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Chapter Twenty

Alexandros had little to say while Lycon urged him to hurry getting dressed and pushed him into Vonones' litter. That suited the hunter. Lycon knew he would need all the strength he could muster.


Vonones was red-faced and bleary-eyed when he greeted Lycon, but the bustle of men and the raucous barking and baying of dogs were proof that the Armenian had put his morning hours to good use. "Well, you look hale and hearty again," he lied to Lycon.


"And you look like you've had a restful night yourself," Lycon agreed sardonically. "What have you got?"


"Five packs—maybe fifty dogs in all—from one place or another. They're nothing much to look at, but they'll kill."


"Where's N'Sumu?" asked Lycon, glancing around.


"Not back yet. He doesn't need to know about the dogs. Want to start without him?"


Lycon considered it. "No, better wait. Why should he miss the party? And anyway, a word from him and we're naught but arena-bait."


"Lycon," Vonones frowned, "We're likely to be dead—unpleasantly dead—no matter what happens."


"Then a joke is all that's left to us," the hunter laughed harshly. "But you're right, and I'd better send Alexandros home. This is no hunt for him to earn first blood."


"Alexandros? Is he here?"


"Yes. You sent him to tell me things were ready, remember? I brought him back with me from the baths. Should have let him stay there and have fun with his friends, but I'm sure the boy wanted to see the hunt." Briefly Lycon regretted that he had not spent more time with his son, teaching him the ways of men. Well, he couldn't think about that now.


"Well, I never sent him to you. I haven't even seen him today."


"You were probably too busy to notice Alexandros hanging about," Lycon said. "He must have come on along with your runner when you sent him after me." Something was oddly wrong here, but Lycon did not have time to think about it.


"That must be it," Vonones agreed uneasily. "Want to take a look at the dogs? Like I said . . ."


Lycon shrugged. "They don't have to be hunters; all animals seem to hate its scent—even the tiger went after its spoor. I just want enough dogs to make up several large packs—large enough that the lizard-ape can't just turn and kill a few hounds and then disappear again. We'll split into groups if we lose its trail, but we'll keep the groups big enough to deal with the thing once it's run to earth.


"We'll need plenty of lights for each potential group—five packs, would you say? Then we'll need nets and ropes—too close quarters for lassos, more's the pity. Archers won't be much use for the same reason, but short swords and boar spears—anything for close work will do. If we can track it, we can catch it, and once we manage to ensnare the lizard-ape, we can finish it."


"Capture it," Vonones emphasized urgently. Quiet!" he added. "Here comes N'Sumu."


"Let's get busy then."


The dogs were nothing to brag about, but they would do. They would have to do. He was gambling on the likelihood that the lizard-ape would wait for nightfall to quit the sewers—it needed the darkness to cloak its movements, after all. With enough dogs and men he could track it down below—no matter how fast it fled, no matter how many side tunnels it tried to hide within. The lizard-ape was fast, but once cornered by the dogs, a dozen men with nets and weapons would prove more than its match at close quarters. Or so Lycon hoped.


"Was that your boy?" N'Sumu joined them. He seemed to be in high good spirits, which grated on the overstretched nerves of Lycon and Vonones. "What a lovely lad. You must be very proud, Lycon."


Was there a threat behind the kind words? Really, there was no doubt, whether the Egyptian meant to express it or not. Lycon said: "Alexandros isn't coming along with us on this. I'm sending him home."


"No need. He was on his way out as I arrived." N'Sumu smiled. If the Egyptian was trying to be pleasant after this morning's show of force, Lycon decided he preferred him angry.


"Well," said Lycon, "we're all here. Let's get on with it."


"Got wagons to haul everything," Vonones told him, justifiably proud of the degree of organization he had managed. "Be lucky if we don't have a dead dog or two by the time we pick up the trail. I've tried to keep these packs separated as best I could, but most of the dogs have never worked together—they're still busy sniffing asses and sorting one another out."


"Never mind, Vonones," Lycon reassured him. "They're good enough to go after the lizard-ape's scent. You know damn well that most of them will be dead meat once they find the thing." As we may well be. 


 


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Framed