Doom's Break by Christopher Rowley

their land. I was very fortunate. Perhaps the Spirit took pity on me, I don't know, but the Great King of Shasht himself protected me. He befriended me. When I told him what his army was doing to our people, he understood. He had already decided to stop the war. He has now come to Shasht to put an end to it."
    There was a long silence from her ring of listeners.
    "You're saying that the Great King of the men is on that ship?"
    "Yes. He is not like the other men. He is a good man."
    "I have never heard a man described that way before."
    "I was as surprised as you are now when I was first told I was not going to die. I had been separated from the others as soon as we landed in the city of men."
    The mot had noticed Nuza's beauty and lithe presence. "They took you because you are beautiful."
    "Perhaps. I have a gift at acrobatics. That's what I used to do, in the old days. It pleases him to watch me. When I learned that the Great King wanted to meet me, I had little to say in the matter, so we met. He told me many things, explained much about the world that I did not know. He had decided to stop the war."
    "Then why has it not stopped?"
    "There are other forces involved. The Great King rules on sufferance of another authority, an ancient being called 'the Old One.'"
    The mot drew back with a hiss. "That sounds like sorcery."
    "It is. And the Old One moved against the King."
    "So the Great King fell from power, and now he comes to us seeking forgiveness?"
    "The Great King fell, but he comes here to take command of the army of men. He will reorganize them and then take them back to Shasht."
    "And win back his throne with it?"
    "Yes."
    Her listeners drew back. Three of them huddled together to exchange views. Finally the first one turned back to her.
    "Your tale is fantastic and would be dismissed as nonsense except that we have seen you come from a man ship."
    She shrugged. "Whether you believe me or not, what is important is that you take this message." She handed over a sealed envelope.
    The mot scrutinized the envelope carefully. "It is addressed to the great Toshak."
    "It is. He is a friend of mine as well. He once worked in my troupe of acrobats. He was the sword fighter."
    His eyes widened. "Truly, you are a well-connected mor..."
    "Fortune has forced this on me. I would prefer to still be earning my living tumbling in the villages of Tamf and Dronned. It was a good life, and I loved it."
    There was further discussion.
    One voice, that of a brilby with prominent eyebrow tufts, arose in dissent. The spokesmot turned back to her.
    "The message will be sent to the South at once. Jilba here thinks you should be sent to the Assenzi at Highnoth. What do you say?"
    "I will see the Assenzi soon enough, I'm sure," she said. "But first I must escort the Great King south. I must be there when he and Toshak meet. It is vital that they be able to work together. I can help them, because I have learned the language of the men."
    The mot was incredulous. "Are you saying that you want to go back to that ship?"
    "I have been treated well on that ship. Yes, I want to go back, and I hope I can take back some food with me. We have been at sea for a long time, and our rations are running low."
    The mots and brilbies drew back with a collective hiss. "You want us to give them food?"
    "I know it sounds crazy, but yes. You must understand that the Great King is our best chance of ending this war without further bloodshed."
    For a long moment the crowd stared at her, then at each other. At last, the spokesmot turned back to Nuza.
    "It is fell chance that brought you here. None of us would wish it known that we had given aid to the enemy. But you pose us a difficult choice. How can we turn down an opportunity to help bring about an early peace?"
    And so, when Nuza returned to the jetty an hour later, a cart was driven up behind her and casks of flour, jars of oil, and cartons of cheese were set down there. The mots and brilbies would come no closer