The Nonborn King (9 page)

"Who you callin' a minion?" snarled Orion

Several of the other men, mouths gaping, shrank back from the kneeling figure. "Goddam loony'" one muttered "Call him off, Wayland'" said another. But at that moment three huge rocks impacted, and the vee of the broken log jutted inward more acutely. Little Beniamino licked his lips and rolled bloodshot eyes. "Doogie's got a point, guys. The ones that were ambushed outside died quick. But if the friggerty Howlers capture us, they might take their sweet time with the snuffin' party, like when they grabbed poor Alt and Veng Hong last month."

Dougal lowered the point of the dagger until it was level with Tony's diaphragm. "Say but the word, milord. We will meet again before the throne of Asian."

"Hold it!" the metallurgist exclaimed, cringing against the eastern wall. He held out his crossbow- After a pause, Dougal sheathed his blade and took the weapon with a courteous bow. Tony told him, "We still have the arbalests. Sir Dougal, even though they don't have the range of your compound bow. And the logs may be bending, but they're still in place. Fort Rusty and the other villages should know by now that we're in trouble. We missed the ten-hundred-hour sked. If we can just stand fast until they send reinforcements, "

"Keep dreaming, Wayiand," a miner said bitterly. Another man curled up, head between his knees, shaking with soundless sobs Hamid, who ran the turpentine still, consulted his wrist gyrocompass to ascertain the direction of Mecca six million years into the future, then prostrated himself and began his final prayers.

Orion Blue went to one of the eastern apertures that overlooked the Moselle and scanned the mist-hung waters through a small monocular

"Hellfar an' white lightnin'!" he ejaculated, drawing back from the loophole as though electroshocked "There is suthin' comin'' But sure's shit it ain't no troops from Rusty."

Everybody except Hamid and the weeping miner crowded for a look A large raft was drawing up to the landing stage It bore a towering wooden apparatus resembling a derrick on a wheeled platform. The upper part of the contraption had a pivoting arm with a scooplike container at one end and an amorphous bulky object at the other A complex web of rope tackle linked the arm to the carnage- When the barge was made fast, three monstrous Howlers attached cables to the wooden engine, settled themselves into a troika hitch, and began hauling the thing toward the village's open gate

"Maledizione!" wailed Beniamino "Una bombarda!"

"What the hell is that?" Tony asked.

Sir Dougal studied the machine with professional interest "A mangonel. Or could il be a perrier^ A bncole? Funny. . I never heard of Howlers using mechanical devices before."

"What does it rio?" Tony yelled in exasperation.

"It just might be an onager," Dougal mused. He turned gravely to Orion Blue "May I borrow your spyglass for half a tick?"

The mine foreman turned it over without a word Douga! stared intently, muttering beneath his breath. "Not a classical ballista- Counterweigh ted Od's bodikins, I think I've got it' It's a trehuchet'." Beaming, he handed the monocular back to Orion.

Tony was nearly screaming. "What, does, it, do?"

The knight shrugged. "Well, it's a medieval catapult, you see. They'll finish us by lobbing rocks at the roof."

"Hell/or!" Orion groaned

Tony watched the approach of the siege engine with fatalistic awe. The middle monster of the hauling team was a hideous prodigy that Dougal identified as a "fachan." It moved m awkward hops because it had only a single columnar leg. An armless hand more than a meter wide, equipped with black claws, sprang directly from its chicken-breasted trunk. Its head had a cyclopean eye and a froggy mouth from which an obscenely prehensile tongue lolled. The fachan's yokemates were somewhat more conventional horrors: a two-meter crested lizard with fiery carbuncle eyes, and a tall warthog, sky-blue, that walked on its hind legs.

As the Howler trio toiled into the village compound, they filled the air with valorous hoots. Their compeers on the high ground above the fort responded gleefully, then sent a veritable avalanche of stone cascading down on the log barracks. The sheer volume of the fresh assault now provided an ironic respite to the trapped miners. Enough rocks had piled in front of the western wall to form a salient angle, a wedge-shaped mass that tended to deflect rolling missiles to the right or left of the target. When it became clear to the exotic foe that the boulder-bowling maneuver had lost its effectiveness, the Howlers on the hill cut off their bombardment to await the arrival of the trebuchet.

Dougal raised his arms. The glittering links of mail and scarlet surcoal made him a splendid figure in the dusty gloom"Mount, mount, my soul, thy seat is up on high' Whilst my gross flesh sinks downward, here to die " He closed his eyes with a sigh of theatrical melancholy "Damn ree-tard'" Orion grabbed up the crossbow, which the knight had discarded, and a leather bucket of iron-tipped quarrels. "Snap out of it, Doogie! Haul yer ass over yonder to the front wall. Those spooks on the machine are comin' in range of a crossbow shot!"

Dougal shed his aura of detachment "What sayest thou, 0 lean unwashed artificer?" "They got their internal slingshot over next t' naval-stores shop' And they're ciunbin' all over it Gettm' ready, I 'spect. But they're exposed, and you kin pot the suckers if you calc'late a good trajectory "

Dougal, Tony, and most of the miners rushed to join Orion at the northern wall. The flat area between the barracks and the industrial buildings was strewn with bodies, both human and chaliko. When the Howlers launched their surprise attack, a caravan loaded with pig iron had been on the point of leaving for Fort Rusty. The trebuchet now rested in a position about 90 meters from the barracks, partially screened by one comer of the wood-distillation shed. A large pile of conifer stumps next to the naval-stores shop provided partial cover for the enemy, but the men inside the barracks could see a dark shape moving in the upper part of the siege engine, probably adjusting its tackle.

"Enemy on the move!" Bemammo peered through one of the western loopholes. "They're coming down the hill, circling to the north. Gonna help their buddies with ammo for the bombarda, I bet."

Shapes far out of crossbow range now drifted between the far section of the village palisade and the iron pit, where the red ore made a shocking contrast to the jungle greenery, like an open wound in the land An eene silence had fallen, broken only by creaking noises as the Howler engineer tinkered with the trebuchet

Douga! took aim. Wuring went the crossbow. On the other side of the compound, something let out a gurgling bellow. A sky-blue carcass tumbled from the trebuchel tower, seeming to shrink to a much smaller black form before disappearing from view A chorus of angry howls went up from behind the stump pile.

"Hee-ya/i!" Orion smote his thigh joyously, still holding the monocular to his eye- "Look sharp' T'other side o' the pile! Suthin' movin' in that palmetty thicket!"

Wuring.

An apparition like a tanged furry pushball leaped into the air, vestigial limbs flailing, uttering screeches like a catamount As it dropped out of sight it. too, shape-shifted into a different form.

"A hit. a very palpable hit'" quoth Dougal

"That's two," Orion chuckled

Tony clapped the big knight on one mailed shoulder "Well done, my man "

"Your servant, milord "

Bemammo drew in a sharp breath "Hey, the throwing arm on the machine is moving They must be getting ready to fire "

Dougal squinted desperately through the arbalest sight "I can't see a fuckin' thing I mean, the foe eludes mine eye, Goodman Napoli, and I, hoo boy' Here she comes'"

The counterweighted lever was drawn fully down The entire mechanism vibrated Abruptly, the counterweight fell, the arm whipped up, and a block of granite that must have weighed 50 kilos came whistling over the roof of the barracks It landed on the far side with an echoing crash

"Bismallah'" cned the Son of the Prophet, falling to his knees once more "That's cooked us "

"Do something, Dougal'" Tony urged his heroic vassal But the ginger-bearded head wagged in helpless chagrin "I cannot descry the demons clearly, milord They skulk behind the stillshed "

"Still'" Tony's face lit up "The naval stores' Tar, pitch, turpentine, barrels of the stuff in the wood-distillation shop if you could hit it with a flaming arrow, "

A heavy thud betokened the fall of another rock less than five meters short of the barracks

"They got us bracketed," groaned Orion "Get outa the line o' fire, ever'body'"

They scattered Tony cursed wildly, trying to modify an arrow shaft so that it could be launched by the crossbow Somebody found a parfleche full of flammable pitch and Bemdimno used his skill as camp cook to quickly kindle d light

The first missile to find its mark fell through the roof JUS! as Tony solved the arrow problem The place became a bedlam of noise and swirling debns A falling timber struck one of the

THfc POSTDILUVIUM 3?

miners across the shoulders, pinning him to the floor As men struggled to rescue the victim, shouting and coughing. Tony finished lashing the pitch-smeared wad to the shaft and touched it off He thrust the firebrand at Douga!

"Only one chance Right through the open window of the still-shop Kill, big fella'"

Dougal aimed and let fly, and then everything seemed to happen at once Another great rock shattered the roofjust above the loophole where Tony and Dougai were standing Planks and rafters rained down while they tried to shield their heads Tony felt himself falling, there was a tremendous whoomp, a prolonged clatter, a ragged chorus of distant exotic screams

As Tony fetched up in a tangle of roof poles like a broken doll caught in a pile of giant's pick-up-sticks, he heard Orion's Johnny-Reb yell and presumed that the fire-arrow had found its target Then oblivion claimed him

He woke up, splinted and bandaged The face of Denny Johnson, Lowlife Warlord Pro Tern, beamed down at him like a bitumen-painted mask The Hidden Springs medic named Jafar was there, too, and so was the chief honcho. Old Man Kawai himself

Tony tried to speak His mouth would not open "Wha' hop'n?" he inquired mushtly

The doctor lifted Tony's head, proffered a glass of water with a straw, and helped him to dnnk "Your broken jaw's wired shut Take it easy "

"Aths muths be'er " The metallurgist managed a crooked smile "So cav'ry 'nve juths in thime, eh'?"

Denny nodded "Our barge from Fort Rusty landed a gang of fighters while the spooks were trying to douse the burning catapult and rescue their wounded We finished them all off "

Old Man Kawai said, "You and the other defenders put up a magnificent resistance, Wayland-san Free humanity owes you a priceless debt "

"Thumfnggin' vic'ry, "Tony muttered weanly "Thpookths nailed thir'y, for'y of uths "

Kawai hastened to explain His sallow, incredibly wrinkled face trembled with animation "The human losses are lamentable. Wayland-san. but even so, these comrades have not died in vain We gained invaluable intelligence from this encounter "

Tony interrupted with an invalid's petulance "Doogy' Where'ths Doogy?"

The doctor messed around with some kind of monitor device stuck onto Tony's forehead "He's becoming overexcited "

Tony tried to nse up His eyes were wide "Don' mean ol' Doogy 'ths decuf"

Kawal said, "Sir Dougal is alive and recovering So are five other of your companions "

Tony gave a sigh and relaxed "Rm' " He began to drift off, but then his eyes snapped open and he regarded the aged Japanese with piercing intensity "Intelhgenths? Wha' inteltigenths?"

Denny Johnson bent over the bed "All these months, we've blamed the spook attacks on Howlers, the deformed mutants who never accepted the alliance between humanity and the Firvulag We knew the hostiles had to be Howlers, because the Little People have been our bosom buddies ever since the Fall of Fmiah That's what we thought "

"You mean those thpookths, "

Kawai's black button eyes glittered angnly "The dead bodies of your attackers shape-shifted back to their normal form What Denny and his troops discovered during the mopping up was not the remains of mutants, but of normal Firvulag Our putative allies " He shook his head "Madame Guderian never trusted the Little People Her doubts have been confirmed The Firvulag have mounted these treacherous strikes hoping to force us to abandon the Iron Villages They fear the blood metal, in spite of our avowals that we would never use iron weapons against our friends "

Tony blinked "Mebbe juths Firv'lag hotheadths "

Denny said, "The corpses wore obsidian armor They were regulars in me army of King Sharn and Queen Ayfa And their use of the siege engine shows that they aren't wasting any time in adopting new methods of warfare now that the balance of power has shifted in their favor "

"We would never have discovered this,' Kawai added, "if you had not withstood them so valiantly "

Tony moaned He turned away

"He's got to rest now,' the doctor insisted

The wounded metallurgist mumbled one last phrase, then subsided into sleep

Kawai's brow wrinkled anxiously "Doctor Jafar? What did he say?"

"i think", the physician frowned in puzzlement, "it was 'Take me back to Finiah'"'

5

LADY ESTELLA-SlRONE, THE WIDOWED HUMAN CHATELAINE OF

Darask, had been so certain that Elizabeth would approve the chalet that she sent her major domo on ahead to make preparations. together with those who had volunteered for the domestic and security staff. The main body of refugees remained encamped at the western end of Lac Provencal. From there it was only a half-day's ride to the hunting lodge on Black Crag, in the midst of the Montagne Noire region of southern France.

By the time that Elizabeth and her four friends and their escort of loyal human and Tanu gold-torcs arrived for their inspection tour. the redoubtable Hughie B. Kennedy VII had his mistress's rustic retreat swept and garnished and ready for guests A table in the pnvate dining room adjoining the master suite (which was proposed as Elizabeth's apartment) had been set with the Irish major dome's idea of a light lunch- marinated mushrooms, poached froglegs in champagne aspic, stuffed green olives, smoked salmon, plovers' eggs a la Christiana, ham souffle with asparagus tips, glazed quails cerisette, cold roast hippanon, Waldorf salad, pat6 de foie gras, sourdough breadrolls, oranges rubanees, and carob-chip cookiesIt was the first festive and civilized meal that the five leaders of the Munah evacuation had seen in months They fetl to in an atmosphere of bittersweet celebration.