“You were probably too busy to notice Alexandros hanging about,” Lycon said. “He must have come on along with your runner when you sent him after me.” Something was oddly wrong here, but Lycon did not have time to think about it.
“That must be it,” Vonones agreed uneasily. “Want to take a look at the dogs? Like I said . . .”
Lycon shrugged. “They don’t have to be hunters; all animals seem to hate its scent—even the tiger went after its spoor. I just want enough dogs to make up several large packs—large enough that the lizard-ape can’t just turn and kill a few hounds and then disappear again. We’ll split into groups if we lose its trail, but we’ll keep the groups big enough to deal with the thing once it’s run to earth.
“We’ll need plenty of lights for each potential group—five packs, would you say? Then we’ll need nets and ropes—too close quarters for lassos, more’s the pity. Archers won’t be much use for the same reason, but short swords and boar spears—anything for close work will do. If we can track it, we can catch it, and once we manage to ensnare the lizard-ape, we can finish it.”
“Capture it,” Vonones emphasized urgently. Quiet!” he added. “Here comes N’Sumu.”
“Let’s get busy then.”
The dogs were nothing to brag about, but they would do. They would have to do. He was gambling on the likelihood that the lizard-ape would wait for nightfall to quit the sewers—it needed the darkness to cloak its movements, after all. With enough dogs and men he could track it down below—no matter how fast it fled, no matter how many side tunnels it tried to hide within. The lizard-ape was fast, but once cornered by the dogs, a dozen men with nets and weapons would prove more than its match at close quarters. Or so Lycon hoped.
“Was that your boy?” N’Sumu joined them. He seemed to be in high good spirits, which grated on the overstretched nerves of Lycon and Vonones. “What a lovely lad. You must be very proud, Lycon.”
Was there a threat behind the kind words? Really, there was no doubt, whether the Egyptian meant to express it or not. Lycon said: “Alexandros isn’t coming along with us on this. I’m sending him home.”
“No need. He was on his way out as I arrived.” N’Sumu smiled. If the Egyptian was trying to be pleasant after this morning’s show of force, Lycon decided he preferred him angry.
“Well,” said Lycon, “we’re all here. Let’s get on with it.”
“Got wagons to haul everything,” Vonones told him, justifiably proud of the degree of organization he had managed. “Be lucky if we don’t have a dead dog or two by the time we pick up the trail. I’ve tried to keep these packs separated as best I could, but most of the dogs have never worked together—they’re still busy sniffing asses and sorting one another out.”
“Never mind, Vonones,” Lycon reassured him. “They’re good enough to go after the lizard-ape’s scent. You know damn well that most of them will be dead meat once they find the thing.” As we may well be.
Chapter Twenty-one
It was dark, dank and stank, but the dogs had no problem in picking up the lizard-ape’s scent. The major difficulty had been in holding the first group in check while the rest of the dogs were lowered into the sewer from the street above. It quickly became apparent to Lycon that the sheer number of men and hounds were going to pose a problem at the onset of the chase. He reluctantly gave the order for one group to remain at the entrance to the catch basin. They would only get in the way, and Lycon had a better use for their pack.
“Release these.” The beastcatcher pointed to one mass of straining hounds.
“We’ll never be able to keep up,” N’Sumu protested, not unreasonably. The Egyptian was studying the brick arches of the sewer, seemingly oblivious of the stench of the filthy water that coursed sluggishly along its channel. He seemed also oblivious of the fact that he was out of reach of decent lantern light. Lycon thought about N’Sumu’s strange eyes, then pushed that thought aside.