Demontech: Gulf Run by David Sherman Page A

stop until she was midway between them and the cavalry officer. Nearly all of the Dartmutters shifted their attention to her; the archers eased the tension on their bowstrings.
    “What’s going on here?” she snapped. Her meaning, if not her words, were clear.
    The captain moved his hand from his sword and swept forward in a bow. “Lady,” he said with a rueful smile, “I am distressed to say I cannot allow you passage.”
    “Can anybody understand him?” Alyline asked loudly enough for everyone nearby to hear.
    “I can,” Plotniko said as he came up. He looked at her, then turned back to Spinner and Haft. “He says we cannot pass.” Turning to the captain, he said, “Sir, my name is Plotniko. I am Eikby’s master carpenter—or I was until the Jokapcul came and destroyed our beautiful town. We are the survivors, along with strangers who came among us in flight from the Jokapcul. I can translate for our leaders.”
    The captain nodded brusquely. “Tell them my Lord Earl has decreed no more refugees are to approach the city. Your flight must take you elsewhere. I must demand that you turn back.”
    While this exchange was taking place, Spinner looked over the confusion surrounding the city and crowding the harbor. He could guess what the captain was saying though the Dartmutter dialect was unintelligible to him. He wondered if the galleys that screened the harbor would have to use force to stop the rapidly approaching coast huggers.
    “We can’t go back!” Alyline said when Plotniko translated the captain’s orders. “The only thing back there is a destroyed town and the Jokapcul.”
    “We have fighting men,” Haft said. “We can help defend the city while we are here.”
    The captain shook his head when Plotniko translated. “The army is full, we have no room for more deserters from other armies,” he said harshly.
    Haft’s face went hard at the insult, but Spinner stopped him from doing anything by saying to Plotniko, “Ask him if there’s another road we can take to the east. If we can go east, then we can completely avoid Dartmutt.” He continued to watch the craft closing on the harbor.
    There was a quick exchange during which the captain gave the wagons a doubtful look.
    “There’s a track about a mile back,” Plotniko translated, “but he doubts it’s wide enough for our wagons to pass. Maybe the dog carts can, he says.”
    Spinner remembered the track. It was narrow and looked like it had seen no recent use, he’d hardly taken note of it.
    “I don’t think we should go east,” Haft said softly. “Look.” He nodded toward the harbor.
    Fifteen of the coast huggers Spinner had noted had broken from the mass of craft to form a line facing the galley screen and close to a couple of hundred yards from them. Puffs of smoke shot back from two of them, followed by sprays of water like whales’ spouts splashing near the galleys. More puffs shot backward from the coast huggers and a galley staggered. Gnatlike specks flew from it, and other gnat-forms leaped from it to the water as flames began licking up its mast and spreading on its decks. The bangs of distant thunder reached them. There were more puffs from the coast huggers, and the galleys began to maneuver to dodge the geysers and close with the attacking craft. But the galleys turned too slowly, and several more were struck before any closed to grappling distance.
    As soon as he realized the harbor was under attack, the cavalry captain forgot the Eikby refugee caravan and turned his troop to race to the city’s defense—surely if the coast huggers broke through the screen they would land soldiers on the quays, or perhaps soldiers were already marching along the shore from the east.
    “They’ve changed their tactics,” Spinner murmured.
    Haft nodded. “Must have,” he agreed. “I thought they only attacked harbors before dawn.”
    “What are you going to do about it?” Alyline demanded. “Are you just going to sit here and