Alchymist (51 page)

His
big eyes were moist. 'Tiaan, I'm so sorry. I've been the biggest fool of all
time.'

Yes,
you have!'

I — you
don't know what it's been like for me. Both my parents were killed when I was
five.'

Was
this an excuse? 'How did it happen?'

A
volcano threatened our vineyards; they were studying it when it erupted and
buried them in red-hot ash. They were burned alive.'

She
shuddered. 'What a horrible way to die.'

'I
lost everything that day,' he said bitterly. 'Vithis took me in, even though he
hated my parents and their values. He's of the old Aachim: the arrogant,
unloving kind. Whatever they liked, he hated; whatever they praised, he
derided. Whatever they believed, he denounced as lies, charlatanism and folly.'

'What
about your foretellings?'

'Especially
my foretellings! Each time my talent showed itself, he mocked me and told me
that I was unworthy, even unmanly. And that's the worst of it. Though he sneers
at my foretellings, he's superstitious and takes them to heart. He wants to
believe, but can't because he doesn't believe in me! It's tearing me apart,
Tiaan.' He bent his head to the table, though not in time to conceal the tears
on his long lashes.

'Is
that why you feel you have to please him?' she said.

The
question appeared to surprise him. 'He's my foster-father, Tiaan. He's my only
relative, and I'm all he has. We're bound together.'

'So
when he asked you to use your empathic talent to reach across the void, you agreed.'
She was guessing about that.

'There
was no hope for us on our own world. I was proud to be chosen for such an
important task.'

'How
did you come to contact me?' She stretched out her hand, hoping he had been
drawn to her, out of all the people in the world. 'Were you looking for someone
like me?'

'It
could have been anyone.' He was still staring at the tabletop.

She
snatched her hand back, hurt and insulted.

Not
noticing, he went on, 'We called out across the void, to anyone, on any world,
who had the ability to hear.'

'You
were not the only one to call?'

'Many
Aachim who had seeing talents, or empathic ones, were set to the task. I called
for four of our years, more than two of yours. Others for much longer.' He
looked up and met her eyes. But I was the only one who ever got an answer. I
saw you.'

That
pleased her, though it did not make up for the previous insult. 'How did you
call? Did you use some kind of crystal, like my — the amplimet?'

Another
way entirely.' His mouth set. 'I cannot tell you about that.'

And
yet you harassed me to tell you everything about my work, and talents, and our
use of crystals,' Tiaan said coldly. 'Not only did you use me, you demanded
everything of me and gave nothing back.'

'I
was trying to save my people.' He could not meet her eyes now. 'Would you not
have done the same? Besides, I didn't know you then.'

'You
did the same, after you protested your love for me!'

'We .
. , had to understand how your talent worked, and your amplimet, else how could
we teach you what you needed to know?'

'From
the result, you did not teach me very well.'

'Perhaps
you didn't tell us all you should have.'

Again
the blame was put on her. 'Why should I tell my enemies anything!' she snapped.
Tiaan felt achingly weary and she was getting nowhere. She had to take charge.
'You claimed you loved me, but that was a lie. They told you what to say to
me.'

'No!'
he cried. 'That's not true.'

Tiaan
quivered with fury. 'You can't lie to me, Minis. I've a perfect memory of our
conversations. When I was trapped in that sphere of ice, near the manufactory,
Tirior tried to get me to use geomancy. Even then I thought that she was
keeping something from me. She took you aside and told you what to say. You
protested, and Luxor looked shocked, but Tirior persisted. Finally you came
back and told me that you loved me. That was your first betrayal, Minis.

'Once
she saw that I cared for you, Tirior cynically used me. And, fool that I was, I
believed you. I would have done anything to help the one I loved. But my feelings
were incidental — once you gained my aid, I was as expendable as little Haani.
You would have sacrificed a thousand of me to get what you wanted.'

'You
are cruel, Tiaan.' Minis was grey about the lips. 'The child's death was an
accident that I bitterly regret, but I can't bring her back. I did love you,
and I still do.'

Tiaan
looked into his eyes. 'You'll have the chance to prove it, tomorrow.'

'I'll
prove it now. Do you still have the ring you made for me?'

The
ring she'd crafted lovingly with her own hands, woven from the gold and silver
old Joeyn had given her as he lay dying in the mine. 'The ring you rejected?
Yes, I have it.' It hung on a leather thong around her neck. She drew it out.

'Give
it to me.'

After
a hesitation, she untied the knot and passed the ring to him. His eyes met
hers. He held the ring between the fingers of both hands and took a deep
breath. 'Tiaan, I swear by this ring, the most sacred object to me, that I will
do all in my power to save you.'

'Tomorrow!'

'Tomorrow,'
he said.

Was
he trying to convince her, or himself? She held out her hand and he laid the
ring on her palm. She put it back on the thong and unwrapped the amplimet. He
sprang up in alarm but before he could stop her she had spoken.

'And
I swear, by this amplimet, that if you fail me again you'll rue it all your
remaining days.'

She
looked up. He'd gone stiff and staring and she knew she'd done the wrong thing,
but it could not be undone.

'Never,
never swear upon an amplimet,' he whispered.

'It's
too late. I've done it.'

'Yes,
you've done it now.'

Nish's
shattered army was now below the junction of the two streams, which here formed
a river some twelve spans across, too deep and fast flowing to cross. At the
neck it narrowed in a rocky cleft, rushing over a chain of rapids down the
steep part of the slope before forming a series of wide meanders below it,
where Gumby Marth broadened.

'How
deep is the river down below?' he asked the soldier at his side.

'We
forded it on the way in,' said Sergeant Lemuir. 'It was hard going — chest deep
for the most part. The danker operators weren't pleased.'

'I
can imagine.' Clankers could move even when half full of water, as long as the
operator's head was clear, but it must have been an alarming experience.

there
were troops on the other side of the river too, in scattered groups, and
doubtless enemy as well, although the bulk of lyrinx seemed to be on this side.

'What
are we going to do, Lieutenant?' said Lemuir.

A
professional soldier was asking his advice? But as far as they were concerned,
he was their lieutenant. A good five thousand troops were staring expectantly
at him, with the rest forming up behind them, escorted by seven or eight
hundred clankers and a scattering of men on horseback. He'd asked about Xabbier
but no one knew what had become of him or any other officer. It was past noon
and there was no sign of Troist, either. Privately, Nish no longer believed
that any relief would arrive, but he wasn't going to say that aloud.

What
was he to do? It was one thing to give orders to a few dozen soldiers, another
entirely to command an army. But, if they expected him to lead them, he'd
better get started.

'Lad,'
Nish said to a young signaller, 'call all the sergeants to me. Does anyone know
the land further down the valley?'

'I
do,' a tattered youth said.

'If
we can get past the enemy, what next?'

'It's
easy marching downriver to the sea, and then only a couple of days south along
the coast to Gnulp Landing.'

Nish
climbed the side slope to get a better view down the valley. Lemuir followed.

'What
do you think, Sergeant?'

Lemuir
gnawed at a bloodstained fingernail. 'Looks to be nine thousand holding the
neck. More than us.'

'And
a good few behind, sheltering under the cliffs and trees,' said Nish. 'They can
afford to wait till dusk, but we can't.'

'Never
heard of an attack on a superior force of lyrinx succeeding.' Lemuir tore off
an arc of fingernail, chewed pensively on it a moment, then spat it onto the
grey rock.

'Nor
I,' said Nish. 'We could wait. Troist might yet turn up.'

'We'd
have seen him coming up the valley by now.'

Nish
had the same fear. 'He'll come over the ridge further down, where he can cross
with the clankers.'

'Not
in time. The lyrinx aren't going to wait, surr. They're getting ready to
attack.'

Down
the slope, the gathered lyrinx were moving, and behind them others were coming
out of the trees. 'It's always better to attack,' said Nish. The decision had
come easily after all. 'And they're fighting uphill.'

It
wasn't much of an advantage, the enemy being so much bigger and stronger, but
it was all they had. Nish ran down to his assembled sergeants and explained his
plan, and the way he'd been successful in attacking the sluggish lyrinx.

'This
has got to succeed,' he concluded. 'If they can keep us up here until dark,
we're done for. General Troist can't take the neck against such a force. With
the field so weak, his clankers might not be able to move uphill. But ours can
still go down the slope. We must attack now, and know we'll win.

Anything
less is our doom. And we can win!'

'How?'
said a sergeant with a bushy beard and a pair of oozing lyrinx scalps hanging
from his shoulders, one green-crested, the other red. 'My men are as brave as
any, but this has been a day without hope.’

'I've
told you how I fight them,' said Nish. 'I'm not a trained soldier, and I've
killed six of the enemy today, with sword alone.'

'That's
not much help,' grunted the sergeant.

'They
don't like fighting in the heat and brightness of midday, so now's our best
chance.'

'It's
going to rain again.' The sergeant looked pointedly up at the sky.

'The
sun's out further down the valley. The cloud's breaking up and, running
downhill, our clankers can go through them even with the weak field . . .'

The
sergeant shook his head. 'To beat such fierce fighters we'd need an entirely
new battle plan, and all the luck in the world.’

'The
enemy have another weakness,' said Nish, improvising desperately. 'They've lost
twice as many as they'd have expected, so their morale must be low. Also,
they're not used to losing and tend to panic after a sudden reversal. Let's
form a flying wedge of clankers, cavalry, and our biggest, stoutest fighters,
and charge them.'

'Never
been done,' said the sergeant. 'Besides, it's too narrow for the clankers to
manoeuvre down there. It'd be suicide.

'So
is standing here doing nothing.'

'Look,
surr, we need a proper plan. I can't inspire my men if I don't believe in it
myself.’

Nish
had an idea. 'The lyrinx don't like to break off an attack when they're
winning. What if we were to attack with, say, a third of our army, then turn
and flee as if in panic. If they follow us out of the neck, we hit them hard
with the rest.’

'That's
not much of a plan,' the sergeant said, rubbing his stubble.

'I
haven't finished yet. In our counterattack, we drive five hundred clankers at
full speed right into the middle of their formation, then attack out in all
directions, driving some of them up against the cliffs and others into the
river. In the deep water, they'll panic and be swept down the rapids and it'll
alarm the rest. Once their front line turns around to defend themselves, the
remainder of our force attacks them from the other side. They won't have been
pressed like that before, and if we're strong enough, we might break through.'

The sergeant
considered Nish for a long moment. 'Your father was one for reckless plans,
though I never saw him in the front lines. He always took good care of his own
life.'

'My
father is dead,' said Nish, 'and eaten by the enemy. I'm not reckless,
Sergeant. In fact I'm terrified, but I'll be out in front, leading us — to
victory or to death.'

The
sergeant seemed to be weighing Nish's youth, stature, parentage. The other
sergeants and soldiers held their breath. The sergeant asked a question of
Lemuir, though Nish did not catch it. The man turned back to Nish and now, Nish
knew, he was weighing his reputation, and what he'd done last night and today.
The whole army knew of those deeds.