He abandoned his original plans completely. Not for him now the subtle undermining, the fencing for a chance to seize control, which had been his favourite technique in the past. To use weapons forged by his enemy and fight on ground chosen by him — that was a certain path to exhaustion and defeat. He looked over the sword the magician had mended for him, his thoughts grim.
At all costs he must avoid defeat. To be beaten once would be an irrevocable sentence of doom.
Yet somehow he must still work within the pattern set by his opponent; to disturb the basic hypotheses too drastically would give a chance for the mental rapport to be broken, and he might find himself wandering in a fantasy world of his own creation, in which he was deluded into believing he had actually succeeded, whereas all the opposition he had overcome consisted in straw men…
He reached his decision. Brute force was the only chance he now had. Then let it be by force.
They came down from the hills, purposefully, in ordered ranks: no barbarian rabble, these bandits, but an army welded together by discipline into a single efficient machine. When they were still miles from Tiger City the glint of morning sun on their shields and helmets caught the attention of the city guards, and at once there was a great running to and fro on the ramparts.
Riding easily on his camel at the head of his army, Hao Sen grinned into his beard. His long pike with its cruel head was couched in its rest, alongside Starlight’s stately neck; his sword tapped lightly on his thigh.
Let them fuss and flurry! It would do them little good. What he had in store was enough to shake everyone in Tiger City up to and including the arrogant Chu Lao.
For more than an hour the bandits tramped down from the hills, silently except for the banging of gongs which marked the step. They made no attempt to come within bowshot of the city, but followed the circumference of a circle and surrounded it. Pack-animals laden with brushwood, wagons with dismantled siege-engines, and great stores of food added up to an obvious conclusion: they were determined to besiege the city before the Emperor could equip his army and provide adequate forage for his planned campaign against them.
Pleased, Hao Sen studied his work. He had chosen a comparatively minor post for himself, at the head of a detachment of camel cavalry, and the apparent chief of the bandits enjoyed all the luxuries a horde such as this could afford: a huge travelling yurt gorgeous with fine furs and pieces of stained Turkey carpet, on a four-wheeled wagon drawn by ten oxen. Around the wagon buzzed a continual swarm of officers, messengers, and slaves.
The army halted. On the ramparts of the city were visible the leaders of the defending force. After a while, these collected on the balcony over the main gate, opposite which the chief’s wagon had taken station.
A herald went down to begin the formal preliminaries by demanding the surrender of the city without resistance. The answer was dignified but negative. It was followed by a shower of arrows, and the herald rode hastily back to his lines.
Fair enough. Hao Sen watched the defenders duck as the fire was returned. Then there was an interval punctuated only by desultory shots while messengers brought in information about the defences.
It seemed that the main gate was the only vulnerable spot. Accordingly, the bowmen kept the heads of the defenders down while loads of brushwood and pots of pitch were dragged towards the heavy wooden doors closing it. Several men fell, but the job was well under way when it was abruptly abandoned. The attackers drew back, and the surprised defenders took stock of the situation. Cautiously they peered out from behind the black-and-yellow tiger’s head shields to see what had changed the minds of the bandits.
The answer was soon apparent. The sky was clouding over rapidly, and a few drops of rain were spitting down already. No fire fierce enough to harm the gate could survive such a downpour as was threatening.
Hao Sen stared narrow-eyed towards the balcony over the gate. Surely that was — yes, indeed ! There was the wizard Chu Lao, in a dark cloak that almost blended with the stone wall behind him, staring up towards the oncoming clouds. His magic was being called on to defend the city, and so far it looked as though he had the upper hand.
Hao Sen gave another wolfish grin, and the attackers leapt into action.
The furs and gaudy hangings on the “chiefs wagon” were snatched aside, revealing that they covered only a light bamboo frame with enough space for a man to enter, wait as if talking to the chief, and turn around to leave again. Apart from that, the whole wagon was an incendiary machine, full of tinder, pitch and jars of oil.
Now they whipped the only pair of oxen which had not been unharnessed. The startled beasts bellowed and leaned on the traces; the wagon rolled. After ten yards men dashed in with swords and slashed the oxen free, and the wagon continued by itself down the sloping road to the gate, its wooden wheels rumbling.
Hao Sen waited tensely. The defenders had seen what was happening, and were scrambling frantically to get off the balcony over the gate.
Another ten yards…
The fire-arrows went whizzing after the wagon, the second and third struck fair on oil-soaked rags at the back of the inflammable pile, and flames soared twenty feet, crowned with licking black thunderheads of smoke. The wagon slammed into the gate with a crunch of collapsing boards, and at once there was an inferno.
So far, so good. But had Chu Lao been taken unawares ?
Apparently not, for the rain came streaming down after only a few minutes” hesitation. As the smoke and flames died, it could be seen that a wide gash had opened in the gate. Another incendiary wagon was being readied at the head of the slope to follow the first when the gate was hurled open and the defenders charged out in force.
This was such an illogical act that Hao Sen was startled. Tiger City’s best strategy would clearly be to wear the attackers down — or so he had thought. For a moment he questioned his own planning; then the city guards, both mounted and on foot, were streaming forward with yells and much brandishing of swords, and there was no time to wonder about second-best courses of action.
The fighting spread by degrees all around the city. It was tough work. After a while Hao Sen spotted a large silken banber being borne forward from the gate, and dismissed his own command into the charge of a junior officer whom he suspected of being one of his schizoid secondaries. That banner was embroidered with a tiger, and must belong to the Emperor—
No! Wait!
Sudden insight, as blinding as lightning, pierced the grey sober mood of Hao Sen’s mind. The tiger banner couldn’t be the Emperor’s; the Imperial symbol was the dragon, the most powerful of all beasts. So the tiger would be reserved to Chu Lao, the wizard, because this was his city — Tiger City — and magic operated here according to strict rules of which he had seen an example when Chu Lao repaired his sword and told him that a weapon which had killed a dragon was worth keeping…
And the tiger was only the second most powerful beast!
Hao Sen urged Starlight forward, his mind racing, trying to beat his path to the spot where the tiger-gaudy banner was set up.
There was a violent melee all around it, so it was a while before he could reach a spot from where he could see if indeed Chu Lao had come out to supervise the battle. Three times he had to use his spike to spit a construct soldier, and the third time lost his grasp on it; shocked, because that implied he was much tireder than he had believed, he took a firm grip on himself as well as his sword.