two came forward; the rest remained where they were, too shocked to move.
Two more of Yggur’s guard landed, followed by a body, the elderly cook who’d been shot early in the fracas. Flangers heaved it to one side without ceremony. Then came Yggur’s seneschal, his under-chef and maid-of-all-work. The seneschal had broken both legs but the others started dragging the injured out of the way with disciplined efficiency.
Yggur slid down on his backside, though he managed to stand up just before the end, sprang right over the fallen and landed on his feet. One of the last to jump, he’d come down in a grey streak, passing some of the other prisoners on the way.
‘You’ve done well,’ he said, surveying the scene in a single glance before taking his turn with the injured.
The amphitheatre didn’t completely collapse, for the air-dreadnought crews had not been able to cut the last two cables. Part of the deck was now draped over the roofs and towers of Fiz Gorgo, while the rest stood up at an angle as the two remaining craft were pushed away on the wind. The canvas was jerking and snapping under the strain.
They worked for several minutes without speaking, until the bulk of the sliders had been moved to safety further down the roof. When they were only coming down in ones and twos, Yggur drew Flangers and Irisis aside.
‘Arm yourselves. We’re not out of danger yet. The air-dreadnoughts haven’t gone far, and the hundred-odd soldiers who were sent down to look for Nish are still here somewhere. They may not stay loyal once they realise that the scrutators are going to abandon them. But then again, they may.’
They armed themselves with swords and crossbows that had collected in the roof gully.
‘I don’t see anyone out in the yard,’ said Irisis. ‘They may not realise that we’ve survived.’
‘Someone will signal them. Look out!’
It was Fyn-Mah, cutting a curving path down the slide, still holding a bloody Flydd as tightly as before. Irisis and Yggur stood together and caught the pair as they came over the edge.
‘How is he?’ Irisis said.
Flydd’s eyes were closed, his fleshless lips blue and he sagged in Fyn-Mah’s arms. He looked as if he’d been dead for a day.
‘He may survive,’ Fyn-Mah said, ‘if he can regain the will to live.’
Yggur jerked his head and Fyn-Mah carried Flydd down to the bottom of the roof gully, refusing all offers of help.
‘Where’s Nish?’ said Irisis, looking up anxiously. ‘That seems to be everyone.’
‘I thought he was with you.’
‘I jumped first. I haven’t see him since.’
Yggur frowned. ‘I don’t see anyone coming – ah, there he is.’
Nish came skidding down, shot off the end of the dip and Yggur plucked him neatly out of the air. The seat of Nish’s pants was smoking and he’d lost skin off his left arm, but he was beaming.
‘We did it!’ he cried, though his euphoria faded when he saw the pile of dead, and dozens more with broken bones.
‘A lot of those were dead before they came down,’ said Irisis. ‘We didn’t lose many from the collapse.’
Nish stood up, beating out his backside as he looked back up the slide. One last figure came rolling down the now gentle slope as the amphitheatre collapsed, draping itself over the towers. The burly little man hit the dip, bounced high, tumbled in the air like an acrobat and landed on his feet.
Yggur lunged at him but Nish cried hastily, ‘He’s a friend! Klarm – Scrutator Klarm – cut the cables and saved my life.’
‘Did he now?’ Yggur said dubiously. He scrutinised the dwarf, then nodded. ‘You’re with us, then?’
Klarm bowed low. ‘After seeing Ghorr’s craven display, how could I do otherwise?’
Yggur thrust out his hand and Klarm took it. ‘I’m glad to have you.’ Yggur called his soldiers and household to him. ‘The struggle is far from over. The scrutators have more than a hundred soldiers below, not to mention the soldiers and witnesses here, and we can’t count on them aiding us. We must watch our backs and be prepared for anything.’ He called out in a commanding voice. ‘Come this way, everyone. We can get in through the roof down here.’ Yggur lowered his voice. ‘Though after that we must prepare to do battle – what is it, Nish?’
‘See that?’ A canvas-shrouded net was slowly being winched up to Ghorr’s air-dreadnought. ‘It’s the thapter.’
‘Are you sure?’ said Yggur.
‘Yes. The tarps slipped just before I came down. And they’ve got Tiaan,