindly get word to General Tereyai and Admiral Kyar as soon as you can. Meanwhile, you shall mobilize the Royal Guard and call up the companies of the factions."
"But, Your Majesty, how shall I—how do you wish me to carry out your commands? Shall I send a barge out to seek the admiral—"
Ishbahar slapped the table, making the cups and dishes dance. "Colonel Chuivir! Bother us not with those details; just carry out our orders! Now go and get to work!" When the crestfallen colonel had clanked out, the king shook his head. "Woe is us! We do believe we committed an error in appointing Chuivir to that command. He looked so magnificent on parade, but he has never fought a battle in his life."
"Then how did it happen, sire?" asked Jorian.
"He was a cousin of our third wife and well-liked in society. Since we relied upon the frontier force to keep the foe a decent distance from Iraz, we never expected that the actual defense of the city would devolve upon this amiable popinjay. Herekit!"
"Aye, sire?" said the secretary.
"Draft me a letter to Daunas, Grand Bastard of Othomae, inquiring whether he would hire out to us a few squadrons of his lobster-plated heavy cavalry, and on what terms. And command two of our swiftest couriers to stand by, booted and saddled. Draft another to Shaju, king of kings of Mulvan, urging him to invade the deserts of Fedirun from the east, since this land will be partly stripped of warriors. Suggest that he loot their sacred city of Ubar." The king turned back to his guests with a sigh. "Ah, well, we have done what we can. Now the fate of the city rests upon our gallant subjects."