The Engineer ReConditioned Part 22

"There has never been the need," replied Dagon. "The established mines supply all the demand there is." He looked at Cheydar. "If they did mine in the Wilder that would bring the Proctors back and believe me, that's the last thing the priesthood wants. They have no wish to appear in any way powerless."

The main building of the coachhouse was ringed with a low veranda on which priest soldiers lolled and inspected pa.s.sers by. Dagon and Cheydar ignored them as they mounted the steps and went in through the main door. Within, a fat bald official sat at a desk sorting through sheaves of paper. He glanced at them over half-moon gla.s.ses and continued with his work until Dagon, as agreed, walked up and addressed him.

"The Lady Vemeer requires a coach to take her North," he said, and dropped a bag of metal money on the table. Cheydar contained his surprise; that hadn't been in the game plan.

The official delicately pulled at the strings of the bag and opened it. His eyes widened at what he saw inside and with a glance to the door he quickly slid it across his desk and dropped it in his lap.

"We are in a hurry, a Metrarch awaits her presence."

"The gold phaeton would be best. I will take you to it." He slid the money into a pocket, picked up some forms from a stack beside him and led the way to the door. Once outside he turned away from the priest soldiers and led the way around the side of the building. The soldiers inspected the trio with expected suspicion, but did nothing.

"Will you be requiring a driver?"

"No."

"Ah."

They shortly came to a man who sat on the edge of a water trough while watching some girls work at cleaning out the huge stables. The man looked bored. He held a short whip in one hand and was methodically slapping it against his leg. To one side, in a compound with fences five feet tall and made of tree trunks, a male t.i.tanothere ate from a huge basket fixed to the stable wall. The grey hide behind its head was goad-scarred and there were calluses on its sloping back and sagging belly, from the cart straps. A couple of the fist-shaped horns on its head had been broken off, probably in mating fights, and its small piggy eyes regarded the world with seeming indifference. It flicked warble flies away from its huge rump with an inadequate tail, twitched its mussel-sh.e.l.l ears. When it leaned its many tons against the fence the tree trunks bowed and looked as if they might break.

"Feruth, the gold phaeton, how quickly can you have it ready?"

The man pushed himself upright and gave Cheydar and Dagon a probing look. "What's the hurry?"

"A lady visiting a Metrarch," said the official.

"Ah." The man made no move until the official tapped his pocket and the clink of money could be heard. He grinned, nodded. "I'll have it ready in a couple of hours." He moved off.

The official turned away from him to Cheydar and Dagon. He met Cheydar's look. "Yes, I know; shocking isn't it?"

Dagon said, "You'll send for us when the coach is ready?"

"Yes. Where will you be?"

"The tavern. The lady waits there now. We shall have a meal there and hope to hear from you soon after?"

"So it will be."

The official gave a little bow to them and they moved off.

"They have no honour, these people," said Cheydar, after a moment.

"Money and power command respect. There are few people who can even be true to themselves. You should have realised that long ago."

"You are cynical, Dagon."

"I see things as they are."

"You believe so?"

"Unfortunately, I know so."

Cheydar allowed that to sink in for a moment then said, "The money, did Suen give it to you?"

"It was my own."

"You shall be reimbursed."

Cheydar just caught the quickly repressed smile.

The tavern was similar in construction to the coach house; red brick and sagging, ringed with wooden verandas. The areas around the buildings were dry, as was the slabbed road. The verandas around most buildings were an indication that later in the year the combination of rain and traffic would turn the bald ground to a quagmire. Dagon stepped up onto the veranda first, and while waiting behind him, Cheydar glanced back the way they had come. That the priest soldiers from the coach house had followed them he gave no indication until he was inside the building.

"We have company, five of them," he said.

"I know."

"What would you suggest? You seem more able at subterfuge than myself."

"I feel that should they seek identification from us subterfuge will be wasted."

"Even if we kill them all here, others will come after us riding t.i.tanotheres and catch us on the road."

"I will think of something," said Dagon.

The room beyond the door was like a thousand other rooms of taverns. Suen and the rest sat at a long table, sipping at goblets of orange wine while a young man laid out food for them. Cheydar noted with approval that his sons, though staring at the food wide-eyed, were waiting for Suen to break bread and offer them a piece. Ritual; the lady feeding her bondsmen.

"Go and join them. I will go to the bar."

Cheydar made to obey then stopped himself. "You give commands very easily," he said, his face grim.

"Now is not the time, Cheydar. I can get us out of this."

"You are isolating yourself."

"Yes."

"Why?"

At that moment the five priest soldiers came in through the door. Cheydar met Dagon's look only for a moment then went and sat with Suen. From there he watched Dagon walk to the bar, a sudden arrogance in his walk, contempt in the glance he threw at the soldiers. The soldiers gazed around the tavern then followed him.

"What is happening?" asked Suen.

"I don't ... " Cheydar stared, then realised. Of course. He cursed then turned to Suen. "I think he's going to force a duel. Even priest soldiers stick to some of the Code."

"What do you mean?"

"Win or lose the rest of them will not hara.s.s us, not immediately. One night must pa.s.s between blood-lettings else duel will degenerate into open brawl or battle."

"Can we be sure of that?"

"With them, no, Lady. It is the best chance we have, though."

At the bar there was a sudden altercation. Dagon shoved one of the soldiers back.

"Be prepared to stand by your words!" he shouted, as if angry and very offended. Cheydar noted that he had picked on the officer. He aimed to behead, perhaps literally. The officer regained his balance and said something more. Dagon struck him back handed across the face then stepped to one side as another of the men made a grab for him. His sword was an arc of light between. One of the men stumbled back holding his forearm. The others kept out of the way. Cheydar was on his feet, with his air gun in his hand, and coming up beside Dagon in a moment. His sons were behind him. Dagon glanced at him.

"This sc.u.m offers insult to our Lady," he said with vehemence. Cheydar thought he acted the part well. He looked to the officer, whose eyes never wavered from the tip of Dagon's sword. Though his hand was at the short sword in his belt, he made no move to draw it.

"This sc.u.m should be made to pay, then," said Cheydar.

The officer watched. He was thin-faced and had the wiry toughness of a trained fighter. He did not draw. He knew his chances. Dagon stepped forward a little way and ritualistically spat on his boots.

"My choice, then," said the officer. This was what he was waiting for, Cheydar realised. "The time I chose is one hour from now, the place I chose is the street outside, and I chose air guns as the weapons of combat."

Cheydar nodded to himself; a sensible choice. Dagon had demonstrated his speed with the sword.

"So be it," said Dagon, and sheathed his sword in one smooth motion. As he did this hands strayed to the hilts of short swords. Cheydar smiled and raised the barrel of his gun. Hands drew back. Dagon nodded and stepped past him. They moved to the table where Dagon dispensed with his swords and took up his gun. The priest soldiers tramped from the tavern. Cheydar saw that Eric was grinning.

"What amuses you, boy?" he asked.

"Dagon's weapon - it has five shots. It is a repeater."

Cheydar nodded in confirmation when he saw the weapon, then he felt misgivings.

"You and David, keep your weapons ga.s.sed and cover the others. There may be some objection." Cheydar knew that in air gun duels it was often not the first shot that counted and that the winner was he who could reload the fastest and have more time to aim for the second shot. Dagon would not have to reload and could probably fire off all four of his remaining shots while the officer reloaded. The officer's men might consider this an infraction of the rules.

The sun was poised above the coach house and Linx was making its second daily journey across the sky, but this time was partially in silhouette and looked like a hole punched there. Dagon walked out across the worn ground and stood midway between the coach house and a t.i.tanothere fence. The fat official from the coach house stood a few yards to one side of him and fidgeted nervously; adjudicators were often shot by accident and he had not wanted the task. From where he stood Cheydar directed Eric and David to move away from him to the far ends of the veranda and be ready. He noted that over by the other end of the coach house a three-wheeled phaeton was being hitched to the backs of two patient cud-chewing t.i.tanotheres. Perhaps they could get this over with and be quickly on their way. He turned his attention to the right as the officer stepped out of a building just beyond the coach house and began walking towards Dagon. Six other priest soldiers walked out behind him and moved off in different directions. That could be taken two ways, either they were setting themselves for attack, or they were just covering their officer's back. The officer walked, his air gun held one-handed at his side, until he came face to face with Dagon. The fat official approached.

"Standard procedure," he said distastefully. "Stand back to back with your weapons held as you wish, then start walking at my count. I will count to ten then shout 'now'. You turn and fire at that shout, not before." He backed away quickly as Dagon and the officer turned their backs to each other. "One, two, three ... " The count seemed to take no time at all. He reached ten and the officer turned and fired. Dagon staggered forward. "b.a.s.t.a.r.d," said Cheydar. There had been no 'now' and the official was unlikely to object. There was a silence as Dagon regained his balance. The officer dropped his expended cylinder and was putting in a new dart when Dagon turned, and holding his gun one-handed up to his shoulder, took careful aim, and fired. The dart cracked against the officer's gun and ricocheted up into his jaw. He stepped back making a keening sound, his cheek hanging off in a flap and his side teeth exposed in a b.l.o.o.d.y grin. He put another cylinder in his gun. Dagon fired again and there was the hollow fleshy thump indicative of a chest hit. The officer keeled over and lay coughing blood. Dagon walked up to him, watched him for a moment, then walked towards Cheydar. Cheydar watched the soldiers, then glanced aside as the official stepped up to him.

"Your phaeton is ready," he said, his face deliberately clear of expression. "I suggest you get in it now and leave."

Cheydar nodded in agreement and turned his attention to Dagon.

"Are you hit?"

"Yes."

Cheydar looked at his left arm. Blood was trickling from his fingertips. "How bad?"

"The bone is broken. The dart is still in me."

Cheydar nodded to the interior of the tavern. "We will deal with it now."

"It would be better if we left," said Dagon.

"Don't be foolish. If there is to be a fight later on today or tomorrow I do not want you weak from blood loss. We deal with it now."

Dagon looked at him with evident surprise then smiled. "You are right. You are absolutely right," he said.

Cheydar wondered why he took such delight in being wrong, but dispelled the thought when Dagon staggered as they entered the tavern and he stepped to support him. Suen rushed to help once they were inside.

"Sheda, get my things," she said. They sat Dagon in a chair and Eric stood guard at the door. "Sheda! d.a.m.n, where is that girl?" Cheydar looked around then continued to cut away Dagon's s.h.i.+rt. He took a look at the wound then went to his own pack and removed a field-surgery kit. Suen walked to a back door and looked out. "Sheda!" Cheydar put a tourniquet around the top of Dagon's arm then tossed powder on the split below.

"That should deaden it some," he said. "I have to get the dart out." He cleaned a pair of surgical pliers in alcohol and a pair of spatulas that he handed to Suen. "When I say, hold open the wound with these." They waited a short time until the powder did its work, then at Cheydar's instruction Suen pushed the spatulas into the split and opened it wide. The dart was imbedded in broken bone. Cheydar got the pliers on it, but had to shove his fingers in the wound so one end of the break did not get pulled out as he tugged at the dart. Dagon turned to look at him with a sickly grin on his face, then he fainted. Cheydar st.i.tched his wound and splinted his arm while he lay unconscious on the floor.

"Now we have to get him to the phaeton. Where is David?" Cheydar turned to Eric, who looked momentarily guilty before removing a fold of paper from his tunic and handing it over. Cheydar unfolded the note and read it. He was angry for a moment then guilty to feel relieved. He handed the note to Suen. She read the note then suddenly looked very angry. Cheydar waited for the explosion, as Dagon regained consciousness and struggled to sit upright. Cheydar squatted to help him.

"What's going on?" Dagon asked Suen.

"David and Sheda have gone. They've taken or are taking a barge to Elmarch."

"We have time to stop them," said Suen, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up the note.

"Why?" asked Dagon.

"Why!" Suen all but screeched. "She is my daughter. She is just a little girl!"

Dagon gave her such a look of contempt it was almost a blow. She stepped back. "That little girl has been lying with David since I joined you, and probably long before. She's found love, or infatuation if you will, and you want her at your side to go and die with you below a death post."

"I am not going to die," said Suen, quietly, almost whispering.

"Then you can find them in Elmarch sometime after. They will be safer there." Dagon staggered to his feet. Suen stared at him, probably knowing him to be right but loath to agree. She turned away as Cheydar and Eric began to collect up their things.

"I blame you for this," she snarled at Cheydar. He nodded acquiescence and continued with what he was doing. Suen abruptly sat down and began crying into her hands. Cheydar reached out to touch her shoulder and she knocked his hand away. As they loaded the phaeton she made no objection. She boarded without a word.

It took four days to reach the last coach house before North wood and during the four stops on the way for the feeding of the t.i.tanothere they mostly stayed inside the capacious phaeton and ate cold food. For a day Dagon ran a fever, but this was quickly dealt with by drugs bought at their first stop. No one followed. Perhaps the soldiers were embarra.s.sed by the cowardly duelling tactics of their officer, or frightened by the way he was dispatched. At the last coach house they bought supplies and set out afoot along one of the many paths into the Wilder.

"Perhaps we should have hired a guide," said Cheydar as the trees closed around them. He preferred to be out in the open. Too much that was unexpected could come upon them in this place. There were dangerous creatures in the Wilder and dangerous men. He unhooked his airgun, dart pack and blades, and handed them to Eric to free himself of iron before checking their course. He laid the compa.s.s on the map, turned the map, grunted his satisfaction then put map and compa.s.s away. His son returned to him his weapons. They continued.

"We'll be at the coast by the evening," said Cheydar. No-one felt inclined to reply to him. The forest brought its own silence that it seemed should not be disturbed by rude human chatter. Suen had had very little to say since her daughter had run away. Perhaps, Cheydar thought, she was beginning to realise what was most important. He had. He was glad David had gone and only sad that Eric had not gone with him. The two of them had not yet sworn any oath to Tarrin's family and it was not necessary for them to serve to the limit; death.

They walked all morning and most of the afternoon through thick deciduous woodland. Great oaks, chestnuts, nettle elms, and the like, towering all around them. The nettle elms were bare, but the oaks still held onto the Autumn leaves other trees were in the process of shedding. The ground was swamped with leaves in shades of red and gold, and every breeze brought more of them kiting down. Through this colourful layer pushed fungi in bright poisonous colours and colours the same as the leaves. Dagon collected some of the latter in a cloth bag he hung at his belt. Eric and Cheydar, not knowing which fungi might be edible confined themselves to picking up sweet chestnuts, and walnuts. Suen just tramped along.

"Let us take a break now," said Cheydar, in the afternoon. "The last four days have been wearing. Here at least we can relax some. Here." He gestured to an area clear of briers below an ancient walnut tree. Suen nodded to him and slumped down on a pile of leaves by the trunk. "Take yourself off," said Cheydar to Eric, while looking at his mistress. "Bring us some fresh meat. I'll light the fire." Dagon and Cheydar cleared a s.p.a.ce in the leaves and collected together a pile of the ample fallen wood. Cheydar waved Dagon away as he built a fire. Dagon went to sit by Suen.

"You have to let them go some time," the warrior said.

Cheydar glanced over, seeing Suen looking up at the tree from where she lay with her cropped golden hair on the leaves, blending with them. He felt something twist in his stomach; concentrated on the conversation.

"I don't need your comfort," she told Dagon.

"But you do, and I think it would comfort you to know that David carries with him enough money for them both to live in comfort in Elmarch for a year or even more." He looked at her with mild eyes.

She sat upright."You?"

"I gave him the money."

"You knew then," she said, angry now.