were no longer a delight. Despite his best efforts to keep a placid composure, he felt his eye membranes quiver and his stembrain stir from its slumber with discontent.
Astron shook his head in the manner of men. Why did all of her words now affect him so? Was there a residual effect from his transposition into Kestrel's body that he somehow still retained?
Before he could begin to sort out any of the confusion of his thoughts, he saw the first of Byron's men appear on the crest. The aleator had thrown sword and shield away and was running as fast as he could. Astron scowled and pushed the feelings away. They would have to be examined later. First there was the matter of the darling of destiny and passage to the grand casino.
Three more of Byron's minions crested the hill in full rout and then six after that. Immediately behind the last, tall, well-fed swordsmen with purple surcoats over close-knit mail came racing close behind.
Astron looked out across the trail as the first of Byron's men staggered past and then back to Nimbia to see if she was ready. The rest of Byron's followers sprinted down the path into the interior of the island with the first of Myra's aleators on their heels. Astron saw a half-dozen talismans dancing about the necks of those in the foreground. Gritting his teeth, he let them pass. A score of swordsmen sped by, shouting and laughing as they ran; then behind them came a half-dozen stragglers more, not so richly endowed as the rest.
Astron waited until the last three were just beginning to rush past the hidden rope. Then he jerked it tight and held it as firmly as he was able. The first aleator unexpectedly leaped over a small boulder jutting in the way and hurled clear of the trip rope, evidently not even noticing its presence. The other two, however, were caught just above their ankles and pitched forward onto the ground. Both landed gracefully on glove-protected hands; but more importantly, just as Astron had hoped, the talismans about their necks hurled free to land a few body lengths beyond.
'Now,' Astron shouted, 'now, Nimbia, while we have a chance.'
Nimbia sprang out onto the trail, her sword pointing the way. The two sprawled warriors rose to their feet; then their eyes widened in terror as she moved between them and their charms. Instantly they returned to their knees with hands spread wide, indicating surrender. One looked longingly at what lay a few feet away and began to sob.
Astron ran out behind Nimbia and scooped up the treasures. He flung them over his head and then turned after the third warrior who had stopped to see what was happening behind. Astron waved his sword with one hand while pointing at his own chest with the other. 'Not one standard issue but two,' he said. 'You do not have a chance.'
The third warrior froze. He unbuckled his sword and let it fall. Sagging on one knee, he bowed to the ground. Astron did not hesitate. He ran forward and, despite the small rocks that seemed to get in his way, pulled the third set of talismans away from their wearer.
'Over there.' He pointed his sword back to Nimbia. 'Do exactly as she says.'
Astron saw the man-at-arms nod in submission. Without waiting to ensure that he fully complied, Astron began running down the trail as fast as he could manage not to stumble. So far, everything was proceeding as he had hoped. The aleators were so conditioned to depending on luck in everything they did that, without their charms, they felt completely helpless. When confronted with an opponent better endowed, they gave up rather than attempt a fight.
Astron bounded down the trail, catching up with two more warriors who ran behind the rest. He tripped over a bared root in the trail and barely kept from falling. Circling his sword over his head, he froze his face in a beserker's stare, yelling an incoherent challenge. Over a dozen talismans now bounced from his chest as he ran, and the men-at-arms' eyes immediately focused on their dance.
Just as the others before, the two warriors immediately assumed postures of surrender, letting Astron snatch their charms with a clumsy swipe before they guessed his intent. More aleators looked backward, and a shout of warning coursed through their midst. The pursuit of Byron's followers slowed and then completely halted.
Byron's warriors sensed the slacking of pursuit and halted their own flight. With a rallying cheer, they turned and began to strike at the aleators who were looking over their shoulders at what was attacking their rear.
Astron yelled as fiendishly as he could and slashed blindly left and right. Aleators on both sides stepped backward, tumbling over one another and off the trail into the brush to get out of the way. One of Myra's captains in the vanguard caught sight of Astron's weight of treasure. He looked down at his own chest, barely ducked a swipe at the side of his head; then with a shudder, he bolted from the trail into the brush. Two more followed his lead, then a half-dozen more on the other side of the trail. In barely an instant, only five men-at-arms remained, all facedown-ward, offering their swords in surrender.
Astron pulled to a halt, barely believing what had happened. More than a score of well-armed warriors had been routed by a single foolhardy rush. Shaking his head, he grabbed the talismans that remained and added them to the rest. With stooping shoulders, he walked slowly back up the hill to see how Nimbia was faring in her stint at guard duty. For a moment he felt a rush of elation. He had performed as well as could have been expected of even a mighty djinn. But then, just as quickly, he put the thought aside. He was still a long way from securing any anvilwood. There was yet the rescue of Kestrel and Phoebe to be managed. The lightning djinns that pursued might discover them at any time. And Byron? If he had survived the rush down the slope, what more could be expected from the one who seemed to covet Nimbia more and more with each passing moment.
Astron scowled at the frustration born of the inactivity. His stembrain was becoming increasingly difficult to control. He looked about the evening campfire erected just down the seaward slope from the crest of the hill and shook his head. Byron sat on the other side of the dying flame, talking quietly with two of his lieutenants and one of the captured warriors, as if the day had been the same as any other. The bloodstained rags which bound the tall warrior's leg looked blotched with black in the dimness of evening. Felled by the first man he met, Byron had been left behind when his ranks broke and began retreating up the hill.
Then, when Astron and the others returned in triumph, the aleators that remained in Myra's ships all transferred onto a single barge and sailed away, leaving the other vessel behind. Evidently, she had reasoned that she was confronting a force much more powerful than her own and did not wish to suffer the same defeat. With the next dawn, Byron had said, his own band would follow the same course and be led by her luck directly to the grand casino.
Astron ran his hand over the skin of his neck. Reluctantly, after the abandoned ship and the prisoners had been secured, he had given up the talismans to be destroyed. His arguments about the men-at-arms who had run into the forest possibly returning were ignored. The luck had to be dissipated back into the ether. Byron had insisted. To do less would not be true to his quest.
Astron looked over at Nimbia on the far side of the clearing. At least for the moment, she was occupied with other thoughts than tending to the tall warrior. Instead, the queen was watching with interest the preparations of Sylvan and Centuron for the breaking of the charms.
Astron rose and stretched, trying to remove some of the tension that froze the muscles of his back into tight knots. He supposed he should investigate the dissipation process as well. There might be something to be learned that could be used later. Besides, it probably was the last chance to talk to the hill sovereign without Byron being in the vicinity. Tomorrow they would be confined together in the barge for the final journey across the sea; then once in the grand casino, from what little Astron had gleaned, there would be little time for anything other than struggling for survival.
As Astron approached, Nimbia was peering over Syl-van's shoulder and gesturing, while the aleator slowly stirred the contents of a small cauldron over a sputtering flame. Nearby a second fire was roaring fiercely as it consumed branches of dry pinewood that Byron's followers had faithfully carried with them from the beginning of their trek.
'I think I understand what you ask,' Sylvan said, 'but a more intense flame makes the film too fragile. The only purpose of the heat here is to thin the liquid to the proper consistency.'
'It looks like the sap of what we call the soapbark tree in the realm of fey,' Nimbia said to Astron as he drew near. 'Here the aleators tap the trunk and let it drip into waiting buckets.'
'The same is done for syrups in the realm of men, Astron answered as he fell into the mode of automatically translating.
'This is for a greater purpose than delighting the tongue,' Sylvan said. 'Without its protection, the risk of contamination is far too great.'
