wizard to get to the point
Er-Rashal said, "You did well with the mummies. I didn't think you'd manage it.
Gordimer had more faith. I owe him twenty silver drachmas. Which you shouldn't
take to mean that I didn't pray that you'd be successful."
Else nodded again. "Good thing you weren't determined not to lose your money.
One miracle survival a mission is all I can manage."
"That's what I want to ask you about. What I've heard so far baffles me."
Else shrugged. "There isn't much to tell, really. We were threatened by
something that Az called a bogon. I did the only thing I could think of.
Everything came out right."
"Nevertheless... Your Master of Ghosts might have failed to notice
something."
Else told the story in detail. He was able to recall a lot because he knew he
would be questioned repeatedly. Gordimer, in particular, would be interested in
inimical supernatural manifestations around Sha-lug in the field. Especially
north of al-Qarn.
Er-Rashal asked, "Why did you load your falcon with coins?"
"I can't figure that out. I guess because I heard somewhere that night things
don't like silver. I do remember thinking that it wouldn't really work."
"Yet you never showed a doubt to your men."
So er-Rashal had talked to Hagid. "A good leader doesn't betray his doubts and
doesn't become confused or flustered. He has to do something, even if it's
wrong. When I had the falcon loaded with coins and gravel I was sure it was
pointless. But it kept the men calm and occupied. That was the whole point at
the time."
"You were lucky. Silver is a potent poison to some night things, but only a
few. Plain iron bothers more. You might consider taking along a sack of iron
pellets if you're on a mission where you think you might have that kind of
trouble."
"Now I'm wondering if there wasn't iron gravel in the stuff we put in the
cannon."
"How did the falcon itself perform?"
"Better than I expected. You finally found the right alloy, or the right cooling
process, or something. We couldn't find one flaw in the weapon afterward,
although we overcharged it."
The sorcerer indulged in a little preening. He had produced a portable cannon
that worked under combat conditions. No one had done that before.
"That's good news. I'll make more, now. I wish there was a practical way to
cast an iron tube."
Else observed, "Logically, iron would be better than brass."
"Absolutely. And iron is almost immune to the Tyranny of the Night We're hunting
ways to get around the difficulties. It's all trial and error, though."
"The firepowder needs improvement. It draws moisture. The damper it gets the
less power it has and the more noxious smoke it makes." Else exulted secretly.
He had diverted the thoughts of the smartest most dangerous man in the Kaifate.
"If it ignites at all."
If you got er-Rashal onto one of his obsessions and grunted in the right places
you were home free.
Else talked about firepowder weapons until the summons from Gordimer came.
ELSE WAS NOT AFRAID OF GORDIMER THE MAN. GORDIMER, THE grand marshal of the
Sha-lug, was another matter. Gordimer knew that. And was not pleased. Gordimer
preferred to be feared by everyone. Personally.
Else did not fear the man because he was pushing fifty. Else himself was a
hardened warrior in the prime of life.
When Else entered the presence with er-Rashal he accorded the warlord every
ounce of respect he was due. He would continue to do so, regardless. While the
marshal deserved that respect.
Gordimer the Lion was a tall, strong warrior risen so high he no longer
worked to maintain the marvelous attributes that had helped him become famous
when he was young. Else noted hints of fat and a sleepy droop of eye that
suggested excessive personal indulgence. Further, he noted the flash of a female
shape in gauze two steps slow in departing as he and the wizard arrived. Almost
certainly on purpose, as a reminder of Gordimer's power.
"Cut the crap," Gordimer told
Er-Rashal said, "You did well with the mummies. I didn't think you'd manage it.
Gordimer had more faith. I owe him twenty silver drachmas. Which you shouldn't
take to mean that I didn't pray that you'd be successful."
Else nodded again. "Good thing you weren't determined not to lose your money.
One miracle survival a mission is all I can manage."
"That's what I want to ask you about. What I've heard so far baffles me."
Else shrugged. "There isn't much to tell, really. We were threatened by
something that Az called a bogon. I did the only thing I could think of.
Everything came out right."
"Nevertheless... Your Master of Ghosts might have failed to notice
something."
Else told the story in detail. He was able to recall a lot because he knew he
would be questioned repeatedly. Gordimer, in particular, would be interested in
inimical supernatural manifestations around Sha-lug in the field. Especially
north of al-Qarn.
Er-Rashal asked, "Why did you load your falcon with coins?"
"I can't figure that out. I guess because I heard somewhere that night things
don't like silver. I do remember thinking that it wouldn't really work."
"Yet you never showed a doubt to your men."
So er-Rashal had talked to Hagid. "A good leader doesn't betray his doubts and
doesn't become confused or flustered. He has to do something, even if it's
wrong. When I had the falcon loaded with coins and gravel I was sure it was
pointless. But it kept the men calm and occupied. That was the whole point at
the time."
"You were lucky. Silver is a potent poison to some night things, but only a
few. Plain iron bothers more. You might consider taking along a sack of iron
pellets if you're on a mission where you think you might have that kind of
trouble."
"Now I'm wondering if there wasn't iron gravel in the stuff we put in the
cannon."
"How did the falcon itself perform?"
"Better than I expected. You finally found the right alloy, or the right cooling
process, or something. We couldn't find one flaw in the weapon afterward,
although we overcharged it."
The sorcerer indulged in a little preening. He had produced a portable cannon
that worked under combat conditions. No one had done that before.
"That's good news. I'll make more, now. I wish there was a practical way to
cast an iron tube."
Else observed, "Logically, iron would be better than brass."
"Absolutely. And iron is almost immune to the Tyranny of the Night We're hunting
ways to get around the difficulties. It's all trial and error, though."
"The firepowder needs improvement. It draws moisture. The damper it gets the
less power it has and the more noxious smoke it makes." Else exulted secretly.
He had diverted the thoughts of the smartest most dangerous man in the Kaifate.
"If it ignites at all."
If you got er-Rashal onto one of his obsessions and grunted in the right places
you were home free.
Else talked about firepowder weapons until the summons from Gordimer came.
ELSE WAS NOT AFRAID OF GORDIMER THE MAN. GORDIMER, THE grand marshal of the
Sha-lug, was another matter. Gordimer knew that. And was not pleased. Gordimer
preferred to be feared by everyone. Personally.
Else did not fear the man because he was pushing fifty. Else himself was a
hardened warrior in the prime of life.
When Else entered the presence with er-Rashal he accorded the warlord every
ounce of respect he was due. He would continue to do so, regardless. While the
marshal deserved that respect.
Gordimer the Lion was a tall, strong warrior risen so high he no longer
worked to maintain the marvelous attributes that had helped him become famous
when he was young. Else noted hints of fat and a sleepy droop of eye that
suggested excessive personal indulgence. Further, he noted the flash of a female
shape in gauze two steps slow in departing as he and the wizard arrived. Almost
certainly on purpose, as a reminder of Gordimer's power.
"Cut the crap," Gordimer told
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