sentries had not gone to sleep. In this ragtag outfit, there was nobody he could delegate the duty to. Except Gorn – but Gorn, when given responsibility, was a savage disciplinarian, and Alish did not want to wake up to find someone had got their head hacked off as a consequence of falling asleep on sentry duty.
Alish also needed to lecture Blackwood and Valarkin. He could prove nothing, but he suspected they had been making off in the night when the enemy attacked. Otherwise why would he have found them unloading their packs from muddy horses after the battle?
Even without proof positive, Alish would have punished the pair severely, except that his will tojustice was disabled by his guilt over his own hand in the decision to leave a mad-jewel behind in Castle Vaunting. He was sure that setting a jewel to guard the castle was the right move – but he should have forced Comedo to agree to evacuate the castle first.
He consoled himself with the thought that taking Heenmor took precedence over everything else. Garash had casually suggested inflicting madness on the castle's surplus population and Comedo had taken the idea to heart; Alish could not afford to waste the time needed to argue Comedo out of his enthusiasms.
So… … Blackwood and Valarkin got off with a lecture.
'We now know the enemy have got patrols following us,' said Alish. 'It's obvious what they want. A prisoner: to interrogate. To find out our numbers, our intentions, and the nature of the unthinkable powers we've used against them.
'That's what I'd want, if I was the Collosnon commander: information. And I'd happily tear a man apart with red-hot hooks to get it. You may think you can escape from me. Perhaps you're right – but you can guarantee the enemy would kill you if I didn't.'
Alish saw that Valarkin was too frightened to give him any more trouble, and that Blackwood would not try anything again because he had lapsed into a mood of profound fatalism. Alish was right. In Blackwood's case, a brief stand against authority had brought instant and absolute failure, thereby confirming the beliefs which had been bred into him.
Besides… he could not hope to get away for another day at the earliest, which was a long time in the lives of the helpless people left behind at Castle Vaunting… by now, he knew, there was probably no point in returning even if he had been allowed to.
They marched on without event – until, one evening, disaster befell Valarkin. At first, when his waking nightmare started, he panicked, drew a knife – then found there was nothing sensible he could do with it. He decided his only hope was to ask the wizards for help. And quickly!
First he went to Phyphor, who listened with little patience then – doubtless with malicious intent – told him to take his problem to Garash. But when Valarkin did so, he was interrupted by a roar of fury:
T am not a pox doctor!'
Garash was so angry that sparks jumped from between the fingers of his clenched fists. His protruber-ant eyes bulged in fury.
That left only Miphon, who was showing Blackwood, Durnwold, Elkor Alish and a handful of interested fighting men how a poisonous yellow bladder-shaped fungus called cauchaumaur could be made safe to eat when brewed up with the petals of a red flower called summerfire.
'Miphon,' said Valarkin.
'What is it?' said Miphon.
He did not glance away from his simmering cauldron. He was watching for the instant when the brew would turn purple. Then he would have to add cold water immediately, cooling the brew, which would be safe to eat if eaten straight away. It was a very delicate operation.
'I need to talk to you.'
T can't leave this. What's the matter?'
'I'm sick.'
'Sick?' said Miphon.
All sorts of things occurred to him: food poisoning, typhoid, dysentry. The last would be the worst: one person with dysentry could contaminate the whole army faster than anything.
'If you're busy, I'll talk to you later.'
'No,' said Miphon, 'I'd better know straight away.' 'Well – '
'Spit it out,' said Alish.
'Yes,' said Miphon, 'We have to know.'
'Well… a leech has crawled up the eye of my penis.'
The reaction from the fighting men was instantaneous: roars of laughter, hooting, backslapping. It was the best joke they'd heard for days.
The brew in the cauldron turned purple. Miphon poured in a helmet-full of cold water. The colour changed, quick as fingers snapping, to a deep orange.
'While it stays orange you can eat it,' said Miphon.
As the men set to, tucking into the orange mixture, Durnwold glanced at Valarkin – and Valarkin saw that he had embarrassed his brother.
'Have a piss somewhere,' said Durnwold. 'Leeches don't like salt or hot water, and there's both when you piss.'
'He's right,' said Miphon, still watching the brew in the cauldron in case it had not been completely neutralised. 'It'll come out as soon as you start making things uncomfortable for it. There's nothing to worry about.'
One of the fighting men made a low-voiced remark to his neighbour, and that set them off again, laughing. Valarkin knew that he would suffer for this for a long time: jokes, winks, ribald asides. As if life hadn't been hard enough already!
Death, death, death: death was the only cure for the laughter. Each mouth to taste ashes, each eye to see char: Valarkin muttered the words of the Bitterbane Curse, but there was no god to hear them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Trest: a land bounded to the east and south by hills and mountains, to the west by marshland swamps, and to the north by the sea. The port of Skua, which is a fishing village, is on the northern coast.
Ruler: Prince Jeferies, a cousin of Prince Comedo of Estar. He governs from his High Castle, a stronghold of wizard make located, roughly speaking, in the middle of Trest.
Reaching Skua, Hearst and his scouting party found an invasion fleet at anchor, and the surrounding countryside alive with enemy patrols. Wearing stolen Collosnon armour, and daring much on the basis of a little of the enemy's command language, Ordhar, which he had learnt from Volaine Persaga Haveros, Hearst infiltrated Skua.
All he collected was rumours, and the news that some very important people had gone missing, including the enemy's invasion commander, Lord Pentalon Alagrace, and the spy Volaine Persaga Haveros. After pushing his luck further than he should have, Hearst left Skua unscathed.
On his way to the High Castle, his small band of men had to avoid parties of Collosnon soldiers retreating north. Hearst guessed that the High Castle had been under siege; arriving there, Comedo's men would have attacked the besiegers, triumphing with the aid of the mad-jewel, leaving small disorganised groups of survivors to flee to Skua with news of a fresh disaster for the invaders.
Hearst was, therefore, not surprised to find the countryside around the High Castle littered with dead bodies, and Comedo's men being feted as liberators.
A council of war was held, at which Hearst told the story of his adventures, and in return received the latest
