Erik kept as close to the flames as possible, as there he had the least trouble passing the throng running through the street. The horse continued to shy from the flames, but Erik’s firm scat and short reins kept the animal under control.
At the end of the estuary, where the first fire was set, the large ship’s cradle and hull were almost completely intact, save for some scorching, and the once brisk fire was now guttering. Erik saw an abandoned house across the street and rode there. Leaping from the saddle, he swatted the horse on the rump, sending it away.
Running inside the house, Erik found furnishings turned every which way. Looters, perhaps, thought Erik, or a family desperate to clear out their few valuables before the fire reached them. He grabbed a chair and ran across the broad street, to the top of the jetty that overlooked the fire and tossed the wooden chair into the flames below. He made several quick trips across the rainy street and every loose piece of furniture made its way into the fire. As Nakor predicted, once reaching a certain heat, the fire grew, despite the rain, which seemed to be leveling off at a steady drizzle rather than a serious downpour.
In the next house, Erik found more loose flammables and threw them into the growing fire. At last he felt certain the cradle and hull would stay alight, but as he looked down the quayside, his heart sank. His was the only fire burning strongly enough to withstand the rain, and there was only so much one man could do.
He hurried to the next fire, which was almost extinguished, and found a store across the street. The large wooden doors had been forced open, one hanging from a single hinge while the other lay on the street. Erik picked up the one door and carried it to the edge of the street overlooking the shipyard below. He tossed the wooden door as far as he could and it sailed down to land on the edge of the sputtering flames. If anything, it banked the fire even more.
Erik swore as he hurried back to the shop. The front of the store was almost intact; whoever had pried open the doors had taken one look and run off. The store was a chandlery, with nothing of value to a looter. Erik hurried through and in the rear he found yards of sail. More, he found scaling pitch in barrels. He quickly rolled one out through the ruined storefront, and across the street. There he picked up the barrel. He threw it so it landed squarely on the flames. The barrel struck with a satisfying crack and quickly the pitch began to burn. Erik took a step away and then a fountain of flame sprang skyward.
Nakor ran up and said, “What did you find? That was a good ‘whoosh’!”
“Pitch,” answered Erik. “Inside.” He turned and the little man followed after. Nakor scurried around, looking at everything he could find. He came away with several smaller kegs and put them aside out front, then hurried inside. A moment later he came out, stooped over, pushing a barrel as Erik was returning from putting a second barrel on the flame.
Erik paused and turned to look at the western sky. The bridge of light was nearing the apex of its arc, the Saaur and mercenaries at the leading edge standing hundreds of feet above the water.
Nakor said, “Wish I had a trick, boy. If I could make that thing vanish”—he snapped his fingers—“that would be something, watching them all fall into the river.”
Erik got another barrel and side by side they rolled them down the cobbles, toward the third builder’s yard. “Why doesn’t some magician around here think of that?” he asked, nearly panting from the exertion.
“Battle magic is difficult,” said Nakor as he pushed the barrel along. “Magician has a trick. Another magician counters the trick. Third magician counters the second. Fourth magician tries to help the second. They’re all standing around trying to best one another and the army comes along and chops them up. Very dangerous and not many magicians willing to try.
“Surprise is the thing.” He paused as he reached the ramp leading down to the lower landing where the main building of the shipyard was ablaze, and let the barrel roll away with a guiding kick. “That trick there would be very easy to counter, if you gave a powerful magician the time to study it. Lots of Pantathians working together on that bridge. Lots of serpent priests concentrating together. Very difficult Easy to disrupt. Like unraveling a bag. You pull the right thread at the seam, and it all falls apart.” Erik looked at him expectantly. Nakor grinned. “I don’t know how. But Pug of Stardock or maybe some Tsurani Great Ones could do it.”
Erik closed his eyes a moment, then said, “Well, if they’re not going to show up to help, I guess we have to do it ourselves. Come on!”
As they ran back toward the chandler’s, Nakor continued, “But if Pug or some other powerful magician was to try, the Emerald Queen has even more magicians ready to burn him to a cinder if he . . .” He stopped. “I have an idea!”
Erik halted, gasping for breath. “What?”
“You go find the others. Tell them to steal a boat here, in the estuary. Don’t wait. Leave now. Get out of the harbor fast. I’ll take care of the fires!”