CHAPTER IV


UNDER SIEGE


	With eyes red from a sleepless night and his wise face haggard with fatigue Dego 
Kolmarin reported to Irwain that despite the hopelessness of achieving an alliance with the 
Dominion of Aseur within the quickest possible time, there was a hairbreadth's chance the 
Dominion Vicegerent might succeed in persuading his government to change their present stance.  

	During the subsequent meeting with the Vicegerent Irwain sombrely listened to the 
dignitary's elucidations and profuse regret for the way the conference, which had started with 
such a bright flame of hope had sputtered and died.  He confirmed most members of his 
delegation had returned home but he had remained to see what measures could be taken to 
remedy the disaster.  

	"Sire," he spoke soberly, "it is rather discomfiting for my delegates to realize they were 
nearly the victims of an assassination.  The knowledge of such a fate would even unnerve the 
staunchest of us."  

	"Vicegerent," Irwain said coldly, "to be perfectly frank, you were not the target at all, but 
my young captain. You seem to be all brimming with health while he lies in the infirmary fighting 
for his life.  I must confess, nonetheless, that you have faced great danger which our government 
should have prevented, and for that I offer you my personal apologies and those of my ministers 
and Queen Fleuridi.  You have obviously heard the news the Magni-Xandian invaders have lain 
siege to the coastal city of Merinburg.  The war has spilled into Vespar.  The Dominion is not yet 
involved but I must warn you, Vicegerent, Carlomon cannot afford himself the luxury of having 
a neutral zone so nearby, which may or may not decide to change its policies." 

	With discomfort the Dominion Vicegerent said: "At the present moment, the policy of 
my government is to stay out of hostilities for as long as it takes.  It considers itself fortunate the 
treaty was not concluded, because if it were, the choice of remaining neutral would have been 
eliminated.  Speaking to you privately, Sire, my personal view is that Carlomon considers himself 
so powerful he can no longer so easily be stopped.  Classified information has reached me that 
subversive elements have already begun their infiltration into Dominion society.  I will return to 
the Dominion, plead my case to the Procerem and hope for the best.  Meanwhile, even if there is 
so preciously little I can do presently, I can still offer you material aid on humanitarian grounds.  
I sincerely entreat you to accept, Sire.  Personally, it would make me feel better."

	Irwain exchanged a quick look with Dego before he consented with a gracious bow.  "I 
gratefully accept and thank your people for their generosity, Vicegerent.  If you wish to depart, 
all arrangements have been made to escort you safely to the border."  

	The Dominion Vicegerent stated the sooner he returned to his capital the better for 
everyone concerned and when he had retired from the meeting hall Dego questioned Irwain what 
the Regency was going to do next.  	Irwain said:  "All our forces in Geosphere D'Or are pulling 
back into the far hinterland.  It is absolutely vital we keep the Geosphere from falling into enemy 
hands and I intend to fly there later in the day to prevent the situation from becoming worse."  

	"I think it is far more prudent for you to remain in Okrane, Sire," Dego cautiously 
suggested. "From here you are able to direct all the defence forces more effectively.  And 
additional troops have been despatched to D'Or."  

	Irwain heaved a sigh and was hardly able to stifle a yawn. "I am not leaving right now. 
There are still numerous things to be settled here first.  For instance, Commander Deyron has sent 
in a request for the relocation of the Fly Corps into the obscurity of the eastern valley.  I am 
going to see him now to find out why he thinks this is necessary."

	"With your permission, Sire," said Dego in a tired voice. "I'd rather go and lie down for a 
while.  Otherwise I shall collapse here and now, and if I may advise you, you had better do the 
same."  

	"Dego Kolmarin," Irwain said, viewing the Royal Counsel with some affection in his grey 
eyes.  "You have done a marvelous job, although not to fruition, but the attempt has been made 
and the Dominion is aware of our goodwill.  I'm glad we are in this together, you and I, standing 
side by side." 

	"So am I, Sire, so am I."

	After Kolmarin had made his exit, Deyron reported in with a rolled up chart under his 
arm.  Spreading the chart on a table Deyron proceeded to explain his reasons why he thought it 
advisable to move the Fly Corps deeper into the southeastern wooded heartland of Vespar. 

	"The Fly Bay," he stated, "is situated too close to the Royal Capital where everybody can 
easily see the Zippercraft going into the sky.  All the Fly Corps' activities are open to scrutiny, 
friendly or otherwise.  And judging from past events, we can never be too sure whether all 
unfriendly prying eyes have been shut down.  I think it is wise to move the Fly Corps to a place 
where no enemy troops can find it with a mere glance and where it can operate in secrecy.  Radio 
communication will be strengthened and maintained throughout with Okrane, and especially 
with you, Governor General.  It follows quite naturally therefore the assembly line for future 
flycraft will also have to be removed from the outskirts of the city, and possibly relocated in the 
proximity of the new Fly Bay.

	"I have made the necessary coordinating with Leoynar, and we both agree it can be 
achieved if we worked throughout the night.  There is a valley beneath the southeastern verge of 
the hills, with steep banks and overgrown with fir trees. We only need to claim a small cirque 
from the woods where the Zippercraft can land and take off.  The crew can bivouac amidst the 
trees.  It's perfect as a hidden base.  With your consent, Governor General, we will immediately 
start the arrangements."  

	"Very well thought of, Commander Deyron, and well reasoned.  I am entirely unable to 
disagree.  You may proceed to put your plans into action." 

	Deyron, his sun-burnt face flushing with pleasure, withdrew from the hall while Irwain 
left on his own at last after many sleepless hours, rang for his valet.  

	As he rested and took nourishment, Irwain studied the war chart and summed up the 
overall situation:  Merinburg stood fast, although the D'Orrian battalions were reeling under the 
ferocious attacks of gliders.  Carlomon's strategy was plain: once D'Or was under his control, 
Vesparans would be fighting with their backs against the Dominion.  The Dominion could not be 
persuaded to see this wasteful neutrality in another light.  Vespar is standing alone.  

	The news came through in the early hours of the evening that a miraculous turnabout had 
occurred in Geosphere D'Or.  The D'Orrian forces had regrouped, turned around and dealt the 
enemy a crushing blow.  The Magni-Xandian detachments were retreating to the coastline.  With 
a heated colour on his cheeks Dego dashed into Irwain's chambers.  "Is it true?" he panted.  As 
Irwain nodded, Dego grasped his Regent's hand with great emotion.  "Praise to the courage of 
our armies!"

	"Our positions in D'Or are consolidating," Irwain confirmed, mildly optimistic.  "But, 
mark my words, Counsel, it will only provoke more fury from the Magni-Xandian Paramount.  
We will soon know in a few days how he will set the stage for his next attempt at global 
domination.  Meanwhile we have to continue fortifying all our defences." 

	"Then, Sire, however slim, there is hope.  Now that at least the enemy's designs on D'Or 
have been thwarted, I entreat you to have a good sleep tonight.  Tomorrow we will have to cope 
with a new set of developments."  

	Irwain nodded without speaking and as Dego took his leave to return to his own 
chambers, he sank into a chair and lapsed into thought.  A luminous figure on a mighty horse, the 
colour of night with a silver blaze, had arrived out of the folds of darkness, when only a spitting 
distance separated the D'Orrian troops from complete defeat.  This unknown figure had raised a 
gleaming white sabre into the sky, so the reports were saying, which caught the wan light of the 
moon in a spectacular explosion of silver rays and inspired the chaotically retreating armies with 
an eruption of valour and fury so that they turned their faces to the enemy, halted the offensive 
and hurled the enemy back to the coastal rims.  

* * *

	An uneasy cease-fire followed the successes of the D'Orrian army.  Remnants of Magni-
Xandian detachments still remained entrenched in fortifications along the shore dunes but for the 
moment their firepower had been crippled.  Seven days passed by and during this period 
Vesparans continued to prepare themselves with even greater agitation for the next stage of the 
battle.  

	Daily the enemy continued to pound the steadfastness of Merinburg with shells from the 
safe distance of the sea.  The whole harbour fumed and writhed in a lake of fire.  Exploding 
missiles had torn apart many of the white walls and roofs of the city and scorched innumerable 
others, clouds of black smoke billowed and shattered bricks and wood lay strewn all over the 
streets, but Merinburg refused to crumble before the enemy.   

	In Geosphere D'Or the army took advantage of the current lull to wipe out pockets of 
enemy resistance in their rear and mustering more manpower and material for the ultimate drive 
to extract the enemy from the coastal strips.  

	Camouflaged in a valley further southeast from Okrane, the assembly line had been 
working day and night to churn out four more flycraft, which were appropriately tested and, save 
for minor flaws here and there, allowed to form a part of the Fly Corps.  The Corps had until 
now not taken part in any battle but that eventuality was looming near as tension and 
apprehension thickened and heightened with each passing day. 

	Eirini was in daily radio contact with the capital and keeping close tabs on Trajan's 
condition which had not changed.  She wished it were she who could be tending to his care 
instead of Assiya, but more and more as inevitably the war was escalating, the urgency to mould 
the Corps into instant combat readiness occupied her mind and soon she could think of nothing 
else.  

	Day and night Assiya stayed at her place by Trajan's side, even taking her meals in the 
sickroom.  Conrad was far away with the Fly Corps, becoming a man in good company.  Her 
ward no longer needed her and her life had turned full circle.  Here she was at the side of a son 
of a wonderful breed of Beings, who needed her care more than the others, and here she was 
determined to remain until the day of her passing.  

	On the night of the seventh day when Assiya sat huddled on her customary place, 
studying Trajan who had once again drifted into uneasy slumber and holding his hand, a far-off 
explosion resounded through the castle walls.  Jumping up from her seat she ran to the corridor 
where she almost collided with an orderly.  

	"We are under attack!" the orderly yelled with a chalk-white face.  "The enemy has 
attacked Okrane!"  

	Within a few moments the corridor was swarming with a frenetic crowd abuzz with a 
variety of wild rumours and speculations until the Master Physician made his appearance and 
urged everyone to return to their posts. 

	"The castle is safe!" he told the crowd with an urgent voice.  "A contingent of gliders has 
landed on the outskirts of the city but our soldiers are dealing with them, and the castle is safe!"  

	Entering the infirmary he quickly went through the patient's vital signs.  He put up a 
screen around the bed and advised Assiya to stay where she was, and to remain clear of the 
windows. 

	More explosions thudded in the distance throughout the long and anxious night.  Irwain 
failed to turn up for his nightly visit but he came by briefly at the crack of dawn when the news 
had reached the capital that Magni-Xandian forces had landed on the Dominion beach north of 
the border and were pushing in a southerly direction.  

	Strands of mist swung around the meadows north of Okrane as dawn crept up from the 
verges of the pale green hills in the east and spread out a grey veil of light over the green grass on 
the fields and yellow sand on the roads reddened by the blood of the fallen.  A rank of gliders 
had broken through the city gates and the clash of weapons and shouts of men rose to the early 
morning sky.  Driven to madness by the Durus pincers of their helmets, the gliders performed 
feats of impossible bravery as they stormed their way deeper into Okrane.  Masses of them 
continued to pour in from the sky like a blizzard of black hail.  Blood was soon flowing in 
Okrane itself in rivers along the streets. 

	The Fly Corps took to the sky.  Swooping down from the clouds and spitting flames from 
their artillery the Zippercraft speared through the wall of incoming gliders, decimating their 
ranks.  Stricken gliders dropped from heavens of fire and smoke like clumps of dead flies.  A 
sheet of black shrouded the fields and the roads as more slain and wounded kept tumbling 
down.  

	The sight of the superior firepower and agility of the flycraft tempered the hearts of the 
Okranian soldiers fighting on the ground.  Seeing the desperate situation civilian men and women 
took to the barricades of the streets, arming themselves with weapons of fallen soldiers and for 
each soldier who fell there was always an Okranian citizen taking their place. 

	The land fell into silence as sunset threw a sanguine glow over the fields of bloodshed.  
Dusk covered Okrane with long, dark shadows and the city had withstood the first suicidal 
attack of the gliders.  Heaps of slain and wounded citizens and soldiers littered the boulevards; 
trees with their boughs scorched and their bark rent by explosions stood drooping over splintered 
barricades; battle smoke curled thickly around the spires and roofs of the capital.  

	In the midst of this carnage, the Royal Castle rose into the wind-still and tension-laden 
night with stoic splendour.  The next development struck the Regency with sudden devastation 
when Irwain had only just ascertained that the assault on Okrane and across the northern 
boundaries had been repelled with heavy losses on both sides. 

	Paramount Carlomon had dispatched a message directed to the people of Vespar across 
all channels and wavelengths, through pamphlets and other means of communications.  Holding 
the Paramount's epistle in his hand Irwain grimly read it out to Queen Fleuridi and Dego 
Kolmarin.  

	"People of Vespar and Geosphere D'Or:  Your Day of Judgment is at hand.  Until now 
you have tasted only a small and insignificant precursor of greater calamities to come.  Do not 
scorn my might or my capability to raze your cities, towns, homesteads and castles to the ground.  
Yet, as ruler, I understand the virtues of magnanimity.  I do not desire the death of millions, of 
innocent children.  Hear my proposal: I will withdraw my armies from all your fronts and 
suspend hostilities for an indefinite time if you deliver your Captain Schurell into my hands, 
alive.  The choice lies in your court:  bring the Captain to me and I will leave you in peace to 
rebuild your country.  Consider the logic of my argument.  What is the value of one young 
captain against the lives of your families and your children?  Refuse me and hell will descend 
upon their heads!"

	Irwain raised his eyes from the communication and gazed upon the faces of the Queen 
and the Royal Counsel.  He asked in a low voice: "What is the response of the people?"  

	"Sire!" the Royal Counsel burst out, "the people will stand by you, and by their 
Sovereign.  They will fight, fight to the death, rather than capitulating, giving the Captain up as 
hostage."  

	"And under no circumstances will I permit that," the girl Queen spoke in a determined 
voice.  "Surrendering the Captain to that monster is like condemning one's own dear child to the 
horrors of captivity.  The people will hear my voice and although I speak in the voice of an 
adolescent, they will listen to their Royal Daughter and stand firm in their belief, whatever the 
sacrifice."  

	Irwain bowed deeply. "My deep gratitude to both of you, Your Highness and Royal 
Counsel. The issue has become not only a matter of political grievance, but of personal 
vengeance.  I have to make my choices too." 

	Bowing again, he abruptly turned round and left them in uneasy silence.  Rushing down 
the corridors he entered the semi-darkness of the infirmary.  Seating himself on the side of the 
bed, he took Trajan's hand.  	"What am I going to do?" he asked hoarsely.  "What choices do I 
have, Trajan, millions of lives against yours? When their sons are being butchered, their daughters 
raped and their children slaughtered, Vesparans will soon be counting up the costs they are 
paying to protect one life."  

	"You have almost none," Trajan answered, opening his eyes.  He appeared lucid, with all 
his senses clear, but his lips seemed bloodless and he was still very weak.  

	Dwelling with surging emotion upon those enigmatic pools of eyes, cool grey and stormy 
purple, Irwain bent closer, clutching Trajan's hand. "What will be my choice?"  

	Trajan momentarily squeezed his eyes as if struggling against dizziness, or against pain.  
Gazing at Irwain once more he said:  "There is only one, and you know what it is."  

	"You want to go to Lumentor, in the Smaze."  

	"The answer lies there, in the Smaze, where it had all begun and where it will end."  

	Irwain bowed his head with a grim and resigned expression.  "So be it."  

	Trajan half rose.  "Have you been there before?"  Receiving no reply he pressed Irwain's 
hand tighter, "You know what I want, but I need to know what you want.  I need to know who 
you really are."

      Irwain had his head still bent low as if to avoid his searching gaze.  He straightened up.  
The toll of sleepless nights was etched into his face, his eyes were blurred with tears.  Tears that 
he had not shed for a very long time.  "Dear son, speak no more!  Taking you into the Smaze is 
my decision also.  Assiya, put him in suitable clothing for a long trip.  I will instruct the Master 
Physician to make arrangements to have the Captain transported to the Zippercraft when it 
lands."

	Dego Kolmarin, when he learnt of the decision, was stunned with horror and dismay.  

	"Into the Smaze!  Sire, this--this is a very extreme way for dealing with the crisis."  
'Madness!' Dego wanted to blurt out but restrained himself with the utmost effort.  Irwain 
remained unswayed by the urgent warnings and fervent appeals and had already radioed for a 
Zippercraft to land on the grounds of the castle.  

	"Dego, my good friend," Irwain spoke to the Royal Counsel whom he had learnt to 
respect during the past dark days.  "I cannot let the deaths of millions be blamed on the Captain.  
There will come a time when the people, sickened by bloodshed, will demand that we give him 
up as a prisoner to the Magni-Xandians, and I cannot permit that either.  The Smaze is the only 
safe place for the Captain.  No one will dare to follow us there, and the Magni-Xandian 
Paramount's obsession to possess him is an issue obviously linked to the puzzling phenomenon 
we witnessed on the steps of the Decorum.  And I know where Lumentor is in the Smaze." 

	"Lumentor!" Dego whispered, "the Forbidden Legend."  And suddenly his arguments 
evaporated into thin air. 

	Once his mind was set on this objective Irwain acted with swiftness throughout the night.  
He put Dego in absolute control of the Regency and appointed a commander with long years of 
combat experience as Acting Supreme Commander of the armed forces during his absence.  A 
counterstrike to drive the enemy back from the northern frontier would be devised during the 
night and put into action tomorrow and he promised to return to take command of the final 
offensive.

	A Zippercraft piloted by one navigator only had already zoomed down on the castle's 
grounds an hour before and Irwain hastened down the hallways with Dego and the Master 
Physician trying to keep up with him.  "Royal Counsel," Irwain spoke to Dego, "I have to do this 
alone.  No one is going to come with me, and no one else except those who already know is to 
learn where I have gone, but heed my words:  I shall return one way or the other." 

	He was striding towards the front door when he came upon Assiya who fell prone before 
him on the floor.  "My Lord," she wailed in a high voice, "they've taken the Captain to the craft, 
but take me with you also.  All these days and nights I have cared for him so much he has 
become part of me.  If you take him away without me, you are taking away my life!" 

	"Sire," the Physician said in a tremulous voice, "you'll need a nurse to attend to the 
Captain during the strenuous journey.  You can't do it alone, not with a wounded man." 

	"Old woman," Irwain gruffly said, "you can come along but don't get in the way."  

	Assiya panted behind him as he bolted out the front portals of the castle.  On an open 
patch of turf amidst the woods the lights of the craft winked like fireflies through the shadows 
of the trees.  Irwain gave his last instructions to the navigator who thereupon withdrew to the 
castle.  He entered the interior of the craft.  Trajan was half-lying on a stretcher at the back of the 
craft seemingly comfortably asleep but in all likelihood sedated.  Irwain covered him with his 
mantle while Assiya squatted beside him.  Taking his place at the controls he sealed off the door, 
checked all instruments and activated the lift-off lever.  With a subdued whine the Zippercraft 
first vibrated on a cushion of smoke before zipping like a little bright star to the sea of others in 
the sky.  

	Irwain kept his craft high above the clouds where no glider troopers would spot him.  He 
took a diagonal shortcut across the Atlantic, brushing close past enemy airspace along the sea's 
western horizons.  An hour later he arrived at the south rim of the Main where the sea evaporated 
into a sky-high Smaze cataract and he steered the vessel off at a northerly tangent towards the 
southwestern summits of the Great Divide.  

	Dark and sombre the peaks and cliffs of the Great Divide reared up into the star-
shimmering veil of the night.  All creatures of the mountains seemed to have fallen in deep 
slumber or gone into a better world beneath the shrouds of their terrible silence.  Irwain 
manoeuvered the craft for two hours along the rugged brims of the mountains, coasting within a 
yard past the ridge where Trajan and his companions had once stood and debated which course 
their journey should take, until the Smaze rose like a grey wall along the western verges.  

	The Zippercraft penetrated the Smaze like an arrow through water and for a few moments 
Irwain lost all sense of space and direction.  Shaking off his initial confusion he soon ascertained 
that the craft was keeping to its velocity and continuing to fly to the tune of the correct 
coordinates.  He set the steering control to automatic and rose from his seat to check on Trajan's 
condition when a sudden tremor sent him reeling back against his seat. The engines of the craft 
screeched with the voice of one tormented and the fuselage plating shuddered as though a 
hundred hands with hammers were battering against it from the outside Smaze.  

	Climbing into the control seat, Irwain perceived with shock that for all the deafening roar 
of the engines around him the craft had lost forward impetus and was stationary.  He pushed the 
speed lever to the limit but it only had the effect of exacerbating the convulsions of the craft.  
Irwain heard Assiya behind him utter a wail of terror.  Looking up at the windscreen he saw 
wreathing amongst the clouds of mist strings of shades, darker than the milky surroundings.  
They pressed against the screen panels like vengeful spectres rising from the depths of a black 
conscience, their faces eyeless and featureless, and their voices filled the craft with their chorus 
of monotonous humming.  

	Staring wild-eyed at that mad play of phantoms before him on the screen, Irwain's hand 
on the speed lever tried again and again with despair to spring the craft into motion.  A hand 
closed around his holding the lever.  

	"You are applying the wrong manoeuvre," Trajan said.  He was holding in his hand a 
rectangular tablet that was flashing with a bewildering array of symbols.