The Purple Emperor

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

Mr Fogarty opened his eyes. He had a premonition something was wrong seconds before it happened. But when it happened, he didn't realise just at first that it was happening.

Through the window of the ouklo he could see one of the outriders – a big, burly man with a habit of pulling close to the carriage and staring in, as if to make sure Prince Pyrgus and his little party were still inside. He was doing that now, and as he caught Mr Fogarty's eye, he gave a broad, unpleasant smile.

Then he disappeared. One second he was there astride his floater pod, the next he vas gone. Fogarty moved in his seat. The rider less pod was still there, pacing the ouklo perhaps four feet above the ground. Then, devoid of any hand at the controls, it veered away wildly, following an erratic course. There were shouts, barked orders and a single scream.

'We're under attack,' Fogarty said Quietly.

Pyrgus, who had been deep in conversation with Blue, broke off and stood up. He graphed the window of the ouklo as if to open it.

'Pyrgus!' Blue shouted in warning.

'Might be an idea to keep away fro 1 the window,' Fogarty said.

But the window was open now and Pyrgus had his head out. There was another scream and another pod overtook the carriage, tumbling fore over aft, with no sign of its rider. 'You're right,' Pyrgus said. He pulled his head back like a turtle. 'Any ideas?'

'You can start by closing the window,' Fogarty said drily. 'Are either of you armed?'

'Ceremonial dagger,' Pyrgus murmured, pushing the window back up.

I have a steen,' Blue said a little sheepishly.

Mr Fogarty glanced at her admiringly. 'That's what I call firepower. Surprised you didn't use it on Prince Comma.'

Blue grinned at him.

Mr Fogarty said, 'Any idea who might be behind the attack?'

'Hairstreak?' Pyrgus ventured.

'That would be my guess. You know him better than I do – what's his style?'

'Stealth. Surprise. Likes to outnumber the enemy, but will rely more on speed than weight of numbers.'

'It's him all right,' Fogarty said, looking past Pyrgus through the window. 'They're using unmarked foo discs. Think he wants to kill us?'

'Yes,' Blue said simply.

'Then we'd better try to disappoint him. Did you notice how many were flying this carriage?'

'Just a footman,' Pyrgus said. 'The spell's set to take us direct to Haleklind – it's a known route. Not much for the driver to do but admire the scenery. The outriders are there to make sure we don't jump out.'

'The outriders look pretty busy to me – those that are left,' Mr Fogarty said. 'Think you can tackle the footman? Do it myself except I'm getting a bit old to climb out of moving carriages.'

Pyrgus nodded.

'I think we'll hold back on the steen,' Mr Fogarty said to Blue, smiling a little. She grinned at him again. Used inside the carriage, a steen would have killed them all. Even used above on the coachman, it could have caused them considerable damage.

Pyrgus said, 'We won't outrun them even if we get control. Not in an ouklo.'

'Send it over open water,' Fogarty said shortly. 'Foo discs can't handle open water. Isn't there a lake around here somewhere?'

'Think so,' Pyrgus nodded. He glanced round at the sound of a loud crash outside.

'Use the window,' Fogarty said. Then, as Pyrgus moved, 'The other one – too much action that side.'

Pyrgus moved fast. He pulled down the window and swung out in a single movement.

'Good luck,' Blue whispered.

It was a war zone outside. A huge fight was going on between the ouklo escort and a band of green-uniformed attackers. The air was full of elf-bolts, humming like enraged bees. Pyrgus flattened himself against the side of the ouklo, then pulled himself up on to the roof, keeping his head low.

The driving cabin of the ouklo was an ornate affair set near the front of the carriage. It was high-backed with ceremonial wings so that the driver had no chance of spotting Pyrgus as he crawled along the roof behind him. But at the same time, both back and wings were reinforced with adamantine silver so the man was safe from any attack except a frontal assault. To reach him, Pyrgus would have to climb over the top of the cabin, then drop down. He didn't want to kill the man – he was a palace servant, after all, and only doing his duty – so he would have to wrestle him out of the control seat and, hopefully, push him off the carriage altogether. None of it was going to be easy.

An elf-bolt shaved skin off his earlobe.

Pyrgus moved. The less time he spent exposed like this, the safer he would be. Bent double, he ran along the roof of the carriage and scrambled on top of the cabin. To his right he could see a pod rider locked in a vicious, hacking swordfight with one of the green attackers on a foo disc. They swung close to the ouklo itself, which reacted by jerking away from the weapons as its security system cut in. Pyrgus was half thrown from the cabin, but managed to grip the roof felt with his fingernails. For a moment he was convinced he was going to fall, but somehow pulled himself back. In a moment more, he was dropping down at the front of the cabin, ready to grab the driver.

The driver was dead. He sat in the control seat, eyes wide and staring, a trickle of blood dribbling from the left side of his mouth. There was no obvious wound, but the expression on his face was one of intense surprise.

For a moment Pyrgus couldn't quite take it in, but the man was dead all right. There was nothing Pyrgus could do for him now and he had to get the ouklo away from the fight. He grabbed the man's arms and tried to pull the body from its seat. The head seemed to be stuck to the back of the chair.

It was an elf-bolt! It had penetrated the back of the cabin and skewered the driver from behind. But it was impossible for an elf-bolt – or anything else for that matter – to penetrate adamantine silver. The material was spell-woven to resist attack in any form. Pyrgus jerked the body and the head came away, tearing the elf-bolt with it. Pyrgus muttered an apology, then pushed the corpse off the ouklo and slammed himself into the driver's seat.

There were no controls. The ouklo responded to spoken commands from anyone in the driving seat so long as he first gave the password. Fortunately the password for all ceremonial ouklos was the same and Pyrgus knew it – it was the name of his paternal grandfather, a beloved Emperor now long dead. 'Dispar,' he murmured, then, 'Turn right!'

The ouklo maintained its course as if he hadn't spoken.

'Dispart' Pyrgus said again, then swore quietly. Comma had changed the password! Of course he had, the sneaky little twit. This ouklo was headed for Haleklind by the shortest route and nothing in the Realm was going to stop it. What now? What to do now?

There was a brake word for the ouklo. He was sure of it. It didn't give you control of the vehicle, but it stopped you in an emergency. And it was built into the fabric of the carriage, so it couldn't be changed. He glanced round the edge of the cabin and a thrown knife missed him by inches. Fierce fighting was still underway. If he stopped the carriage now, two things would happen. The first was that both pods and foo discs would sweep past as they continued their aerial battle. The second was that Blue, Mr Fogarty and he could make a break for it on foot. They were passing through wild terrain with plenty of hiding places. In the confusion there was a chance – maybe even a good chance – they might get away.

What was the brake word? He couldn't remember the brake word!

There was a scraping sound behind him. Pyrgus looked round the edge of the cabin again to discover that one of Hairstreak's green-uniformed men had jumped from his foo disc and clambered on to the roof of the ouklo. He was on his feet now and making his way carefully towards Pyrgus.

If Pyrgus was reluctant to harm palace staff, he had no such reservations about Hairstreak's men. He grabbed the dagger from his belt, clambered out of the cabin and threw himself on his attacker.

His attacker was a girl!

Pyrgus was so surprised he almost dropped the dagger. The green-uniformed soldier was a slender girl and a pretty one at that. He hadn't known Hairstreak used girls in his military. He had gripped her jerkin and his dagger was raised to strike, but she had beautiful violet eyes. He was still admiring them when she kneed him between the legs.

The pain was unbelievable. Pyrgus felt the dagger slipping from his nerveless hands and knew he had to hold it, had to hold his attacker, knew he was dead if he didn't somehow dispatch this soldier and dispatch her fast. He knew what he had to do, but what he did do was drop the dagger and fold forward with a howl of agony.

The girl pressed a neat little weapon wand behind his left ear and Pyrgus tumbled into darkness.