of city parts was coming up against the forward line. He could see the Chasers running in and out like reckless children at play. Big machines rolled out of the group on tractor treads, forcing the marauders back, while the smaller parts moved toward the center.
The rear lines faced similar problems, but they had already cut out a score of stragglers and were tying them down with ropes and stakes. Periodically one of the bound parts would break loose and a knot of men would gather around it again. The struggle reminded him of a formation of ants trying to stop a burst of water. The beleaguered city seemed to run over itself at certain points, and pieces would reassemble, forming nightmare castles and towers which dissolved into the common mass minutes after. Breetod stood by Durragon, leaning on the flank of the green mount, chewing on a piece of sweet grass. They both turned at once when rising smoke caught their eyes.
"What's that?" Durragon asked.
"Bastards have set a grass fire," Breetod said. "They're trying to stop the advance with a fire!"
"Tell the rest of the troops to start cutting into the rear. I want them to find anything that looks like it's in command -- anything! Cut it out of the formation and bring it here. And whoever set that fire -- shoot them on the spot."
Breetod ran off. Nebeki came up on his other side, breathing hard, face smudged with dirt. He was smiling until he saw the trickle of smoke on the plain. "What's that?"
"Never mind. Take all the captured parts and get them off the plain, away from the grass. Take them into the hills on the other side."
In an hour, the fire raged out of control. Smoke reached up to the blue sky and streamed to the west. The city had stopped. Durragon could see that large sections of it were already on fire. Before long at least a third of the mass was blazing, but the city would not retreat. Breetod returned, gasping and exhausted, face smoke-darkened and hair snagged with burrs and bits of grass. "Sir, we're going to lose the whole city. There aren't any defenses left to put out the fire. It's just waiting to die."
"Follow," Durragon said, urging the mount forward.
The next few hours blurred in his memory. He rode out among the burning city parts, coughing in the smoke. The night sky descended and the plain and surrounding hills were lit up by the central blaze. Many of the Chasers were trapped and burned to death, or so badly burned they had to be put out of their agony. The rest of the army herded captured parts across the plain into the hills, tying them to the thickest trees and cutting down the brush behind them to form a firebreak. Breetod was almost trampled by a transport unit which rumbled over him, undercarriage passing a scant finger's breadth above his back.
When the fire showed no signs of abating, they untied the captured parts and herded them still higher, into the rock columns which had fallen away from some of the sheer hill ledges.
Durragon wandered through the assembly on foot, with the Habiru teacher following several steps behind. A few suspect parts were isolated and a rough fence built around them. One -- a drum that had been carried by a transport until the transport burned -- had no obvious purpose, and Ezeki Iben Tav examined it closely. "This may be a control," he said.
By morning the plain was a smoldering expanse of the char. The fire had passed to east and west, ending at the dust of the river bottom and the rocks of the higher hills. After a few hours of fitful, coughing-racked sleep, Durragon took his mount out to survey the remains of the city.
"So passes the city of Tomoye," the old Habiru said, bending down to rescue a small water-spreader lacking its hose. It wriggled in his arms and tried to spurt dry air.
* * * *
The ghost's path was old; he went through houses and walls and walked along upper levels which had long since collapsed. She followed as best she could, hair on end, muttering automatic prayers. The figure
The rear lines faced similar problems, but they had already cut out a score of stragglers and were tying them down with ropes and stakes. Periodically one of the bound parts would break loose and a knot of men would gather around it again. The struggle reminded him of a formation of ants trying to stop a burst of water. The beleaguered city seemed to run over itself at certain points, and pieces would reassemble, forming nightmare castles and towers which dissolved into the common mass minutes after. Breetod stood by Durragon, leaning on the flank of the green mount, chewing on a piece of sweet grass. They both turned at once when rising smoke caught their eyes.
"What's that?" Durragon asked.
"Bastards have set a grass fire," Breetod said. "They're trying to stop the advance with a fire!"
"Tell the rest of the troops to start cutting into the rear. I want them to find anything that looks like it's in command -- anything! Cut it out of the formation and bring it here. And whoever set that fire -- shoot them on the spot."
Breetod ran off. Nebeki came up on his other side, breathing hard, face smudged with dirt. He was smiling until he saw the trickle of smoke on the plain. "What's that?"
"Never mind. Take all the captured parts and get them off the plain, away from the grass. Take them into the hills on the other side."
In an hour, the fire raged out of control. Smoke reached up to the blue sky and streamed to the west. The city had stopped. Durragon could see that large sections of it were already on fire. Before long at least a third of the mass was blazing, but the city would not retreat. Breetod returned, gasping and exhausted, face smoke-darkened and hair snagged with burrs and bits of grass. "Sir, we're going to lose the whole city. There aren't any defenses left to put out the fire. It's just waiting to die."
"Follow," Durragon said, urging the mount forward.
The next few hours blurred in his memory. He rode out among the burning city parts, coughing in the smoke. The night sky descended and the plain and surrounding hills were lit up by the central blaze. Many of the Chasers were trapped and burned to death, or so badly burned they had to be put out of their agony. The rest of the army herded captured parts across the plain into the hills, tying them to the thickest trees and cutting down the brush behind them to form a firebreak. Breetod was almost trampled by a transport unit which rumbled over him, undercarriage passing a scant finger's breadth above his back.
When the fire showed no signs of abating, they untied the captured parts and herded them still higher, into the rock columns which had fallen away from some of the sheer hill ledges.
Durragon wandered through the assembly on foot, with the Habiru teacher following several steps behind. A few suspect parts were isolated and a rough fence built around them. One -- a drum that had been carried by a transport until the transport burned -- had no obvious purpose, and Ezeki Iben Tav examined it closely. "This may be a control," he said.
By morning the plain was a smoldering expanse of the char. The fire had passed to east and west, ending at the dust of the river bottom and the rocks of the higher hills. After a few hours of fitful, coughing-racked sleep, Durragon took his mount out to survey the remains of the city.
"So passes the city of Tomoye," the old Habiru said, bending down to rescue a small water-spreader lacking its hose. It wriggled in his arms and tried to spurt dry air.
* * * *
The ghost's path was old; he went through houses and walls and walked along upper levels which had long since collapsed. She followed as best she could, hair on end, muttering automatic prayers. The figure
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