It was urgent that the crutches be prepared forthwith. It was also urgent that something drastic be done about the command of the militia, before the factions began a civil war.
At the palace, Jorian was told that King Ishbahar was taking his nap after lunch and could not be disturbed. Jorian chewed his mustache in frustration. He considered forcing an entrance to the king's private chambers on grounds of emergency, waiting until the king awoke, or going directly to Chuivir without clearing his intentions with the king first. The dangers of the last course seemed to him the least.
He found the handsome colonel in his chamber in the topmost level of the huge, cylindrical keep built against the wall on the eastern side of the city. Thence Chuivir could watch the entire length of the East Wall, including the East Gate. Chuivir, wearing gilded lizard mail even more gorgeous than Jorian's, was checking payrolls.
Jorian saluted by bringing his fist to his chest. "Colonel," he said, "it is the king's pleasure that his forces prepare for an imminent assault on the walls by scaling ladders. In particular, he desires that hundreds of crutches be prepared and placed on the walls to overthrow these ladders."
Chuivir frowned. "Where got he any such idea, Captain Jorian? Any fool can see that they are readying a prolonged attack on the walls themselves, by catapults and ram tortoises, in order to make a breach before mounting his assault."
Jorian told of the server's discovery of the ladder work going on behind the fence to the northeast. Colonel Chuivir picked up his own spyglass and leaned out the window on that side of the tower. After a while, he said:
"Nay, your seer must have been mistaken. Even if they be preparing ladders, it were incredible that they should essay to use them so early upon our walls."
"His Majesty," said Jorian, "thinks they are fain to make a sudden assault in hope of carrying the city ere General Tereyai arrive with his army."
Chuivir stubbornly stuck to his point. "My good Captain, it says right here in Zayuit's Military Manual"—he waved a copy—"that the chances of carrying a wall over forty feet high with ladders alone were negligible. And our walls measure forty-five feet."
"A city this size should have at least sixty-foot walls," said Jorian.
"Perhaps; but that is beside the point."
"Well, are you going to set men to making crutches?"
"No. I need all the manpower I can get for practise at conventional drill, for arms making, and for strengthening the masonry."
"But, sir, His Majesty was quite positive—"
The colonel gave Jorian a sharp look. "Meseems that, to listen to you, His Majesty has been taking an entirely unwonted interest in the details of the defense—something he has never done hitherto. Did he give you such a message just now, from his own mouth?"
"Certes. You do not think I would give you orders on my own responsibility, do you?"
"On the contrary, that is just what I think. Know, good my sir, that I command the defense and none other—let alone foreign interlopers. If you would convince me that His Majesty has in sooth issued this silly command, you must bring me a written order in his own hand, or else persuade him to issue his dicta to me in person."
"Would you rather let the enemy in than yield on a bit of protocol?" said Jorian angrily. "If I must needs run back and forth all day bearing bits of paper—"
"Get out of here!" shouted Chuivir. "Any royal commands hereafter shall be in writing, or I will ignore them. Now off with you and stop pestering me, or I will have you arrested!"
"We shall see," growled Jorian. He left the tower fuming.
That evening over supper, he told Karadur of the day's events.
"When I got back to the palace," he said, "I found the King just waking up. I told him about the quarreling between the factions and about my troubles with Chuivir. I said I feared my supervision would come to nought unless I had direct and acknowledged command of the whole defense, with none to gainsay me. Even then, 'twould be a chancy thing.
"I told Ishbahar I wanted nothing less than commanding the defense of Iraz, which was not my city; but I was caught therein and stood to fall therewith. Hence, to save my own hide, I needs must do what I could to save it."
"Did he believe your—ah—protestations of virtue?"
"I know not, albeit they expressed my true sentiments. He flat refused, howsomever, to oust Chuivir and the stasiarchs and appoint me in their room, saying 'twere politically impossible.
"At length he summoned the three and me to tea this afternoon. Another gorge, naturally. If His Majesty keep on stuffing me like a sausage skin, I shall have to go on a fast; I've already gained ten pounds in Iraz.
"Well, at table, Amazluek, with a bandage round his head, glared daggers at Vegh and me. But I will say old Fatty did his best. He homilized us on the need for cooperation whilst the siege lasted. An we failed to work together, he reminded us, we should be tied to posts, tarred, and kindled to illumine the Fedirunis' victory feast. The desert dwellers have quaint notions of entreating their captives. At the end, he was blubbering great tears of self-pity and had even my three recalcitrant commanders looking solemn and wiping their eyes."
"Did he confirm your tale of having obtained the order about the crutches from him?"
"Aye; luckily, I had thought to prime him on this little white lie. So we all parted with expressions, if not of good will, at least of promises to work for the common goal. But nought has really been changed, and the morrow will doubtless see us at one another's throats again."
"How about those crutches?"
"Seeing a chance to score off his rival, Amazluek said he'd be responsible for them. His faction, he said, had many competent woodworkers, and he would set them to sawing and nailing night and day. Then Vegh said his Pants could make two crutches for every one turned out by the Kilts. The king said to go to it."
Karadur: "My son, I promised Nedef to look in at his sanctum this even. He is attempting to spy on a meeting of the hostile commanders, to learn what he can of their plans. Wilt—ah—accompany me? With all in confusion and arms handed out broadcast, the streets are none too safe o' nights."
"Surely, old man. Have you a lanthorn?"
Nedef murmured: "Nay, I see no gathering around the tent of the Fediruni chieftain… That leaves the Algarthians…"
For some minutes, the scryer sat silently with an intense expression, as he strove to guide the vision in the crystal seaward.
"It is easier this even," he said. "Belike all the wizards are at meat. Ah, here is the pirates' flagship, with longboats clustering about her. The council of war must be aboard…" Then more silence. Nedef gasped: "Aid me, Doctor Karadur! The wizards have cast a protective spell about the admiral's cabin, so I cannot enter it."
Karadur mumbled and made passes. At last Nedef exclaimed: "Ah, now I am in! But it takes all my strength to remain…"
"What see you?" asked Jorian.
"In sooth, it is a veritable council of war. I see Mazsan the factionist, and the pirate admiral—I think his name is Hrundikar, a great huge wight with a long red beard. I also see the leaders of the Free Company and of the nomads, whose names I know not."
"What do they?"
"They talk, with much gesticulation and pauses for the interpreters… Mazsan says something about making an attack from all four sides at once, to stretch the defense thin…"
Silence, then: "They argue the question of timing their attack. The Fediruni points heavenward; he—I cannot read his lips, for he speaks his native tongue. Ah, the interpreter asks how they can time their attacks with the sun hidden by clouds…
"Now Mazsan speaks. He says something about the Tower of Kumashar… He holds a spyglass to his eye. The Fediruni asks a question,