'Lod worked for everyone,' said Plovey. 'Farfalla paid him to be an additional bodyguard to young Sean Sarazin. Oh yes, your mother took good care of you, believe me. Lod was sworn to your defence, thanks to your mother's gold.'
'I never knew,' said Sarazin, appalled by his own ignorance.
'Of course,' said Plovey, smiling, 'Lod also worked for Lord Regan. I didn't know it at the time, but I found out later. Oh, many secrets have come out of the woodwork since the Swarms stormed Drangsturm. People now freely tell secrets they would once have carried to their grave even in the teeth of torture.' 'Lod… Lod was Lord Regan's spy?'
'Lord Regan's agent. Lord Regan had many such in Selzirk. Of course, Lod also worked for me.' 'He worked for you?'
'He took my gold,' said Plovey, with another smile, 'and, now and again, gave me just a little information. Not enough to kill Sean Sarazin. Oh no, he didn't want you dead. You were very precious to him. Your life guaranteed him a triple income. But he told me a little, now and then.' 'How about Benthorn?' said Sarazin. 'What do you think?'
'I think he was your creature through and through,' said Sarazin. 'Yet you did business with him.'
'A little, and with great caution,' said Sarazin. 'It did me no harm, did it?'
You survived,' conceded Plovey.
'And Madam Ix? Madam Sosostris? Mistress Turbothot? How did they fit into the scheme of things?'
'The two fortune-tellers played a double game. They worked for Lord Regan and for me as well. Again – neither of them wanted you dead. They told me enough to earn their pay, but not enough to condemn you. But Mistress Turbothot… ah, she was mine. We almost got you, didn't we, darling boy?'
'You were very cunning,' admitted Sarazin. 'But… if you wanted me dead, why didn't you just send in assas- sins? I know it's not traditional, but surely, under the circumstances…'
You were watched, you were guarded, you were a warrior in your own right. You weren't the easiest of targets, darling boy. Besides… I am an artist. What's more, two can play at that game. Farfalla had told me as much to my face. Now… shall we attend to this map?'
Sarazin stared at Plovey. He needed time to absorb what he had been told. A lot of time. So much had happened, so suddenly. He had learnt that Hearst had not made himself ruler of Selzirk, that it was Hearst who had destroyed Drangsturm, that Farfalla had fled, that Lod had been a spy…
'Just one more question,' said Sarazin. 'You raided my quarters. Why?'
'Because I was set up, of course,' said Plovey equably. 'I was told I'd find certain proof of conspiracy which would damn you and your mother both. Instead… well, you know the rest.'
'There was in fact proof of conspiracy in my quarters,' said Sarazin. 'Not certain proof, but evidence enough to prove dangerous. Somebody took it before you came. Was it Douay? Or who?' 'That I know not,' said Plovey.
'Jaluba was in my quarters when I left to join my mother in conference,' said Sarazin. 'When I came back, she was gone. Where did she go to? Was she the thief? Was she your spy?' 'Jaluba,' said Plovey, tasting the name. He dabbed his mouth with a napkin, then said: 'Ah, I remember. Your whore in Voice. Later, a servant of the Sosostris woman. Am I thinking of the right person?' You are,' said Sarazin.
'Well,' said Plovey, 'I know nothing of her fate. She was certainly never one of my people, I assure you of that. Now, dear Sarazin, your one question has become three. Have you yet another? Or may we settle to the map?' 'Yes,' said Sarazin. 'We'll work on the map.'
Late at night, the map was finally finished. The next day, Plovey left Selzirk, taking with him servants, slaves, women (some in chains, others not), men at arms and half a dozen relatives. He left his house to Sean Sarazin, as he had promised.
And there Sean Sarazin stayed during the days that followed, with only Glambrax for company. The Swarms drew steadily nearer, and Selzirk steadily emptied as more and more of its people fled. Some hardy souls remained, thinking the Swarms would be delayed by the river.
Then came news that the Swarms were crossing over one of the dams to the east, and were building a bridge to span the river to the south. Then nearly all of the people who had stayed in the city ran for their lives.
But a few diehards stayed on, Sarazin and Glambrax among them.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Sarazin polished his ring of invisibility till its silver shone in the sun. He anointed his jade-green dragon- bearing bottle with oil and buffed it up. He sharpened his sword. He did some stretching exercises to free up his muscles.
He was ready for the greatest challenge of his life: to save Selzirk from the Swarms, which were at the gates of the city and were expected to break through those gates before sundown.
'I, Sean Kelebes Sarazin, known to the world of war as Watashi, dedicate this day to the salvation of Selzirk.'
So said Sarazin, who was safe from Glambrax's mockery since the hyperactive dwarf had been locked away in the highest room of Plovey's house.
Stern in resolution, he stepped to the street. And was not overly surprised when Glambrax fell in beside him. He was, neverthelss, curious. 'How did you get out?'
'Out?' said Glambrax. 'Out of what? I got from my mother's womb, I remember, by means of being dragged. Or is it something else you're interested in?' 'Never mind,' said Sarazin. 'Never mind.'
High noon in Selzirk. Sarazin released his ring of invisi- bility from its chain and put it in a pocket where it would be ready for instant use. If his dragons failed to defeat the Swarms, he might need that ring to survive.
The Swarms were without the gates, and those gates were groaning under the onslaught of the monsters. Some of the diehards who had remained in the city had sworn to stand and fight – but now they were turning and running.
'Hold fasti' cried Sarazin. 'I have magic herel Magic with which to save the city, the world.'
But all the people ran, and he was left alone. He was piqued to think there would be no witnesses to his heroism. Would that spoil the prophecy? And, even in the confusion of the moment, he still found time to wonder how his father's death came into it.
– But I decided that already, didn't I? He died in Shin. Didn't he? He was dead enough as far as I was concerned, even though he lived. So that satisfies the prophecy. Doesn't it? Please?
– But what if the prophecy's a lie anyway. Could it be? Do I die here, today? -Impossible.
For the magical snuff bottle in his left hand was the one the druid had given to him, the one which held a dread of dragons totally obedient to his command.
– But they will live only briefly. That's what the druid said. Will briefly be long enough? -It must be!
Wood graunched and ruptured. The gates shattered. Through the wreckage came a tunneller, a creature of the Swarms built like a sharp-pointed obelisk. Hundreds of multi-purpose limbs jutted from its body in every direction. Those which happened to be in contact with the ground were presently being used as its feet. The tunneller quested. Blindly. This way. That. Sarazin found himself trembling. -The bottle, man. The bottle!
His fingers stumbled over the polished jade. Grasped. Tugged. The top would not come out! 'Stuck!' he wailed.
A quick-limbed blue ant the size of a calf slipped past the tunneller and advanced on Sarazin, fighting mandibles clicking – 'snick snick snick!' – like castrating scissors from an Oedipal nightmare.
Then the top came – sclop! – out of the bottle. And up roared the dragons, billowing into the air with a rush of fumes and fury, filling the air with the smells of cin- namon and low-grade sulphur. Their wing-clap fury filled the sky. The creatures of the Swarms shrank back, retreating from the dragons.
Yes, there were nine of them.
And nine dragons made an army. It could not be doubted. They were the most dragonish dragons ever seen, fire-winged creatures each a hundred paces from head to tail, and they were his, they were his alone, so strong, so
