第40节

ti and San'Louis had to be punished for their

renunciation of the Thrice-Gifted One and their betrayal of the

Plainfolk. And the dead-faces who had inspired their treachery had to

be taught a lesson they would never forget.

That was why the She-Kargo faction had to endure this costly and

ignominious withdrawal- to draw their enemies onto the killing

ground.

And the time was nigh...

Mr Snow surveyed the scene below him once more.

The leading ranks of the retreating column were now splashing across

the silted-up bed of a narrow access channel cut through the sandbar

close to the northern shore. Soon they would begin to pass through the

line of defenders at the base of the bluff.

To his right, the last of the baggage train were toiling up the slopes

under the weight of their loads. Their pursuers, the C'Natti, in their

tens of thousands, were on the far side of the river estuary, preparing

to cross the narrows.

Further back still, samurai horsemen moving over open ground between

the lines of Mutes were catching up with the leading warriors.

Mr Snow swung the viewing device back towards the lake.

The lead vessel of the Iron Master's flotilla had now drawn alongside

the stricken flank-boat. The third boat lay stationary in the water

some way behind the first two, a thin line of smoke curling lazily

upwards from its funnels. In the distance, the two remaining vessels

were beached below the trading post.

Handing the viewer to Awesome-Wells, a M'Call clan-elder and long-time

friend, Mr Snow closed his eyes, took a deep breath and steeled himself

fo what lay ahead. For over an hour he had watched the flower of the

She-Kargo and M'Waukee fall under the knives of the D'Troit, had

witnessed the bravery of Dark-Star and the other summoners. Now it was

time to put his own life on the line - and maybe lose it in attempting

to save the Plain folk.

He could not think of a better reason for having lived until this

moment.

Commending his spirit to Mo-Town, he stretched up his arms and silently

prayed to Talisman to grant him power over earth and sky.

Let me be your dark, avenging angel,t The earth shivered under his

feet. High above his head a dark cloud formed in the clear sky and

spread rapidly in all directions. A cry burst from his throat. A cry

so terrible, those around him fell to the ground, vainly trying to

cover their ears. Some who dared to look upon his face said afterwards

that his eyes became two points of blazing white fire.

Drawing the invisible power down from the sky and upwards from the

earth with sweeping movements of his hands, Mr Snow hurled it downwards

towards the lake, his fingers aiming at a point midway between the

northern and southern shore, some three miles beyond the sandbars.

Samurai-General Oshio Shinoda, on the bridge of his flag-ship, watched

the dark cloud form with growing disbelief. A distant rumble of

thunder seemed to come from within the bowels of the earth and was

followed by an answering peal from the darkening sky.

The lake became ominously still, with scarcely a ripple disturbing its

surface. The air had ceased to move. It was as if the whole world

was holding its breath.

As a soldier, Shinoda was without fear, but the inexplicable moods of

the kami who inhabited the natural world filled him with unreasoning

terror which - as supreme commander of the expedition - he had to do

his best to hide.

The spreading cloud blotted out the sun, casting a shadow across the

lake. The ground trembled bringing a hushed silence as the warring

Mutes paused uncertainly, pursued and pursuer united in their fear of

earth-thunder.

The Mutes in the defensive line at the foot of the bluffs were equally

alarmed but they, at least, had been warned about what was to follow.

Scrambling back up the slopes, they urged the panicky She-Kargo

warriors to follow them as fast as possible. Those now lined along the

top called down to their companions, urging them not to look back.

Whatever happened, they must keep climbing.