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He did not add that the northern road was probably where the rebellious Lord would reveal his hostage-Princess Linnora-at a moment well chosen to strike at the defenders' morale.

When that moment came, they would need their best leaders to rally the men for the struggle of their lives. Old men, competent tacticians, could handle the delay along the eastern tributaries, especially when the balloon corps was ready to make its sally. But it would take sharp young fighters, such as Pro1l and Demsen, to give their soldiers heart, to adapt, to recover, and to continue harrying Kremer's northmen.

For once, Proll seemed to understand. The young man did not complain. He merely nodded and resumed pacing near the doorway, awaiting news.

At last Linsee spoke again. "Send for Stivyung," he told an aide. "I must know at last if his project is going to bear fruit in time."

9 "Who the h.e.l.l are you guys? Let go of me! What do you think you're doing? Where are you taking me?"



The guards held the tall foreigner tightly and dragged him over to where the scholar Hoss'k waited in his red robes, sitting below the trees on a hundred-year-old portable chair.

The sandy-haired alien looked Hoss'k up and down. He straightened his shoulders. "Are you the grand high potentate around here? You'd better tell me what's going on! Never mind what you did with Nuel. . .I want to know what you did to our zievatron!"

"Be silent," Hoss'k said.

The foreigner blinked. He reared back. "Listen, fatso, I'm Dr. B.

Brady, of the Sahara Inst.i.tute of Technology. I am a representative of Dr. Marcel Flaster, who happens to be-"

There was a loud thump as the alien hit the ground, knocked flat by the burly backhand of one of the guards. "The scholar said to be silent!"

The fellow rolled over slowly and looked up, blearily. He did not open his mouth again.

Hoss'k smiled in satisfaction. This one would indeed turn out to be more tractable than Dennis Nuel had been. His bl.u.s.ter meant he had few internal reserves and would bend quickly once shown the way of things. He already showed the signs.

Apparently the guard had used too much force, though. The foreigner was slow to become lucid again.

No matter, Hoss'k thought. By the time we are on our way back again, the high pa.s.ses will be filled with my Lord's troops. I'd rather make a procession past them, with my new prize, than journey down that silent, eerily empty road one more time.

10 "Are they gone yet?"

Linnora turned and went "Sshhh!" at Arth, who ducked quickly back under the bushes and was quiet.

Dennis watched anxiously as the Princess peered through the underbrush at the side of the road. The dust of the last of the cavalrymen settled slowly.

She had insisted on being the lookout. Dennis wasn't too happy about it, but he had to admit that she was right. The job didn't put much strain on her feet, and she was less exhausted than the two men. Besides, Dennis had witnessed few things more remarkable than the girl's eyesight.

He lay back on the dry sticks and needles beside the little cart. They had pushed the wagon into this thicket fifteen minutes before. It had been just in time, as the lead elements of Kremer's cavalry pounded around the rim of the mountain only moments later.

He and Arth had fallen to the ground exhausted, hardly noticing the apparently endless procession of hors.e.m.e.n who galloped past. It was only in the past few moments that the roar in Dennis's ears-and the laboring of his lungs-had quieted enough for him to hear anything at all.

Dennis felt a sharp tug on his sleeve. He turned his head and saw the robot standing only inches away. It had nudged him with one manipulator arm. Its red "attention" light flashed.

Dennis rose onto one elbow and looked at the small line of text that appeared on the machine's little screen.

"Oh, h.e.l.l. Not now!" he told it.

The thing still wanted to fulfill the very first function he had given it-to report what it had found out about the inhabitants of this world.

No doubt it had discovered a lot, but now certainly wasn't the time for a debriefing!

He patted the little robot on its turret. "Later, I promise, I'll listen to everything you have to tell me."

The machine's lights winked in response.

"Okay," Linnora said. She used the Earth term she had picked up from Arth. "The last of the hors.e.m.e.n are gone. From what we saw on high, they cannot be followed closer than an hour by any other forces, even more cavalry."

"All right," Dennis said, groaning as he sat up. "We chance the road again."

It was the only way deeper into the mountains. And deeper to the south they had to go if they were to arrive in time to do the beleaguered L'Toff any good.

Dennis stood up and held out his arm. The pixolet swooped down from its vantage point on a branch overhead, from which it had watched the cavalcade of hors.e.m.e.n. Grinning, it seemed to think the episode a wonderful joke.

Of course, they never would have made it this far without Pix and the 'bot.

This forest thicket in which they had hidden had been more than three miles away when they first caught sight of their pursuit. He and Arth could never have hauled the cart this far in time.

But the robot proved to be powerful when he ordered it to lend a hand-or claw. It was at least as good a tractor as the donkey had been. They covered those three miles quickly.

During the race for shelter, Dennis was certain that he had felt that queer resonance effect again between the humans and the Krenegee, directed at the tools they were using. It had been a mild version of the felthesh trance. He was sure the cart and robot had changed again even over that short stretch.

At his command, the 'bot took its place under the wagon again. Two of its three arms clamped onto the undercarriage to hold on.

Already the arms were beginning to look suited to the task.

Linnora and he pushed the cart through a gap in the bushes, while Arth ran back up the road to keep watch. Once they were onto the highway, Linnora climbed aboard and reset the glider sails. Dennis almost stopped her, but then he shrugged and let her finish. Who could tell? The flapping things might frighten some party of troops they came upon.

Arth came hurrying back. "Th' whole army's headed this way, Dennizz! At th' rate they're comin' we got no more'n an hour's head start."

"Okay. Let's get going."

Linnora belted herself into the cart, its sleek, almost streamlined sides glistening in the sunshine. Arth climbed aboard and took the brakes, whose friction bars and bindings had begun to look almost like machine-designed units.

Dennis remained on his feet to help push. He would hop in when they came to a downhill slope.

Linnora had already begun to enter her practice meditation. Maybe he was becoming more sensitive, or maybe it was the presence of the pixolet, but Dennis could already feel its traces begin to fill the s.p.a.ce around him.

The pixolet, seeing a better place to position itself than his shoulder, abandoned him and launched itself to the top of the twin masts. The sails drooped under its weight, but the creature seemed happy enough. Its purring intensified the feeling that strange powers were already at work, helping mould the cart into something better.

Fine, Dennis thought, but I'd still rather have an armored personnel carrier, made from scratch by the Chatham Works in England.

With a sigh he nodded to his motley crew, and signaled the robot to commence pulling at top speed.

Dennis pushed on the upslopes, and ran alongside on the downhill sections while Arth applied the brakes and Linnora steered. The robot whirred and the sails flapped.

Above them all, the little Krenegee beast purred, amplifying the queer resonance that seemed to glow around them like an aura. The afternoon felt crystalline, like a faceted gem, and the use of the cart became like a complicated dance to music just beyond the edge of hearing.

Clearly they were getting better at working together to make the practice trance work.

It gave Dennis a strange sense of exhilaration. Through the pixolet, he could almost feel Linnora's thoughts as she concentrated. It seemed to tie them together, somehow closer than they otherwise might have been. Arth, too, became part of the matrix, although the Krenegee did not focus upon the little thief quite as much.

Dennis caught occasional glimpses of Pix perched upon its drooping sails. The creature grinned, enjoying the flow of purpose that flooded through it into the machine their lives depended on.

And it was changing. Dennis pushed the cart until he found he had to run simply to hang on! At the top of a steep rise he ordered the robot to stop, and he climbed aboard up front to take the reins from Linnora. The straps, he found, had grown softer and easier to hold.

He was about to start off again when Arth nudged his shoulder and pointed. Dust rose from the trail behind them. Only a mile or so off, they could see another troop of hors.e.m.e.n, followed by a seemingly endless column of foot soldiers, winding along the mountainside.

Trapped! They couldn't afford to go much faster, or they'd catch up with the units ahead of them. But to slow down would be disastrous!

"I'm going to take down these blasted sails," Dennis said. "Look at how they're drooping. They'll just attract attention, and there never was much wind, anyway."

Linnora stopped him. "Don't, Dennis. I am certain they have helped us remain stable and have slowed us safely over a few of those steep downhill stretches, although I admit I don't understand why. I am sure the cart is practiced for them by now. Removing them would only hurt."

Dennis could only trust her fey second sense. He kissed her quickly, then turned forward and told the robot to proceed.

They sped off down the mountain road.

Less than a mile farther on, they rounded a corner to sweep by a squad of resting cavalrymen. There were at least ten surprised faces, caught in a blur as the cart fluttered past like some great running bird. Men dove to both sides to get out of the way, tumbling in the dusty slope. Shouts followed the fugitives and soon there were charging troopers after them.

Dennis concentrated on his steering. The cart was already screaming along faster than ever. This time, however, he felt he was in control. In the grip of the practicing trance, he felt lightheaded and powerful.

Let 'em follow! They can eat our dust!

He heard Arth laugh from the back of the car, taunting their pursuers. Linnora was singing softly, an old warriors' song, with a strong beat and tone of defiance. It wove itself into the trance they shared. Dennis shouted in exhilaration.

The road turned then, and they came into sight of a battle.

Just ahead, in a flat clearing between the hills, the first fighting was taking place.

It looked like the invaders had caught a party of L'Toff by surprise.

About fifty of Kremer's cavalrymen rode around a harried band of warriors dressed in faded green. The mountain men defended themselves in a disciplined manner with their pikes. No horseman dared approach too closely. But neither could the spearmen withdraw. And from their nervous glances to the north, it was clear they knew the rest of the invading army was not far away.

The defenders looked up in consternation as Dennis drove the car over the lip of the hill. A few cavalrymen, expecting nothing but help from that quarter, shouted in triumph.

The shouts turned to dismay as a great flapping juggernaut zoomed down on them. Dennis had no choice but to head into the thick of them. The ground on the right was too rocky, and on the left, only a dozen meters away, was a steep drop-off.

The cavalry horses were well trained, but not for anything like this whirring, flapping contraption! They screamed and bolted, carrying their hapless riders in every direction.

Dennis could sense Arth, standing up in the rear of the bouncing cart, striking out right and left with a staff and yelling with all his might. One knight who charged alongside seemed about to slash at the broad sails with his battle-ax, but just in time Arth's swinging pole knocked him completely off his horse.

A glimpse behind told Dennis that more of Kremer's soldiers were coming. And about a quarter mile ahead, a large contingent of green- clad fighters was approaching from the south, to the rescue of the beleaguered pikemen. A fair-sized battle was brewing.

He urged the robot to speed up. Their only chance was to get beyond the fighting, quickly!

Swerving hard to the left, Dennis struggled to avoid a collision, sending another pair of horses rearing in panic in their dusty wake.

If their sudden appearance had thrown off the invaders' tempo and enabled a few defenders to escape, that was all to the good. But Dennis's top priority was to get the cart to the other side of this little vale intact. Once beyond, they would be safely behind friendly lines.

They could ride unopposed all the way to Linnora's home!

He felt something move between his legs. He glanced down and saw the pixolet grin back at him from deep within the cart, out of harm's way. The little Krenegee clearly knew how to take care of its own skin.

On looking up again, Dennis cursed quickly and slewed hard to the left. The wagon swept past a cl.u.s.ter of frightened pikemen, missing the stunned soldiers by the breadth of one of the sails.

"Dennizz!" Arth flailed. Dropping the quarterstaff, he plopped down into the cart. "Dennizz, where are you goin?"

"Where do you think I'm-Oh, no! Robot! Full reverse!"

The little machine tried to comply. Its treads screamed. Clouds of dust rose from below them.

The steep slope before them had been hidden by a thin hedge of shrubs beside the road. They plowed straight through the narrow barrier in a shower of branches. Then they were over, rushing pell- mell down a forty-degree embankment!

"Aaaaagh!" he heard Arth say.

"Hoooyyy!" Linnora contributed.

Dennis struggled to steer as the cart bounced and flew downslope, "Slow down!" he urged loudly. He practiced slowing the descent as hard as he could and could feel the others doing the same.

"Slow down!"

Ahead, less than a hundred meters away, was the edge of a precipice. And there didn't seem to be any way to stop in time.

11 Et Two Toots

1.

"Now, remember what I told you all!" Gath shouted at the other aeronauts. From the undercarriages of ten bobbing balloons came cries of a.s.sent.

Gath turned and gave thumbs up to Stivyung Sigel, riding the lead balloon of the south contingent. The big farmer nodded. He brought his hands to his mouth.

"Cast off!" There were two trumpet calls.

Axes split the tethers. Sandbags dropped. Hands spread fresh coals onto the smoldering fires beneath the open bags. One by one, the bright balloons rose past the tall trees and into the sky.

They had waited long for a favorable wind. At last one had come that blew the right way but that would not force them past the battle too soon.

Underneath rode a convoy of support troops ready to catch anchoring ropes when the time came to tether the lighter-than-air flotilla.

Gath was filled with excitement. To be aloft and in action was wonderful after all the waiting. It was a vindication of all the work he and Stivyung had put in with the L'Toff makers and practicers.

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The Practice Effect Part 29 summary

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