professional beggar 'niece.' She must have done a fair job of cleaning out the Sprite family's pantry, as well as expropriating some of their children's clothes.
Nalin had apparently retreated into the upper reaches of the castle. As they got higher, it became apparent that they were catching up on the fighting, and that it had been fierce. Burned areas showed that the High Lord had been forced to make his own path forward. The air stank of smoke, fear, and the coppery smell of Sprite blood.
Captain Pausert began to wonder if he should perhaps have left Goth and the Leewit with the grateful Sprite family. But the Leewit reassured him. 'They say it's all over. A small party cut their way out through the shutters and the rest are dead or captive. And the High Lord and the foreign Lady are still alive. Oh. And Pul bit someone.'
Pul had indeed bitten someone. Lord Nalin had not been one of those who got away. The Sprites moved aside to allow the captain through to Hantis and the High Lord Arvin.
'They say you're a hero, Captain,' said Hantis. Her brown face had sooty smudges and a shallow scratch on it. 'That you charged the barricades alone.'
'You know the captain thinks he has to look after us . . .' Goth's voice trailed off, and it was hardly surprising. Lord Nalin was on the ground in a circle of nervous Sprite-soldiers. He was jerking and twitching, and something that looked like gray dust was spilling out of him.
'Poisoned Nanites,' said Hantis grimly.
'And the others? Was he the only one infected?' asked the captain, both fascinated and revolted.
'No. At least seven of them got away. They fled in the direction of Delaron.' There was no expression in Hantis' voice. 'We also have the infected but not yet controlled ones.'
She patted High Lord Arvin on the shoulder. 'High Lord, this one is safe. But we must deal with the others. We must sterilize their nest.' She turned back to Pausert, Goth, the Leewit and Vezzarn. 'Come. See what we're up against.'
They went through into an adjoining room. This did not look like it was a home—even a war-smashed home —of the detail and decor-conscious Sprites. Instead the glass and bric-a-brac with which the Sprites filled every spare corner had been carelessly swept together. Glass, gold, silver, gems and crystal lay broken and jumbled in a trash pile.
On the floor lay some twenty-seven Sprites. Males. Females. Even a child. Their bodies convulsed every now and again. Their eyes were open . . . and empty.
* * *
Hantis saw how the High Lord started when he saw the infected ones.
Then he gave a cry of horror and would have run into the room, if Hantis had not restrained him. 'You don't understand,' he said frantically, trying to pull away from her hands. 'Hantis, that is Neirion there! We must help her! We are betrothed.'
'No, my Lord Arvin,' said Hantis. 'It is you who do not understand. That
'But we must get them out of her! We
'We can't. We have found no way of doing so. Not without killing the victim. Anyway, it is already too late.' She spoke as gently as she could, knowing full well that it was this moment that had transformed the gentle young Arvin into Arvin Warmaker, who had half-destroyed Nartheby to save it. And been cursed by generations unborn for his goodness and greatness.
'You must destroy this with your klatha power. Destroy all of Lord Nalin's chambers. Sterilize everything with cleansing fire. It is the greatest—the only—mercy you can give to those infected.'
Hantis saw the anguish in the young High Lord's face. 'I can't!'
'High Lord Arvin. Unless you would see all Aloorn, and indeed all Nartheby like that, you must. Our dominions are already lost. Without you, we are, too.' She paused. 'And you do have the strength. Three thousand years later we still remember that you did.'
CHAPTER 32
It had been a more comfortable rest than the last couple he'd had, Captain Pausert had to admit. The Sprites were treating them rather like royalty, even if Hantis said that they would still have to appear in the Hall of Stars before High Lord Arvin in the Seat of Judgment the next morning. Arvin was recovering from the immense amount of klatha energy he'd expended. If Hantis was right, he was also preparing to attack and destroy the neighboring principality, as part of saving his species and the galaxy from the Nanite plague
That was all very well, but the captain wanted to get back to saving his own species and the galaxy from the same plague—three thousand years from now. It was of course logical that it had to be saved earlier, in order to have it around to save later, but Arvin seemed to have the matter in hand. He was doing just fine, and didn't need them at all, other than some advice from Hantis and the loan of Pul as a stud. But Pausert was no nearer to solving his own problem of how to get them back. The vatch was still around, but it was keeping its distance.
The Hall of Stars was just as full as it had been the last time they had been there. And once again they were in the gallery reserved for the accused. But this time they were respectfully ushered into it.
'It's mostly a formality,' said Hantis, with slight unease. 'It was all something of a misunderstanding.'
'But you did call the High Lord names,' pointed out the Leewit, a bit self-righteously. 'You punched him in the belly, too.'
'And you, little lady, did willfully destroy precious crystals, some of which had been grown for more than five centuries in zero-gravity.'
'Hey! The little squirts were going to fry us!' protested the Leewit.
'That takes some nerve—you, calling anyone else a little squirt.' Hantis smiled impishly. 'It's not that the High Lord wants to punish us, but Sprite law is quite inflexible. He'll have to go through the motions. If there are complainants, then he has to act. But now that the truth is being told, Arvin and the others are somewhat embarrassed. No one will complain.'
But it soon became apparent that although High Lord Arvin was content to let bygones be bygones, some of the other Sprites were not. First, the accusers got to speak.
'They're saying,' said the Leewit with a frown, 'that misunderstanding or no, Hantis insulted Aloorn's honor. And we destroyed part of the ancient heritage of Aloorn. And that one is saying that the High Lord is taking a stranger's word and destroying part of—hey, wait a minute! I recognize him! That's the one they called Wellpo. He's one of those three that kidnapped me!'
'Ah,' said Hantis. 'I will ask the guard to take a message to the High Lord. I could tell he was lying, but I thought that it was merely politics, which is mostly lies. You don't remember the name of the third kidnapper?'
The Leewit shook her head. 'No. She had a sharp chin and a pointy nose, that was all I noticed.'
'Well, that means it could only be about any of the Sprites,' said Goth with a yawn. The captain knew how she felt. The proceedings were long and the seats comfortable enough to encourage a nap. Below them the arguments went back and forth. And on and on, rather like a slow foreign play in which the dialogue was the only important part. Then, just as the captain was dropping off to sleep, things suddenly got more interesting.
'They're grabbing old Wellpo!' squeaked the Leewit with delight. 'Said he'd stick a knife into me. Oh, look! He's hit one of the High Lord's guards over the head!'
Pausert sat up and peered over the edge of the gallery. There was quite a fracas going on in a gallery some ways down and further to his right. And, he noticed, one going on across to their left that the Leewit hadn't yet spotted.
He took her by the elbow and pointed. 'That your lady with a pointy nose?'
The hat of the 'lady' in question had just been knocked off. She was struggling with two of the High Lord's guards.
'Yep,' said the Leewit in satisfaction. 'I guess they got her, too.' Then her eyes narrowed and she whistled. Several pieces of expensive crystal in the far gallery shattered, including a globe in the long-nosed woman's hand.
