The Fallable Fiend (6 page)
Read The Fallable Fiend Online
Authors: L. Sprague deCamp
League after league I sped, seeing nought but an occasional seabird and once a spouting whale. Then a cluster of black specks drew my regard. Soon they became a fleet. Long, sharp-ended ships they were, each with a single square sail bellying before a fair wind.
I dropped down for a closer look. The decks were thronged with figures, quite different from Novarians. Most were utterly naked, while a few had fluttering cloaks loosely thrown about them. They were nigh unto black of skin, with mops of curly hair and large curly beards. Hair and beards varied from black to rusty brown. Black eyes looked out from cavernous eye sockets under beetling brow, and their noses were wide and flat, with no bridge.
Madam Roska became more and more excited as I described what I saw. Then came an interruption. From the poop of the ship on which I was scrying came a scrawny old Paaluan, with white hair and beard. He held what looked like a human leg bone, and his eyes searched all about him. At last he seemed to stare at me from the depths of the gem. He shouted inaudibly and pointed his bone at me. The vision blurred and broke into dancing motes of light.
When I reported this to Roska, she paced the floor of the oratory, chewing her nails. “The Paaluans,” she said, “are plainly bent upon bale. The Syndics must be warned.”
“What do the Paaluans desire, madam?”
“To fill their larders, that’s what.”
“Mean you they are cannibals?”
“Exactly.”
“Tell me, my lady, what sort of folk are they? I understood that, on this plane, folk who went naked and ate other human beings were deemed primitive savages. Yet the Paaluans’ ships seemed well built and appointed—albeit I am no expert on such things.”
“They’re no savages; in fact, they have a high civilization, but vastly different from ours. Many of their customs, such as public nudity and anthropophagy, we deem barbarous. Now, what’s to do? If I go to the Syndics, they’ll say I do but try to alarm them in hope of getting my seat on their board. Could you bear the news?”
“Why, madam, if brought into their presence, I could tell them what I have seen. But I have no authority to demand the loan of their ears.”
“I see, I see. We shall both have to do it. Summon my tiring woman.”
Soon after, Madam Roska, clad for the street, called for her litter. But then a lady friend of hers sounded the door knocker. When this woman entered, there were cries of “Darling!” and “Precious!” The next I knew, the urgent mission to the Syndics was forgotten while the two women sat and gossiped. By the time the visitor left, the reflected sunlight was dimming and dinnertime approached.
“ ’Tis too late to do aught today,” said Roska wearily. “The morrow will suffice.”
“But, madam!” I said. “If these villainous wights from across the sea be but a few days’ sail from our coast, should not this news take precedence over all else? As is said on my plane, one nail in the cracked board eftsoons may save ten anon.”
“Speak to me of it no more, Zdim. ’Tis a misfortune that Madam Mailakis chanced in at just that time, but I
could
not entreat her rudely.”
“But—”
“Now, now, Zdim darling! The subject is highly distasteful, and I would forget the whole sorry business in the pages of a book. Fetch from the library the copy of Falmas’
Love Eternal.”
“Madam Roska!” I said. “I endeavor to give satisfaction; but—if I may speak freely—I really think you should convene your Board of Syndics forthwith. Else we may all perish, including your noble self. I should be remiss in my duties, did I not point this out to you.”
“Dear Zdim! You are most thoughtful of my welfare. Awad! List the members of the Board and, after dinner, visit them. Tell them that tomorrow, at the third hour, I shall wait upon them at the Guildhall with urgent news.”
###
At the meeting, Jimmon, the Chief Syndic, said: “Are you that demon from the Twelfth Plane that was indentured to Doctor Maldivius?”
“Aye, sir.”
“What’s your name? Stam or something?”
“Zdim Akh’s son, sir.”
“Ah, yes. Extraordinarily ugly names, you Twelfth Planers have. Well, Roska, what’s this all about, eh?”
“Gentlemen,” she said, “you will recall that, last month, Doctor Maldivius sought to squeeze money from the Syndicate in return for news of a peril menacing Ir.”
“I remember well enough,” said a Syndic. “I still think it was a bluff; that he had no such news.”
“You know what a slippery character Maldivius was,” said another. “No wonder they made it too hot for him to stay in the city.”
“Aside from all that,” said Roska, “I’ve learnt what the menace is, and Maldivius exaggerated not.”
“Oh?” said several. They were a sleepy, bored-looking lot, most of advanced years and many fat. Now they sat up and showed signs of interest.
“Aye,” continued Roska. “A powerful scry stone has lately come into my hands, and my servant has seen the menace approaching. Tell them, Zdim.”
I described my vision. Some looked impressed; others scoffed: “Oh, come now, you don’t expect us to take the word of an inhuman monster?”
The argument raged for an hour. At last Roska said: “Has any of Your Excellencies a talent for scrying?”
“Not I!” said Jimmon. “I wouldn’t touch the stuff. Too much like witchcraft.”
Others echoed the sentiment until an old Syndic, clept Kormous, said he had dabbled in the occult arts in his youth.
“Then you shall come to my house instanter,” quoth Roska, “whilst Master Kormous undertakes the trance and tells you what
he
sees. Belike you’ll credit him.”
###
An hour later, Kormous sat in the chair before the Sapphire, whilst the other Syndics stood around. He spoke in a muffled voice, but as he did so the skins of the others paled.
“I—see—the—Paaluan—ships,” he mumbled. “They are—but a few leagues—from Chemnis. They—will make land—the morrow.”
One by one, the Syndics dropped their incredulity. One said: “We must post-haste back to the Guildhall, to consider our next acture.”
“No time; we’ll meet here,” said Jimmon. “May we use your withdrawing room, Roska?”
As they filed into the room, Roska said: “At least, now you’ll not deny me my seat on the Board on the frivolous ground of my sex.”
“No such agreement was made ere you warned us,” said Jimmon.
“Marry me, Roska darling,” said a Syndic, “and you’ll be a Syndic’s wife, which gets you all the glory without the toil.”
“Marry me,” said another, “and I’ll use my influence to get you your seat. ’Twould do no harm to have two Syndics in one family.”
Another said: “I have a wife, but if the fair Roska would enter into an—ah—arrangement—”
“Shut thy gob, thou vulgar barbarian!” said Jimmon. “You know Madam Roska is the most virtuous woman in Ir. Besides, if she entered into any such arrangement, ’twere with me, who am much richer than you. Now, what about the black cannibals, eh?”
“If we hadn’t paid Zolon to send its fleet north against the pirates of Algarth,” said one, “their navy would make short work of the Paaluans.”
“But we did pay,” said Jimmon, “and the Zolonian navy did sail, and ’twere hopeless to try to recall them.”
“It wouldn’t have been, had you not taken so much time dickering with Maldivius,” said another.
“A pox on you! I had to husband the taxpayers’ money,” said Jimmon. “Had I taken Maldivius’ first offer, you’d have had my scalp for wasting the Republic’s wealth. Besides, right or wrong, that’s over and done with. The question is: what to do now?”
“Arm!” said one.
“You forget,” said Jimmon, “that we sold our reserve stock of arms to get the money to pay the High Admiral of Zolon for the Algarthian expedition.”
“Oh, gods!” said one. “What sort of mercenary idiots . . .”
And so it went for hours, with bitter recriminations. Each Syndic sought to cast the blame for the Republic’s unpreparedness on one of the others. When the day was well spent, the Syndics decreed the instant mobilization of the militia and commanded all men not under arms to betake themselves to the manufacture of weapons. They appointed the youngest of the Syndics, a financier named Laroldo, commander-in-chief.
Laroldo said: “I am deeply sensible of the honor you do me, gentlemen, and I will try to merit your approval. First, however, may I suggest that we keep our proceedings secret until the morrow, at which time we shall publish our decrees and send a messenger to Chemnis to warn the Chemnites? I think Your Excellencies understand why.” He winked at his fellow Syndics.
Madam Roska spoke up sharply: “Why the delay? Every hour is precious.”
“Well, ahem,” said Jimmon, “ ’tis too late in the day to do aught useful. Besides, we would fain not excite the commons; a panic in this underground city were a dreadful thing.”
“Oh, fiddlesticks!” said Roska. “I know what you’re up to. You mean to scour the markets and buy up all the food and other necessities, knowing that their prices will soar—especially if Ir be besieged. Shame on you, to take advantage of the people in this heartless fashion!”
“My dear Roska,” said Jimmon, “you are after all a woman, even if a beautiful and accomplished one. Therefore you don’t understand these things—”
“I understand well enough! I’ll tell the people of your plot to forestall and engross—”
“I think you’ll do nothing of the kind,” said Jimmon. “This is an executive session, with full power to control the release of its proceedings. Anyone who wantonly reveals what takes place here, before official publication, can be mulcted of his entire estate in fines. And you, my dear, are much too delicate to be a scrubwoman. Do I make myself clear, eh?”
Roska burst into tears and left the room. The Syndicate adjourned, and the Syndics gathered their cloaks and swords with unseemly haste. My tendrils told me that Roska was right; that they were frantic to get to the markets and shops ere they closed and ere rumors of the invasion sent prices up.
Next day, the orders of the Syndicate were posted, and two messengers galloped off towards Chemnis. During the entire day, Ir was in a state of furious bustle. Somewhat over four thousand militiamen—all for whom arms were to be had—and the two hundred-odd Shvenish mercenaries were mustered on the flat beyond the Tower of Ardyman. They were put through a few simple drills and marched off down the road to Chemnis. They made a brave showing with banners fluttering and Laroldo the banker, in full armor, riding at their head.
Another thousand or so remained behind on the flat, being drilled by old Segovian, the drillmaster. The youths drilled with staves and brooms until proper weapons could be found for them.
Segovian was a stout bear of a man with a grizzled beard and a voice like thunder. He was the only man in Ir who gave much thought to military matters. The other Irians looked upon him as somewhat of an uncouth, blood-thirsty barbarian. They kept him on as a necessary nuisance, like firemen and collectors of waste.
For over a century, the Republic had pursued a peaceful policy towards other Novarian nations. The Syndicate, the ruling body of the merchant aristocracy, devoted itself with single-minded acuteness to the amassing of wealth. Some of these riches were judiciously spent in hiring the navy of Zolon to ward the coast. Some went in bribes to other Novarian leaders, playing one off against another and dissuading them from combining against Ir. The policy had worked well enough with other Novarians, but the Paaluans bid fair to be foes of another kidney.
V
LAROLDO THE BANKER
During this day of mobilization and bustle, I remained at Roska’s house to help her scry. For most of the day, however, this did us little good. The Paaluan wizards had become aware that they were being spied upon. No sooner should we get a fix with the Sapphire than their wizards would point their magical bones and spoil the picture. Therefore we had only brief glimpses of the foe.
From time to time, we shifted our view to the port of Chemnis. We kept watching and hoping for the messengers from Ir to arrive; but, as far as we could see, the town pursued its normal business undisturbed.
Late in the day, while watching Chemnis, I sighted a cluster of black specks on the western horizon. When I told Roska about them, she groaned.
“Oh, gods!” she cried. “ ’Tis the man-eaters, about to descend upon the unarmed Chemnites and slaughter the lot. What delays our messengers?”
“Distance, mainly,” quoth I. “Besides which, if I know you fickle Prime Planers, they’re as likely as not to have stopped off at a tavern and gotten drunk. Hold! I see something else.”
“What is it? What is it?”
“A man riding into Chemnis on a mule. Let me get a closer fix upon him. He appears old and bent, with long gray hair streaming out from under his hat; yet he lashes his beast to a canter. By the gods of Ning, it is my old master, the wizard Maldivius! Now I see him drawing rein as he passes a couple of Chemnites. He is shouting and waving his arms. Now he gallops on, to stop again and exhort the next passerby.”
“At least the Chemnites will have received some warning,” said Roska. “If they believe his warning and flee at once, they may escape the stew pot.”
“You Prime Planers never cease to amaze me, madam,” I said. “I had opined that Doctor Maldivius was too utterly selfish to be bothered with warning anybody of doom, unless the good doctor could extract a price for his information.”
“As you see, he’s not an utter scoundrel. We seldom are, or utter anything else for that matter.”
I continued to watch the port city. Evidently the first persons to whom Maldivius spoke disbelieved him, for they continued about their business as if nothing had happened. Little by little, however, his cries of warning began to take effect. I could see little clusters of people, standing about and gesticulating as they argued. Within an hour of the first warning, people began loading their goods into carts, or lashing them on the backs of beasts of burden, and taking the road up the Kyamos.
Less than half the townspeople had taken to the road, however, when the Paaluan fleet appeared off shore. Then terror struck. The road became jammed with hurrying townsfolk, jog-trotting and stumbling away from their city. Some went empty-handed, others with one or two treasured possessions snatched up at the last instant. I had lost track of Doctor Maldivius.
The Paaluan galleys swept into the harbor. Several drew up at unoccupied piers and quays. Paaluan soldiers dashed ashore and spread out, peering around corners as if they expected an ambush. Then whole companies disembarked, commanded by officers in feather cloaks of brilliant scarlet and yellow.
From one ship, men led down the companionway a multitude of animals unlike any I had seen. They were large creatures, big enough to carry a man in a saddle. They had slender muzzles and long ears, like those of an ass, but there the resemblance ended. They had short, clawed forelegs, hugely developed hindlegs, and long stiff tails. They progressed by hopping on their hindlegs, holding those tails up to balance the weight of their bodies. Altogether, they were something like the small Prime Plane beast called a rabbit, but on a huge scale.
As soon as the hopping beasts were ashore, the Paaluans who led them swung into the saddles on their backs and went bounding away, as swiftly as a horse can gallop. The last few Chemnites were just leaving the city, and the Paaluan cavalry caught up with some of these. Some simply rode down their victims and speared them with lances or hurled javelins into their bodies. Others whirled a device of cord and stones and threw it, so that it wrapped itself around the fugitives’ legs and felled them to earth, where they were swiftly secured and dragged back to Chemnis.
It was now Madam Roska’s turn to scry; but scarce had she obtained her fix when she screamed and covered her eyes. She became incoherent. To learn what had so terrified her, I had to go back into the trance myself.
Down another companionway from a ship came a procession of even more formidable creatures. The Paaluans had trained several score of their dragon-lizards as cavalry mounts. Since a full-grown dragon often exceeded fifty feet in length, one could bear several riders in tandem.
The driver bestrode the reptile’s neck. Behind him came six or eight others, seated in pairs on a kind of howdah. The usual complement was four archers and two spearmen. All covered their nakedness with a curious kind of jointed armor, made (I learnt later) of pieces of lacquered leather. Although not so strong as a good suit of steel, such as Othomaean knights wear, it was light and practical. Since one galley could accommodate only a small number of these lizards, the force was divided up among many ships. Because of the limitation of docking space, it took two full days to disembark the entire force, which outnumbered ours by perhaps two to one.
Meanwhile, the Paaluans already ashore spread out and occupied the deserted buildings of Chemnis. The Chemnites whom the bouncing Paaluan cavalry had caught were slain, cut up, and prepared as food by salting or smoking.
On the third day after the landing, the Paaluan army marched up the valley of the Kyamos, with mounted scouts and flankers thrown widely out to guard against surprise.
Meanwhile, Roska’s house became practically an annex of the Guildhall, the Syndics coming in at all hours for news of what we had seen. Old Kormous spent many hours in the oratory, relieving Roska and me at our scrying.
At the same time, word of the invasion swiftly spread throughout the Republic. As a result, peasantry and townsfolk stampeded from the rest of the nation into Ir City, which had the repute of impregnability. Hence the city became overcrowded, with people sleeping in the subterranean streets.
###
At last came the day of battle. Kormous and I were both in trance, watching the Sapphire from opposite sides of the table. We could not see much, first because of the interference of the Paaluan wizards, and secondly because of the clouds of dust.
As far as I could see, the Syndic Laroldo attempted none of those military subtleties—deceptive maneuvers and the like—that some Prime Plane nations have developed to such a pitch of artistry. He simply lined up his army, with the Shvenites around him in the center, waved his sword, and ordered them forward. Then all was lost in the dust.
It was only a fraction of an hour later, however, that we began to glimpse fugitives—Irians, not Paaluans—running madly from the battle. We saw some Irians shot or speared by the crews on the backs of the dragon-lizards, while the lizards gobbled a few. Then, as the scene shifted, I saw His Excellency Laroldo galloping eastwards. The Syndics present at this session of scrying cried aloud, beat their breasts, tore their hair, and uttered maledictions and threats against Laroldo, whom they blamed for the defeat.
###
The banker-turned-soldier reached Ir a few hours later and staggered into Madam Roska’s home, covered with dust and blood and with several pieces of his armor dangling by single straps. He threw the stump of his broken sword on the floor and told the assembled Syndics: “We’re beaten.”
“We know that, you fool,” said Jimmon. “How bad is it?”
“Total, as far as I’m concerned,” said Laroldo. “The militia folded up at the first shock and ran like rabbits.”
“What of the Shvenites?”
“When they saw the day was lost, they formed a hollow square and marched off, presenting a hedgehog with their pikes. The enemy let them go, preferring to chase easier prey that would not fight back.”
One Syndic said: “I do notice that you saved your own precious neck. A hero would have fallen trying to rally his men.”
“By Franda’s golden locks, I’m no hero, merely a banker. And ’twould have done you no good for me to have fallen on the field. Since we were well outnumbered, the battle would have come out the same, and you’d not have had what little help I can give you. Had I consulted my own safety merely, I should have ridden off to Metouro. After ’tis over, an we still live, you may hang, shoot, or behead me as you list. Meanwhile, let’s get on with the job.” My tendrils told me that the man was sincere.
“Well said,” quoth another Syndic, for much of the Syndicates’ rancor against Laroldo had abated in the face of so huge a catastrophe. “But tell me, Master Laroldo, we’ve followed your advance by the scry stone. Why tried you not some trick maneuver—a feint or a flanking movement, for example? I’ve read how other generals have beaten superior forces by such sleights.”
“They had armies of well-trained men—veterans—whereas I had a mob of tyros. Even had I known about such maneuvers, ’twas all I could do to get my gaggle of geese lined up and all moving in the same direction at once. But now, if you crave not to be fodder for the cannibals, you needs must raise a new army. Make it of boys, grandsires, slaves, and women if need be, and arm them with brooms and bricks if swords and arrows be lacking. For those who come against us meant to salt you and ship you back to Paalua to dine on for many a moon.”
“You don’t suppose we could buy them off, eh?” said Jimmon. “Our treasury flourishes.”
“Not a chance. Their land is mostly desert and hence poor in pasture whereon to raise edible beasts. They crave flesh, and every so often they sally forth to other continents to get it. Nor do they care whether ’tis the flesh of men or of beasts. And so, right now, one good iron arrowhead is worth more to you than its weight in refined gold.”
There was a general chorus of sighs around the circle of Syndics. Jimmon said: “Ah, well, now that it’s too late, ’tis easy to see the follies of our former courses. It shall be done as Master Laroldo prescribes.”
“Can’t we seek for aid from one or another of the Twelve Cities?” said a Syndic.
Jimmon frowned in thought. “Tonio of Xylar is hostile because of his alliance with Govannian. We shall be lucky if he try not to join forces with the invaders.”
“ ’Twere like one rabbit allying himself with a wolf against another rabbit,” said a Syndic. “Both would end up in the wolf’s gut.”
“True, but try to tell King Tonio that,” said Jimmon. “Govannian is hopeless for the same reason. Metouro is friendly, but their army is mobilized on the border of Govannian, to meet the threat from there. Besides which, the Faceless Five have become suspicious of their own army of late, because a revolutionary conspiracy amongst the officers has come to light. Nay, I fear no help is to be looked for thence.”
“How about Solymbria?”
“Solymbria’s policy of neutrality might possibly be bent—if Solymbria were not under that addlepate Gavindos.”
“The gods must have meant to chastise Solymbria when they caused the lot to fall upon him,” said Roska. “My bondsman Zdim were a better archon than he.”
Jimmon stared at me, his eyes slits in his fat, round face. “That gives me an idea. O Zdim!”
“Aye, sir?”
“As an outlander, an indentured servant, and not even human, you are in no position to command those of this plane. Natheless, when I have heard you speak, meseemed that you made better sense than many of our wise men. What course would you suggest?”
“You ask
me,
sir?”
“Yes, yes. What would you say, eh?”
“Well, sir, I strive to give satisfaction . . .” I thought a while, during which the Syndics watched me like gamblers watching the spin of the wheel. “First of all, did I understand Master Laroldo to be a banker?”
“Aye,” grunted Laroldo, who was gulping a flagon of Roska’s fine wine as if it had been small beer. “None surpasses me at low interest on loans and high on deposits. Would you borrow or lend?”
“Neither, Your Excellency. But enlighten my ignorance, pray: have you in sooth had no warlike experience ere this?”
“Nay; why should I? We’ve been at war with no one. ’Tis usual for one Syndic to command the forces. Since I was the youngest and most active, they chose me.”
“Well, sirs, on our plane, for any enterprise where the results of error be so perilous, we prefer to choose as captain a demon with practice in that line. We have a saying, that experience is the best teacher. Is there nobody in Ir who has fought with weapons?”
A Syndic said: “There’s old Segovian, the drill-master. He would have marched with the army, but we commanded him to stay in Ir and train recruits. He’s no blaze of brilliance, but at least he knows which end of a spear to poke with.”
“Humph,” said Jimmon. “Suppose we make Segovian commander, and he raise another militia? There ought to be enough lusty farm lads amongst the refugees who’ve swarmed in upon us. Then the Paaluans arrive. They can’t get in against even feeble resistance, so strong our position is; but neither can we break out. No matter how lavish our supplies of food and water, they’ll run short in time. What then?”
“Well, sir—” I thought some more. “You say there is plenty of money in the treasury, yes?”
“Aye.”
“You hired a corps of barbarians from Shven—those tall, yellow-haired fellows—did you not?”
“The bastards deserted us,” growled Laroldo.
“One can’t blame them overmuch,” said Jimmon. “When they saw the day was lost, why should they march back hither and put their heads in the noose by reentering the city? Go on, Zdim.”
“Well then, whence came these men? I know in a general way that Shven lies beyond mountains to the north, but where exactly got you these fellows?”
“They were recruited from the Hruntings,” said a Syndic.
“Where, exactly, are they?”
“The Hruntings dwell across the Ellornas from Solymbria. Their cham is Theorik, son of Gondomerik.”
“If,” said I, “you could get a messenger to this Theorik with a promise of much gold, could he fetch back an army large enough to vanquish the Paaluans?”