Inardle did not know Georgdi well, although as Axis’ second-in-command she’d always had a reasonable amount of contact with him.
Georgdi had shared that pit in Armat’s camp with her, Axis and Zeboath.
What Inardle did know of Georgdi she liked and trusted, and at least he did not look at her with eyes of judgement.
“Inardle, come down and talk to us —”
Inardle looked behind him, and saw the warier form of Insharah.
“Come down and talk to us, Inardle.”
Inardle had so nearly flown away that it was an almost impossible step for her to readjust her mentality to staying.
“Come down, Inardle.”
She twisted her head a little, looking once more to the sky.
“Please, Inardle.”
Now she sighed once again and, feeling more wretched than ever, slid down from the railing so she stood on the balcony floor. “What do you want, Georgdi?”
“Insharah and I would like to speak to you about what you said to Axis. That you could deliver him the Skraelings.”
“Does Axis know you are here?”
“Yes.”
“Yet he does not come.” Inardle felt even more wretched. She brushed past Georgdi and Insharah and walked into the room, sitting on a stool and spreading her wings behind her.
Both men followed her and sat on chairs. Georgdi still looked open and friendly, but Insharah looked more uncomfortable than ever.
“I will not bite, Insharah,” Inardle said. “And, surely, you and I have much in common . . . all this swapping about of allegiances and such.”
The two men were silent a moment, then both chuckled and the mood between the three relaxed. Even Inardle dared a small smile — that comment had been an enormous risk, but ultimately worth it.
“I think we are a tower of mismatched allegiances,” Insharah said. “I have never before met a more disparate grouping of loyalties, ambitions and races in one sad, besieged tower.”
“I am sorry for the way Axis has been treating you, Inardle,” Georgdi said.
She waved a hand, dismissing it.
“Georgdi says that you told Axis you could bring him the Skraelings,” Insharah said.
Inardle gave a very small smile. “I was furious with him.”
“Inardle,” said Georgdi, “can you bring him the Skraelings?”
“Do I want to?” Inardle said, then apologised. “Look, I am half Skraeling, something StarDrifter never fails to remind everyone, so I do have some kinship with them. On the other hand, the Skraelings have always disliked the Lealfast as we have tended to look down our long, long Icarii noses at them. I suspect the Skraelings also resent and hate the Lealfast for their alliance with the One. The Skraelings are jealous creatures and I think that they like to think themselves as the senior partners in any alliance with the One.”
“How does this help Axis?” Georgdi said.
Inardle considered a little before continuing. “They may be turned against the Lealfast.”
“To ally with Axis?” Insharah said. “They loathe Axis!”
Inardle now grinned. “They curse with his name! So, yes, this might be difficult — but hear me out. The Skraelings have ever looked for their own lord. They are servile creatures, and naturally gravitate to any who proclaims dominance over them in return for a homeland and lots of eating.”
“Thus Gorgrael so many years ago?” Insharah said, who had spent his youth listening to tales of Axis’ battles with his half-brother, the Lord of the Skraelings.
“Yes, as with Gorgrael,” Inardle said. “And as also with Kanubai, and later with the One. The Skraelings are habituated to servility —”
“But to Axis?” Georgdi said.
“Were not Kanubai and the One equally preposterous choices?” Inardle said. “I believe that all someone has to do to win the Skraelings’ loyalty is to offer them something bigger and better than their last master. That, coupled with their deep instinctive need to actually have a master — a Lord of the Skraelings — and even an ant with a deep enough promise bag and enough pretty tricks could win them over. It is worth a try, anyway. Better to have the Skraelings on our side rather than on someone else’s.”
Georgdi and Insharah exchanged a glance.
“But Axis?” Georgdi said once again.
“Is not the line between love and hate a thin one?” Inardle said. “Am I not enough example of that? One moment Axis’ favoured commander and the next his most reviled enemy. It swings back the other way as easily, believe it or not. Axis only has to offer them enough and they will suddenly proclaim Axis their new master.” She gave a chuckle. “Axis, Lord of the Skraelings.”
Both men smiled. The title did have a distinctive ring to it.
“Would Axis agree?” Insharah said.
Inardle shrugged.
“And what could he promise them?” Georgdi said.
“Axis would need to decide that,” Inardle said. “I am sure he could invent something.”
“We’ll take this back to Axis,” Georgdi said. “But I cannot promise that he will accept it.”
“Tell him he does not have much time,” Inardle said.
Georgdi frowned in question.
“The rest of the Lealfast Nation is undoubtedly on their way here,” Inardle said. “I am a little surprised they are not here already . . . but I can sense them approaching. They will be here by morning, and I doubt we can escape the cordon after their arrival. It must be tonight.”
“Wait,” said Georgdi. “I don’t follow. Who is this ’we’? And you will need to leave Elcho Falling?”
“No one can afford for the Skraelings to get to Elcho Falling,” said Inardle, “where we will have almost no chance at all of deflecting their current loyalties. No doubt Axis will need to tell them some solid lies in order to swing their love toward him. He won’t be able to do that with the Lealfast —” Strange, Inardle thought, how she spoke of her brethren as if they were no relation at all “— so close and able to disprove any artifice Axis comes up with. And as to the ’we’ — Axis and myself. Axis because he needs to be there to persuade the Skraelings to their new master, and I because . . . well, because the only way I can get Axis away from Elcho Falling is through the use of my Lealfast ability to invisible myself . . . I can take just one person with me and cloak them as well. I cannot take more than one. So it has to be Axis and myself only, and it must be soon, no later than tonight. Even then it will be a dangerous task to slip through the Lealfast cordon. Tell Axis this. He must decide if he wants to dare it, and whether or not the dare is worth the risk.
“But,” Inardle finished, “it might just save Isaiah.”
Chapter 5
The Outlands
The Skraelings had been approaching since dawn. Isaiah had expected a great wave of them to wash over the Isembaardians . . . but instead the Skraelings had crept closer and closer, never rushing, always cautious.
Now, at noon, there was an undulating wave of grey wraiths to the south, perhaps thirty paces from the edge of the juit birds, which had gathered in one great flock, putting themselves between the Skraelings and the Isembaardians.
Lamiah and Isaiah stood, surrounded by birds, at the southern edge of the flock, alternately looking south to the Skraelings or at the birds.
Isaiah was more concerned with the Skraelings, Lamiah with the birds.
“Do you think the juit birds might be any aid against the Skraelings?” Lamiah said.
Isaiah gave a small shrug. “Maybe.”
Lamiah looked at him then again at the birds.
As one they had fluffed out their pink feathers and were weaving their beaks to and fro toward the Skraelings. They looked very, very angry, and every so often each bird would hiss.
“Perhaps save us?” Lamiah said, then grunted dismissively. “I suppose they could fluff out their feathers and hiss and look very, very angry.”
Isaiah grinned. “Hasn’t your wife ever done that to you, and haven’t you backed down every single time she has done it?”
Lamiah chuckled. “But, seriously . . . ”
“But seriously,” Isaiah said, now returning his gaze to the distant line of Skraelings, “I have no idea what is happening. I wish Axis were here so he could advise us. I had thought the Skraelings might attack . . . what are they doing just gathering?”
“They look different to what I expected,” Lamiah said.
“They are different,” Isaiah said.
Very different. He had seen them in Isembaard, and they’d each had long thin limbs terminating in heavily clawed hands and feet, with the head of a jackal atop their grey, wraithlike bodies. Although many still looked like that, others had grown into half-wraith, half-great cat forms; others looked like the gryphons from the legendary tales of Tencendor and others had become all jackal; others still were misshapen lumps of creatures for which Isaiah could assign no descriptive name.