Forty-five

'Fiz Gorgo!' cried Nish. 'Wasn't that the fortress of the great mancer Yggur, back in the time of the Tale of the Mirror?'

'It was,' said Flydd, and Irisis could hear him cracking his knuckles anxiously.

'Who controls it now?'

'We're about to find out. Climb up on top of the cabin, Nish, and tear open that patch on the airbag.'

'What?' he cried.

'Just do it, and be quick; Flydd hissed, 'or the enemy will breakfast on your kidneys.'

Irisis wondered if the scrutator had gone mad. So, evidently, did Nish, but he did what he was told, then sprang down again. Floater gas sighed from the gash and slowly the balloon sagged until, in a few minutes, the structure of its wire ribs could be seen. Gravel crunched under the keel as the cabin tilted onto its side.

Nish began to climb over the rail. 'Stay where you are,' Flydd said quietly.

They waited. All was silent. No bird sang, no cricket chirped. Not a single leaf rustled.

Irisis's nape prickled. 'Someone's watching us,' she said under her breath, without knowing how she knew it.

'Be quiet.'

Her eyes were drawn up the tower, all the way to the horns on each extremity. No, not there. She followed the rough stone down to a point a little more than halfway from the ground. A balcony projected straight out, a shaped slab of stone without roof or rail. Someone stood there, or something, but she could not see what it was.

A lamp or glowing globe on the wall came on, outlining the figure from behind. It was very tall, and man-shaped, but concealed by a greatcoat that swept to the floor. The figure stepped to the edge.

'Begone, whoever you are, back to where you came from. Visitors are not welcome here.' It was human, a man with a mellow, carrying voice that bore more than an underlying hint of steel. This man was master and no argument, Irisis sensed, would sway him.

'I am Xervish Flydd, surr,' the scrutator called up, respectfully. 'Scrutator for Einunar —’

'Then you've a long journey home, Scrutator Flydd. Begin it at once. You are not welcome in Fiz Gorgo.'

'I would, surr, but as you can see, our air-floater floats no more and cannot be repaired today. I beg your indulgence until the morning.'

The man shifted his weight. 'I am bereft of indulgence and every other form of human weakness,' he said coldly. 'Take your abominable machine and begone!'

'It can't be moved, surr, within twenty-four hours. We'll go if we must, but the machine must stay where it lies. If you would care to inspect it. . .'

The figure whirled, the light went out and a door slammed.

'Don't say a word, unless he speaks directly to you,' Flydd said over his shoulder. 'If he does, confine your answers to yes or no. Venture no explanations.'

Before them, up a few steps from the base of the tower, stood a set of doors so vast that the cabin of the air-floater could have fitted between. The doors opened silently and a blinding light shone through them, revealing that the yard was paved in black stone. There was no living thing in sight. Not a single weed grew inside the walls.

The man appeared, greatcoat flapping. Illuminated from behind, he looked twice the size of any normal man. He strode through the door and came down the broad steps to the air-floater.

'Get out!'

They scrambled over the side, to congregate at the base of the steps. As he turned to inspect the machine, the light fell full on him. He was no giant, but tall and well proportioned -broad in the chest, slim hipped and with long, muscular legs. He had a long, weathered face, frost-grey eyes and dark hair, worn long, that was streaked with silver at the temples. He wore a grey shirt, grey trousers and pale grey boots. His greatcoat was as black as the flagstones.

Climbing onto the sloping deck, he inspected the structure, the controller, the torn airbag and, last of all, the floater-gas generator. As he climbed down, Irisis noted that he moved stiffly, as if an old injury troubled him.

'Very well,' he said. 'You may stay until the morning. At first light you will repair your contraption and remove yourselves.' He went up the steps, turning before he went through the entrance. 'Bring that device to me.' He pointed to the floater-gas generator.

'At once,' said Flydd, motioning to Irisis and Flangers. 'Would you like to see the controller too?'

'I am familiar with its type,' said the man, and disappeared through the doorway.

They gathered their gear. 'You'd better bring the contents of the larder,' said Flydd. 'He doesn't seem a very hospitable fellow.'

Muss collected the food, including the great haunch of venison. Nish and Flangers carried the floater-gas generator, and little Inouye came behind with her controller. It was her lover, her friend, her family, and the bond with it was the only thing that kept her going.

Irisis picked up her bag and followed. Fiz Gorgo was a grim place, strongly built but undecorated. There were no tapestries on the walls, no rugs in the hall. What furniture it had was of the plainest construction. The hall was high and wide, the rooms large, square and barren of ornament save for time-worn patterns etched into the stone. And it was quite as cold as the manufactory where she had spent her working life.

Halfway down the long hall, the man stood by an open door. 'You may stay here. There is a stove. Water may be drawn from the small cistern out by your infernal contraption. Good evening!' He nodded formally.

They filed past, Irisis last, which gave her the chance to gain a better look at the fellow. He appeared to be in hale middle age.

He caught her gaze and turned, inspecting her from head to toe. Irisis was a tall woman but he was almost a head taller. She looked him boldly in the eye as she went past and knew that his gaze lingered. There was a strange, almost wistful look in his eye. Then he was gone.

Flydd chuckled. 'You'll do no good with that one.'

'I have no intention of doing good, as you so charmingly put it.' she said frostily.

'Who is he?' said Muss, who had been silent for a long time.

'Oh, come now,' said Flydd. 'You're telling me that you, my best spy, don't know?'

Muss looked vexed. 'I've not done any work across the sea.'

'Surely you know your Histories, man?'

'But. . .'

Nish spoke from behind. 'He, surely, is Lord Yggur, a great mancer who comes into several tales, including the Tale of the Mirror. I thought he was dead long ago.'

'So did everyone,' said Flydd. 'He disappeared at the end of that tale, some two hundred years ago, and has not been seen since. Everyone thought he was dead. Well, almost everyone.'

'Why did he come back to this miserable place?' said Irisis. 'He might have dwelt anywhere on Santhenar.'

'I dare say he likes it here,' Flydd remarked. 'But who knows where he has been? For all we know he could have travelled seven times around the known world, and the unknown. In his day, he had the best —’

'A day long past,' said Nish. 'As I recall it, his courage failed him in the Tale of the Mirror.'

'I'd watch my tongue if I were you,' Flydd said coldly. 'He may be listening to our every word. Besides, he was a great man once, and deserves your respect.'

Nish glanced around uncomfortably.

Irisis packed kindling into the stove, shrugging Fiz Gorgo and Lord Yggur away. 'I've been looking forward to this dinner for a long time.'

She had been thinking and dreaming about food for weeks. Among her many skills Irisis was a brilliant cook, and in times past she'd cooked for herself, and friends, when she could no longer bear the muck provided by the manufactory. Since leaving there last spring she'd had few meals worth thinking about, and most of those had been with Flydd in Gospett. In the past month the food had been horrible, and there had been little enough of it. In Jibstorn she had spent a fortune buying the best of everything. Tonight was going to be a meal to remember.

'How much longer are you planning to torment us?' said Nish, several hours later. The smells arising from the stove were glorious. Even Flangers, deeply withdrawn since she'd forced him to remit his life to her, had a gleam in his eye.

Irisis smiled inwardly. Food always served, if there'd been lack of it for long enough. 'Not long now. Why don't you set up the trestle?'

By the time that was done, dinner was ready. She gave one of her sauces a gentle stir. A shadow drifted down the hall, hesitated for a second outside the door, then went on. A minute later it came past again, glanced across to the stove and continued. Irisis pretended not to notice.

She served up the platters, and no one seemed to notice that an extra one contained some of the choicest portions. While everyone was sitting down, she took up the platter and slipped out the door. Irisis could not have said why, only that she was curious about the master of Fiz Gorgo.

It did not take long to find him, for Yggur sat at a big table in a room at the far end of the hall. He was reading and did not look up as she approached. The floater-gas generator sat on the table beside him, in pieces. There was a faint smell of liquorice in the air, and several slices of peeled root on a dish.

Irisis stood in front of the table, feeling more than a little foolish.

'What do you want?' he growled, still with his head in the book.

'I thought you might be hungry, Lord Yggur.'

At the sound of her voice his head snapped up and the book fell shut. 'Ah, the artisan,' he said. 'I am no lord, and outside this place I don't go by the name Yggur. The past is dead and I prefer it to stay that way.'

'You called me artisan. How do you know me, surr?'

'"He may be listening to our every word,"' he quoted. 'I know everything that goes on in my own realm. I presume your scrutator has sent you to cozen me?'

Irisis blushed, which she found embarrassing. 'Since you've overheard everything we said, surr, you would know I'm going against his direct orders. It's just that, well, you were so kind as to provide us with a roof for the night, and I wished to repay you in what small way I could.'

His lips twitched and Irisis felt as though he could read her mind, the bad as well as the good. In truth, she had no idea why she had done it, though it was not attraction to Yggur. She'd chosen her man and had no interest in any other.

'Very well. Put it on the table. Your own dinner will be getting cold.'

She bowed and turned to the door, feeling his eyes boring into her back and resisting the urge to run away. A disturbing man. And then, sitting down at the trestle with the others, she ate the entire glorious meal without tasting a thing.

They slept the sleep of the truly exhausted that night, and not even Flydd noticed when Yggur slipped into their chamber in the pre-dawn hours. Conjuring ghost light with his fingers, he inspected each in turn. His gaze lingered longest on three: the scrutator, Nish and Irisis. As he turned to go, Yggur almost stumbled over the little pilot, who lay by herself in her sleeping pouch, tossing and groaning. Bending down, he placed the glowing light to her temples, left and right. She rolled over onto her side and slept soundly, and Yggur withdrew.

They went to the machine at dawn and began to repair the tear in the airbag. 'Work slowly,' said Flydd. 'We don't want to leave today.'

Though they dawdled as much as they reasonably could, the airbag was repaired before midday. Inouye installed her controller and Flydd sent Nish to find Yggur and recover the floater-gas generator.

Nish went to the room at the end of the corridor where Yggur sat at the table, writing. The reassembled generator was at his right hand.

'Take it,' said Yggur, his nib looping across the page.

Nish reached out, rather gingerly, and lifted the heavy generator in both hands.

As he turned to go Yggur said, 'You are Cryl-Nish Hlar, weapons artificer, son of Jal-Nish Hlar. Your life is now at a crossroads. Women have been your weakness and you believe that lack of courage is mine.'

Nish flushed. 'I'm sorry, surr. Last night I was tired and hungry and afraid. Sometimes I speak without thinking.'

'Honest, at least,' Yggur said grudgingly. 'Put the generator down for a moment. Cryl-Nish, why have you come here?'

Nish sat it on the table and rubbed his aching arms. 'Scrutator Flydd brought us, surr. I don't know his reasons, though he's looking for help and can't find it anywhere else.'

'Not surprising, since he's a renegade who has been cast out and condemned.'

'The scrutators are fools, surr, who cannot —’

The black brows knitted. 'Who are you to judge the mighty, lowly artificer that you are?' Yggur thundered.

Once Nish would have slunk away, but he stood fast. 'I have eyes to see, surr. And, since you've been listening to our talk, you'll know that I've seen many great deeds done, and terrible ones too, on both sides of the world. My late father —’

'Do you tell me that Jal-Nish Hlar is dead?'

'He was killed at the great battle near Gnulp Landing, a few weeks ago. Killed and eaten by the lyrinx.'

'I'm out of touch, living here,' said Yggur. News travels slowly to Meldorin, if at all.'

'I'm a dutiful son, surr. I mourn my father, though he was an evil man who was prepared to do anything to gain a position as scrutator on the Council, including sentencing his youngest son to a miserable death as a slave.'

Yggur sat up at that. 'Oh?'

Nish briefly related that tale.

'A severe punishment for a father to inflict on a son, even for so great a blunder.' Yggur weighed Nish up. 'And yet, such qualities as your father had may be required to win this interminable war.'

'With respect, surr, I disagree. My father was corrupt, I'm sorry to say, and many on the Council, including Ghorr, are just as depraved. They could have won the war long ago, but it gave them the excuse to maintain their own power.’

'Tell me more, Artificer.'

Perhaps Yggur was more interested in the outside world than he pretended. He questioned Nish for the best part of an hour, more incisively than any interrogation by Flydd, Vithis or even his own father. All the more surprising that Yggur hid himself away from the world.

Finally Flydd came looking for Nish. Yggur dismissed him and Flydd accompanied him back to the machine; they carried the floater-gas generator between them. Nish felt quite drained.

'You seemed to be having a merry chat,' said Flydd, after an uncomfortable pause. 'I thought I told you to say as little as possible.'

'If you can stay quiet when he questions you, you're a better man than I am,' Nish snapped. He added hastily, 'Which of course you are.'

'Indeed I am,' chuckled Flydd, and left it at that.

The generator was fitted and its barrel filled with water to which a little salt had been added. Flydd cocked a glance at the sky. 'We'll break for lunch. I don't want to finish it too early.'

'Not much chance of that,' said Irisis. 'It'll take a good ten hours to fill the airbag from empty.'

'Even so.'

They were sitting around, taking a leisurely meal in the watery sun, when Yggur strode down the steps. 'Better get moving' he said. 'You're to be out of here by nightfall.'

'I don't see how we can be,' said Flydd. 'It'll take —’

'That's your lookout.' Yggur strode off, the wings of his coat flying out behind him. 'And once you're gone, you won't mention me by name.'

'What are we going to do?' said Irisis after he had gone.

'I have no idea.'

As soon as Inouye drew power into the floater-gas generator, it let out a shrieking whistle and began to hiss loudly.

'I don't like the way that sounds,' said Irisis but, on checking, found it to be working perfectly. She frowned at the mechanism. 'In fact —’

'What?' Flydd called.

'It seems to be working better than before. He must have done something to it.'

'Damn him!' Flydd paced furiously across the yard.

The bag was full an hour before dark. 'Get the blasted gear aboard,' Flydd said. It was not only that Fiz Gorgo had been his last hope. Even more vexing, Yggur had contrived to speak alone with Nish, Irisis, Muss, Fyn-Mah, Flangers and even little Inouye, but had refused to talk to Flydd. He felt neglected and insulted.

'I've got to do something,' he said. 'This is our last chance.'

'What if. . .?' Irisis began. 'No, that wouldn't work.'

'What?' he snapped.

'What if I were to speak to him again?' she said softly.

'What could you possibly say? He's more than a thousand years old. He's seen everything and heard everything.'

'If he's spent the last two hundred years here by himself . . , there may be things he hasn't seen, for a quite a while.'

'What do you mean?'

'You know,' she said.

'Oh, very well. There's nothing I wouldn't do to get him on my side, so if you can seduce him —’

'I didn't mean that', she said coldly. 'What do you take me for?'

Flydd looked embarrassed. 'Someone who's not quite as corrupt as a scrutator, obviously.'

'I'll take that as an apology, but don't expect to be warming my bed again.'

'I had a feeling it was over' he said. 'I suppose it's Nish, is it?'

'I have no idea what you're talking about,' she dissembled.

'I'm sure! I'll go with you' said Flydd. 'I've an idea. And if we ever get out of here, you'll repeat nothing of what you hear inside.'

'I understand.' She hadn't the faintest idea what he was talking about.

Yggur was not in his room but, as they crisscrossed the halls of the ground floor, Irisis heard the mancer's bootsteps on the stair of the front tower.

Yggur thrust his head over the edge. 'No need to say goodbye, or to thank me. Just go.'

'I must talk to you first' said Flydd. 'The scrutators are losing the war and I —’

'There's always a war being lost somewhere' Yggur said indifferently.

'You must help us!' cried Flydd. 'The very fate of humanity-'

'I don't care for your war, Scrutator Flydd, nor for you. You come to my door a beggar, sabotage your flying machine so I can't get rid of you, then presume to tell me that I have to help you. I've nothing more to say to you.'

'But surely, for the war . . .'

'I live in harmony with my neighbours, including lyrinx. Go and make peace with yours.'

'The enemy don't want peace.'

'Small wonder, the way your Council has treated them these past hundred and fifty years. I may not know what's going on at the present, but I'm well informed about the origins of this war and I want no part of it. Good day.' Yggur turned and went back up.

Flydd cursed under his breath. He looked old, meagre and bitter, and, Irisis thought, did not like the comparison with a hale, confident Yggur.

'Let me try,' Irisis muttered. 'Go down, Xervish.'

Before he could say anything she began to run up the stairs. 'Yggur, surr! If you please?'

Yggur climbed to the next landing, sighed audibly and turned to wait for her.

Irisis knew she was an enchanting sight, with her generous bosom bouncing, her yellow hair streaming out behind her and her cheeks flushed prettily. She had no idea what she was going to say, but he would listen. Only a dead man could have turned her away.

'Yes?' he said coolly. Maybe he was made of stone after all. After living more than a thousand years, perhaps such passions were quite extinct in him.

She stopped at the far edge of the landing, three paces from him. Her chest was still heaving. Irisis caught her breath. 'Xervish Flydd is a good man, surr. An honest man.'

'He's a scrutator and the very name means stinking corruption. I should have burned him out of the sky.'

'The scrutators cast him out,' she said desperately. 'They condemned him to slavery.'

'He must have been too rotten even for them.'

'He's always treated me —’

'He's your lover, isn't he? Stinking old hypocrite.'

'Not for months,' she said softly. And Flydd isn't old; barely sixty.'

'And you're what? Twenty? Twenty-one? He's a filthy old pervert.'

Irisis might have mentioned Yggur's own liaison with a much younger Maigraith, but that would not have been helpful. She changed tack. 'I've read the Histories, surr.'

Everyone has read the Histories. The world is obsessed with them, much to its detriment.'

I know the Tale of the Mirror, surr. The true tale; my uncle had a private copy hidden away.' Oh?'

And I know your story. How you were betrayed by the Council of Santhenar a thousand years ago.' She reached up and put a hand on his arm. He looked down sharply but did not shake it off. 'In times long past, you were tormented by Rulke the Charon and driven into madness. You wandered the world for hundreds of years, neither ageing nor using your powers, before making the ancient Aachim fortress of Fiz Gorgo your own, and plotting your revenge. You found Maigraith, the love of your thousand-year life. And I know you're a noble man, surr. You destroyed Rulke's deadly construct, which threatened the Three Worlds, even though in doing so it left Maigraith trapped in Aachan. You did that because you loved our world more than anything.'

'I did it because it was the only way to save her,' he said, staring into nothingness.

She went on as if he had never spoken. And then, after she miraculously returned, you abandoned all claim on her and on your empire, rather than plunge the world into war.'

'Not so,' he murmured, still trapped in the past. 'She would not have me. She'd had the best, Rulke himself, and after him I came a distant second. I abandoned my empire because without her it meant nothing. I came home to Fiz Gorgo to die, but I endure, scarcely changed, while she is but a memory. A dream.' 'Then surely it's time to move on.'

He scanned her from her feet to her face. 'You're a beautiful woman, Irisis, but you don't move me. Make your point, whatever it is, then go.'

She lowered her voice, so Flydd would not hear. 'Did you see how scarred and battered Flydd is, how the very flesh was gouged from his broken bones? The scrutators did that to him thirty years ago, because he dared inquire too deeply into the doings of their master.'

That caught his attention. 'What master?' he said sharply. She left that question hanging and continued. 'And recently they cast him out and condemned him to a cruel death as a slave on the clanker-hauling teams.' 'Which I'm sure he deserved.'

'They ordered him to destroy the lyrinx node-drainer at Snizort, gave him a flawed device to do the job, then blamed him for its failure. It destroyed the node and all its fields with it, and a good part of Snizort.'

'What?' he cried. 'I've heard none of this.' 'The clankers and constructs stalled on the battlefield and the lyrinx overran them. Flydd was blamed for the disaster, though he did everything possible to avoid the battle.'

'A node was destroyed?' Yggur said incredulously, pushing past her down the steps and stalking towards the scrutator. 'Is this true, Flydd?'

'It made the most colossal explosion you can imagine,' said Flydd, his eyes alight. 'We were in an air-floater, five hundred spans above the ground, and the blast went up past us as high as a small thunderhead.'

Yggur stared down at him. 'And afterwards? Did anyone go to the node and look in, to see what had come of it?'

'I did, and Nish, and Ullii the seeker, who is no longer with us.'

'What did you see?' cried Yggur.

'Two metal tears, each larger than a grapefruit, and as shiny as quicksilver. I could not get to them —’

Yggur let out a sigh. 'So it can happen! What became of the tears?'

'Scrutator Jal-Nish Hlar took them, though we did not discover it was him for many weeks. He left the bodies of his guards in the pit, so that no one would ever know. He had the tears with him before the battle of Gumby Marth, near Gnulp Landing, for he forced Nish to touch them, and Nish was changed by it. It gave him a special sight afterwards, for half a day, though Nish has never had a talent for the Art.'

'Is that so?' said Yggur. Go on.'

'Jal-Nish used the tears to enhance his alchymical Art, but a mancer-lyrinx broke the spell. Jal-Nish was slain and eaten, and the tears disappeared. It is believed that the lyrinx took them.'

'I see,' said Yggur. 'Tell me, what were your doings thirty years ago, scrutator, that the Council did such mischief to you?'

'Surely your spies have told you?'

'I no longer have spies. The only news I hear from across the water comes from traders and wandering vagabonds as disreputable as yourselves, and it's usually months old.'

'I pried into forbidden secrets,' said Flydd. 'That's why they punished me.'

'For uncovering the scrutators' master?'

'Where did you hear that?' cried Flydd. 'It puts the lie to —’

'I told him, surr,' said Irisis.

'That secret was not yours to reveal,' Flydd said furiously.

'Then you shouldn't have told me about it in your cups,' she retorted.

'Well, Flydd?' said Yggur.

Flydd shook his head. 'I cannot speak of the secrets of the scrutators, surr, even to you. I am sworn and do not lightly break my oath.'

'I don't break sworn word for any reason,' Yggur said scornfully. 'I won't trouble your conscience further, for I can see it a fragile thing it is. Come down, Artisan. Have you given your sworn word to say nothing? Your sacred oath?'

'I said I wouldn't tell,' she said weakly.

'Oath or no oath?'

'No oath.'

'Then, since you boast about how well you know the Tale of the Mirror, and my part in it, you know that you will tell me.

Not even your scrutator can resist me, though I won't force him to break his oath to his corrupt masters.'

Flydd stood staring at her, gnarled hands by his sides. Just give the word, she thought, and I'll resist him with all the strength in my body. But Flydd said nothing. Perhaps he wanted her to reveal what he could not.

'The only thing I know,' said Irisis, 'and that was mentioned several times in .., extremis . . '.

'An excess of wine!' said Yggur. 'What price your oath now, Scrutator? Two cups? Three?'

'. . , it was a reference to the Numinator,' Irisis finished.

'The Numinator?' Yggur said, puzzled.

'The person who gives the scrutators their orders, surr. The one for whom they have shaped our world.'

'Ahh!' He let his breath out. 'I've often wondered how such a collection of fools and incompetents came to gain such power; and how they maintained it for so long. Who is this Numinator?'

'That's all I know, surr,' said Irisis.

'It's enough. You've bought your master a refuge.'

'No man is my master,' said Irisis.

'Whatever you say. Well, Flydd, you may stay for a few days. We'll speak more about these matters tonight. Are you happy, now that you've gained what you wanted?'

'Time will tell if it was worth the price,' said Flydd.