The Hand of Zei

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Next morning a heavy overcast, a high fog that barely cleared the mastheads, confined Ferrian's fliers to their ship and reduced the effectiveness of long-range missile fire. By the leaden light it was seen that the besieged had erected bulwarks of timber, slotted for archery, around the outer rails of the ships forming the citadel. They had also rigged boarding nets and had fixed numbers of pikes with their points projecting outward, to aggravate the hazards facing the attackers.

After the usual delays, the trumpets sounded. Again the men advanced. Bows twanged, catapults thumped, swords clanged, and wounded men screamed.

By evening the allied forces had cleared the Sunqaruma out of all the outlying positions and had secured a precarious lodgment in the citadel itself. But again the cost had been heavy, and the Sunqaruma could by no means be deemed beaten.

The admirals, a couple of them nursing injuries, gathered for the post-mortem in a worse mood than ever, snapping at each other like crabs in a bucket. "Why supported you not my men when I signalled for help?"

"My lord Ferrian, what good are your damned idlers lounging on the Kumanisht while better men and women die among the spears?"

"Madam, should I use a scalpel to split kindling? One of my fliers is worth six common soldiers…"

"Where's the genius of the great General Snyol?"

"We should cease these vain assaults and starve the dastards out!"

"A cowardly counsel!"

"Who's a coward? I'll have your liver…"

Barnevelt was trying without much success to establish order when the sentry announced, "A boat from the Sunqaruma, my lords, seeking a parley."

"Send them in," said Barnevelt, glad of the interruption. If the enemy were softening up to the point of asking terms, the battle should soon be over.

Steps sounded outside. The sentry announced: "Gizil bad-Bashti, High Admiral of the Morya Sunqaruma!"

"Gizil the Saddler!" shrieked Queen Alvandi. "Recreant treacher! Just wait till I…"

"Vizqash!" said Barnevelt, for the small scar-faced fellow in the doorway was the Krishnan he had known off and on as Vizqash bad-Murani.

The man, wearing his lordly hidalgo manner, took off his helmet and made a mock bow. "Gizil bad-Bashti, otherwise Gizil the Saddler, otherwise Vizqash the Haberdasher, at your service," he rasped. "I greet my old acquaintance Snyol of Pleshch, otherwise Gozzan the Express-Courier, otherwise…"

He trailed off and sent a knowing grin at Barnevelt, who introduced him round and said, "Since when have you been chief of the Sunqaruma, Gizil?"

"Since the fourth hour today, when our former chief, Sheafase the Osirian, expired of an arrow wound received yesterday."

"Sheafase dead!" said Barnevelt, and exchanged a look of consternation with Tangaloa. If the Osirian chief no longer lived to cure Shtain of his affliction, there would have to be a radical alteration in their plans.

"Yes," continued Gizil-Vizqash. "Promotion has been swift, for grievous has been the loss among our chiefs. Gavao did perish in our raid on Ghulinde. Qorf and 'Urgan the mighty Snyol did slay when he snatched the princess from our grasp.

And even the Earthman, Igor Eshtain, who'd risen swiftly after his late enrollment in our company, was missing after the first day's battle. So—here am I, High Admiral.

"And speaking of the raid of Snyol upon our stronghold: In going through one of our provision ships in preparation for this siege, we found a youth asleep upon a sack of tunesta, clad as an expressman. Questioning revealed that he was the companion of your General Snyol, the suppositious Gozzan, on their foray. Becoming separated from his comrades, he'd hidden in this ship since then, subsisting on our stores. He says he's Zakkomir bad-Gurshmani, a ward of Qirib's throne. Be that the truth, Queen Alvandi?"

"It could be. What have you done with the boy?"

"Nought as yet. His safety answers for my own, in case you should by reasoning sophistical convince yourselves that faith need not be kept with such as we."

Barnevelt said dryly, "Interesting, but that's not why you came here. Are you surrendering?"

"Surrender?" Gizil's antennae rose. "A horrid word. I speak, rather, of honorable terms whereby this bloody conflict may be terminated."

"A pox upon this chaffering!" cried the Suruskando admiral. "Let's terminate him with a length of rope and press the attack with pitiless ferocity. They must be low on men or muniment, to offer terms."

"Wait," said Queen Alvandi. "You do forget, sir, they hold my sweet ward Zakkomir."

"What, you turning soft?" cried Ferrian. "You speaking for prudence and moderation, old battle-ax?"

Barnevelt broke in, "Say your say, Master Gizil."

"Let's consider our positions," resumed the pirate admiral unruffled. "By the grace of Da'vi you did rout our rescuers, the fleet of Dur. But it follows not they'll scamper all the distance to their stormy home. Rather is it likely that their admiral will think him of the loss of rank or head awaiting him at home and turn again for one more blow.

"Now, one need not be able to see through a plank of qong wood to know that you've had grievous losses in the last three days of combat, perhaps a quarter of your total force dead or disabled. Therefore I now expect, even if you set out at once on your return, you'd find many ships with oars but partly manned. Another day of this contention will find you in a parlous plight indeed.

"Then as to our situation. 'Tis true we are surrounded and, supposing Dur does not return, we must depend upon our own resources, while you can replenish and reinforce. It is also true that we've expended men and weapons. 'Tis even true that we've been driven from our outposts by that brainsome scheme of sending men across the weed with boards upon their feet. Who thought of that must be a very Qarar reincarnate.

"Still, by making use of cover, we have kept our losses small. As for weapons and missiles, we'd taken the precaution, in setting up our floating citadel, to include within it all supplies of such contrivances, and also ample food and water.

"Let us assume, to make your case most favorable, that you can in the long run overcome us. What then? Remember that your troops confront despairing men with nought to lose, and who will therefore fight to death—whilst yours, however brave, are not inflamed by such a desperate animus. This, combined with the advantage of a strong defensive stand, means that you will lose a pair or trio for every one of us you slay. You'll be lucky if such slaughter, in addition to bleeding your realms of their most stalwart battlers, do not to blank dissent and open mutiny incite them ere the siege be over.

"Then, what seek ye here? Queen Alvandi, we surmise, covets the Sunqar itself, and also her ward Zakkomir un-perforate. You others seek our treasury and fleet, and also wish to rid yourselves of the menace of our jolly rovers on the seas. Speak I not sooth? So if you can center the shai-han's eye without further bloodletting, were't not shear perversity and madness to refuse?"

"What are your terms?" asked Barnevelt.

"That all surviving Morya Sunqaruma, unharmed, be set ashore upon the mainland, each man to be allowed to take family and personal possessions, including cash and weapons."

Gizil looked narrowly at Barnevelt and chose his words with care. "Snyol of Pleshch is widely known as a man of most meticulous honor, a quality sadly lacking in these degenerate days. For that reason alone do we propose to place ourselves upon your mercy, for if the veritable Snyol avers he will protect us, we know he will."

Again that knowing look. Barnevelt realized Gizil was saying: Carry out your end of the bargain, as the real Snyol would, and I won't spill the beans about having known you at Novorecife as an Earthman. Smart gloop, Gizil-alias-Vizqash.

"Will you step out, sir?" said Barnevelt. "We'll discuss your offer."

When Gizil had withdrawn the admirals sounded off: " 'Twere a shame to let slip the prize when 'tis almost in our grasp…"

"Nay, the fellow has reason…"

"That stipulation about personal moneys will never do. What's to hinder them, when Gizil goes back, from dividing the entire treasury amongst 'em?"

"The same with their weapons…"

"They must be nearly spent. One good push…"

"We should at least demand the leaders' heads…"

After an hour's argument Barnevelt called for a vote, which proved a tie. The queen was now for peace, since the Sun-qaruma held Zakkomir.

"I say peace," said Barnevelt. "As for details…"

When Gizil was readmitted, Barnevelt told him they would take the terms with two exceptions: the Morya Sunqaruma might not take their money and weapons, and those originally from Qirib should be set ashore as far as possible from that land—say on the southeast shore of the Banjao. This last was at Alvandi's behest, as she did not want them to drift back to Qirib to make trouble.

Gizil grinned. "Her Altitude seems to think that, having once escaped her yoke, we wish to return thereunder. How-somever, I'll take your word to my council. Shall we prolong this truce until the matter be decided?"

So it was agreed, and out he went.