“What they mean,” was Skilluck’s cynical comment, “is that they’ve figured out a way to rob us blind. Well, we have to go along with the deal; we have no choice.”

  Wellearn bit back his urge to contradict. Time would tell.

  IV

  “It grieves us all to learn of the death of our visitor Blestar,” Chard said to the assembled council. The foreigners dipped in acknowledgment, although Strongrip and Sharprong were reluctant and only a glare from Skilluck compelled them. Wellearn was still recovering from the shock of having to conduct his first-ever funeral, and in a far-off land at that. But the ceremony had been decent and respectful, even though the Wego tradition of committal to the ocean was unknown here, so Blestar’s corpse was fertilizing a stand of white shrubs.

  Now it was his duty to interpret some of the most complex statements he had ever heard in any speech. Chard and Shash had given him a rough idea in advance; nonetheless …!

  Still—he brightened—none of the others spoke Forbish, let alone this modern descendant of it, although he had the distinct impression that Skilluck often understood more than he let on.

  At all events, he had the chance to trim the list of the debate. He was determined to do so. He wanted his people and the Hearthomers to be friends; he wanted, in particular, to spend the rest of his own life here … not that he would dare risk admitting it. What he hoped was to be appointed resident agent for the Wego, and oversee a regular trade between north and south. So many benefits would flow from that!

  But he must concentrate, not rhapsodize. The discussion was likely to be a long one. The Hearthomers took refuge from the hottest part of the day, but the assembly had gathered in late afternoon, and might well continue throughout the succeeding night. He composed his mind and relayed Chard’s next remarks.

  “We have been told that winters grow colder and longer in your land. Since according to our observations the sun is growing brighter and hotter, we are faced with a paradox.”

  (“What in the world is he on about?” grunted Sharprong. “It doesn’t make sense!”)

  But Wellearn was gripped by Chard’s statement and anxiously awaiting what was to follow.

  “We know this because we have carefully calibrated the way in which certain substances change after exposure to concentrated sunlight under identical conditions, that’s to say, on a completely clear day. Cloudless days, of course, are growing fewer”—and several present glanced anxiously at the sky where yet more thunderheads were brewing—“but we keep up our experiments and we can be nineteen-twentieths sure of our conclusions.”

  (“Is he ever going to come to a point?” was Strongrip’s acid reaction.)

  “We can only deduce that more solar heat causes more clouds to reflect it and more moisture to fall at the poles as snow, which in turn reflects still more light and heat. At my laboratory the possibility can be demonstrated using a burning-glass and a block of white rock half-covered with soot.”

  Wellearn had seen that demonstration; he had not wholly understood what he was meant to learn from it, but suddenly a blinding insight dawned on his mind.

  (“Come on, boy!” Skilluck rasped. “You’re falling behind!”)

  “At a time when mountains here in the equatorial zone can remain snowcapped throughout the year, this is clearly a worrisome situation. Those among us who have never experienced ice and snow may doubt what I say, but I have felt how cold can numb the pads, seen how it affects the plants we here take for granted!”

  (“Why does he have to go on so?” growled Strongrip, but Skilluck silenced him with a glare.)

  “We must therefore anticipate a time when mariners from the far north will arrive, not driven hither by a fortunate storm, but because their home has become uninhabitable. Yet this need not be an unmitigated disaster. For if there is one thing we lack, then … But I’ll leave the rest to Burney.”

  (“I’ve been told about him!” Wellearn whispered in high excitement. “He’s the one-who-answers-questions, their most distinguished administrator! But I never saw him before!”)

  Burly, yet as tall as his compatriots, Burney expanded to full height as Chard lowered. He uttered a few platitudes about the visitors before picking up Chard’s trail.

  (“I know his sort,” Skilluck said contemptuously. “The politer they are, the more you need to brace yourself!”)

  “What we lack, and in lacking neglect our duty, is access to the oceans!” Burney stated at the top of his resonant voice. “Oh, we’ve done well by our founders in spreading their teaching across this continent; travel a moonlong overland and you won’t find a child of talking age who doesn’t grasp at least the rudiments of what Jing bequeathed! But we know there’s more to the globe than merely land, don’t we? Proof of the fact is that our visitors came to us from a country which can’t be reached from here dry-padded!”

  (“You told them that?” Skilluck snapped at Wellearn. “Oh you threw away a keen prong there!”

  (“I did nothing of the sort!” Wellearn retorted, stung. “Listen and you’ll find out!”)

  “Suppose, though, we were to combine the knowledge we’ve garnered with the skills of these strangers,” Burney went on. “Suppose the brave seafarers of the Wego could voyage free from fear of cresh; suppose on every trip they carried the knowledge which Jing instructed us to share with everybody everywhere, so that every one of their briqs was equipped not just with a northfinder—I’m sure you’ve been told of their brilliant development of that creature which can always be relied on to point the same way? Though it does seem,” he added with a touch of condescension, “they don’t realize that if they really had crossed the equator, as Wellearn appears to imagine, it would reverse itself.”

  (Amid a ripple of knowing amusement Skilluck fumed, “It doesn’t surprise me! After the flattery, the put-down!”)

  Burney quieted the crowd. “Perhaps that remark was unworthy,” he resumed. “At all events, we know these are an adventurous people, who take the utmost care to ensure that when they set out on no matter how risky a voyage they can find their way home by one means or another. Suppose, as I was about to say, they carried not only telescopes useful for sighting a promising landfall, but better ones suitable for studying the sky, and the means to prove to anyone they contacted how right Jing was in what he wrote!”

  (Applause … but Wellearn had to cede a point to Skilluck when he mused, “So they want to overload our briqs with chaplains worse than Blestar?”)

  “We therefore offer an exchange!” Burney roared. “I hope Captain Skilluck will accept it! We will share with his folk everything we know—yes, everything!—if the Wego will put their fleet at our disposal every summer for a score of years, to return laden with southern foods and southern seeds and southern tools, after carrying our message to lands as yet unknown! Now this is a grand scheme”—his voice dropped—“and there are countless details to thrash out. But we must first know whether the principle is acceptable.”

  (Skilluck looked worried. Wellearn whispered, “They do things differently here!”

  (“That’s obvious! He never tried to preside at a captains’ meeting!”)

  “I see there are doubts,” Burney said after a pause. “Let me add one thing, therefore. Assuming they accept our offer, then—if the winters at Ushere do become intolerable, as we may apparently fear according to what Chard has said—their people can remove hither and settle around the bay where their briq first made landfall. We would welcome them. Are we agreed?”

  A roar of enthusiasm went up, and among those who shouted loudest Wellearn was proud to notice Embery. But Skilluck gave a brusque order.

  “Tell him we need time to discuss this idea. Say we will be ready no sooner than tomorrow night!”

  Perforce, Wellearn translated, and the assembly dispersed with many sighs.

  “It’s a trap,” said Strongrip for the latest of a score of times. “There must be some snag in it we don’t see!”

  “I’ve been everywhere in the city and met many of the most prominent of these people!” Wellearn declared. “They take Jing’s teaching seriously—they really do want to spread his knowledge around the globe!”

  “That’s what frightens me most,” grunted Skilluck. “Blestar was bad enough; embriqing with a stranger who has absolute rule over what course I choose is out of the question!”

  “That isn’t what they have in mind!” Wellearn argued. “These people never travel the oceans—they want to hook on to someone who does, and that could be us!”

  “Budlings!” Strongrip said, and turned away in disgust.

  That was too much for Wellearn. Rising to his maximum height—which, since arriving here, imbibing vast quantities of creshban, and eating the best diet he had ever enjoyed, had noticeably increased—he blasted, “I invoke the judgment of my ancestors in the stars!”

  And bared his mandibles, which normally he kept shrouded out of ordinary politeness.

  Skilluck said hastily, “Now just a moment, boy—”

  “Boy?” Wellearn cut in. “Boy? I haven’t forgotten my oath of fealty to my captain, but if you can’t recognize a man who’s just become a man I’ll consider it void!”

  Following which he opened his claws to full extent, and waited, recklessly exuding combat-stink.

  At long last Skilluck said heavily, “It was time, I guess. You’re not a young’un anymore. But do you still want to challenge Strongrip?”

  “I’d rather we were comrades. But I must. Unless he accepts me for what I am, with all my power of judgment. I did,” Wellearn added, “invoke the honor of my ancestors.”

  There were still creshmarks on Strongrip’s mantle, but Wellearn’s was clear. Skilluck studied each of them in turn and said finally, “I forbid the challenge. Your ancestors, young man, are honored sufficiently by your willingness to utter it. Strongrip, deny what you last said.”

  He clenched his body into battle posture, mandibles exposed, and concluded, “Or it must be me, not Wellearn, you take on!”

  The stench of aggression which had filled the air since Wellearn rose to overtop his opponent provoked reflexes beyond most people’s control. Only someone as sober and weather-wise as Skilluck could master his response to it.

  Strongrip said gruffly, “He speaks this foreign noise. I admit he knows things I can’t.”

  “Well said, but is he adult, worthy to be our comrade?”

  The answer was grumpy and belated, but it came: “I guess so!”

  “Then lock claws!”

  And evening breeze carried the combat-stink away.

  “Captain!” Wellearn whispered as the general council of the Hearthomers reassembled.

  “Yes?”

  “Did you know I was going to be driven to challenge—”

  “Silence, or I’ll call you ‘boy’ again!” But Skilluck was curling with amusement even as he uttered the harsh words. “You haven’t finished growing up, you know!”

  “I’m doing my best!”

  “I noticed. That’s why I didn’t let Strongrip shred your mantle. He could have, creshmarks or no! So you just bear in mind your talent is for reasoning, not fighting. Leave that sort of thing to us seafarers, because at pith you’re a landlubber, aren’t you?”

  “I—I suppose I am,” Wellearn confessed.

  “Very well, then. We understand each other. Now translate this. It’s exactly what Burney most wants to hear. Begin: ‘We can’t of course speak for all the briq-captains of the Wego, but we will promote with maximum goodwill the advantages of the agreement you suggest, provided that at the end of summer we may take home with us tokens of what benefits may accrue therefrom, such as creshban, better cleanlickers, useful food-seeds, spyglasses and so on. Next spring we’ll return with our captains’ joint verdict. In the event that it’s favorable’—don’t look so smug or I’ll pray the stars to curse you for being smarter than I thought but not half as smart as you think you are!—‘we shall appoint Wellearn to reside here as our agent and spokesman. Thank you!’”

  V

  At every summer’s end the Wego captains came together for a bragmeet where the wise’uns too old to put to sea might judge whose briq had ventured furthest, who fetched the finest load of fish ashore, who brought the rarest newest goods traded with chance-met strangers. It was the high point not only of their year, but the chaplains’ also. For generations the latter’s influence had been shrinking, particularly since too many stars fell from the sky for most people to look forward to inhabiting one after death. But when it came to matters of ancient tradition, naturally they were called on to preside.

  This meet, though, was different. Now there was no boasting, only mourning. On land things had been bad enough, what with crop-failure, floods and landslips, but at sea they were infinitely worse. Braverrant had not returned albeit her master was Boldare, wily in weather-ways. No more had Governature with Gallantrue and Drymantle, nor—next most envied after Tempestamer—Stormock, whose commander had been Cleverule, sole among them to make two-score voyages.

  Nor Wavictor, nor Knowater, nor Billowise … and even Tempestamer herself had not reported back.

  Yet weather-sense warned them: the summer was done. The customary congress must convene.

  Frost on every tree, snow on the beach above the tide-line, even icefloes—but it was too soon! As Tempestamer closed the last day’s gap between her and the waters where she had been broken, uncertainly as though aware something was amiss, Wellearn gazed in horror at the shoreline through drifting mist.

  “Captain!” he cried. “Have you ever seen so much ice at this season, or so much fog?”

  “Never,” answered Skilluck sternly. “Maybe what your friends at Hearthome spoke of is coming true.”

  “I thought—our friends …?”

  “Those who have knowledge sometimes batten on it to gain power,” Skilluck said.

  “They spoke of partnership, not mastery!”

  “What difference, when we are weak and they are strong? Count me the briqs you see at Ushere wharf and argue then!”

  Indeed, the fleet numbered half its usual total, and the houses were white with rime and some were tilted owing to landslips, and the sky was dense and gray and the wind bit chill into the inmost tubules of those who lately had enjoyed the warmth of Hearthome.

  “What’s more, there’s nobody to welcome us!” Skilluck blasted, having surveyed the city with his spyglass. “They must have called the bragmeet, giving us up for lost!”

  Seizing his goad, he forced Tempestamer to give of her utmost on the final stretch towards her mooring.

  Shivering in the branchways, more of the Wego attended the bragmeet than ever in history, and while the wise’uns tried to present the summer’s achievements in a flattering light, kept interrupting to ask, “What use is that to us? Can we eat it? Does it help to keep us warm?”

  In vain the senior chaplain, by name Knowelkin, strove to maintain formality. The folk mocked the claims of those who had survived the unprecedented summer storms by staying close to home, like Senshower whose Riskall had belied her name by scurrying from inlet to sheltered inlet, like Conqueright who had pledged the reputation of his Catchordes on the chance of garnering vast quantities of fish only to find the schools weren’t running where they did. Almost as though they were hungry for news of doom the assembly listened in silence to Toughide and Shrewdesign, who told of icebergs sighted all season long further south than ever known before, fisherfolk driven into mid-ocean clinging to barqs unfit for any but fresh-water work, great trees torn loose by gales and set to drifting with the current, some bearing signs of habitation as though they had formed part of a house, a town or even a city. And when eventually they did make landfall, they reported, they found long tracts of coast abandoned to the dirq and fosq, the icefaw and snowbelong, whose normal range was half-a-score days’ journey poleward.

  “What we brought home from our voyage,” Toughide concluded soberly, “was no better than what we’d have got had we made due north.”

  The company shifted uneasily, but the chaplains preened. Now the meeting had settled down, they could remind themselves how hunger and anxiety invariably drove folk back to the faith and customs of their ancestors.

  But suddenly a roar cut through the soughing of icy wind among the boughs.

  “Who dared to summon a bragmeet without Skilluck? What misbudded moron told you Tempestamer would not ride out the worst of storms? Let him stand forth who called the meet before I came!”

  And the furious captain stomped into the center of the gathering, healthy-tall—taller than any Wego mariner in living memory—followed by Strongrip and Sharprong and someone whom the company had difficulty in recognizing: Wellearn. But a Wellearn transformed, bigger, huskier, and infinitely more self-confident than the callow youth who had set forth in spring.

  Knowelkin shrank reflexively at Skilluck’s intrusion, all the more because he and his companions were so obviously in good fettle. The captain fixed him with a glare.

  “You!” he said accusingly. “You took it on yourself to say I must be given up for lost!”

  “Not I!” the chaplain babbled, casting around for a way of escape, for combat-stink from Skilluck filled the air and he was weakened by fasting.

  “Liar!” hurled Toughide. “You insisted on the meet being held when we captains said to wait a while! You understand the calendar—you know the normal end of summer!”

  “But summer this year ended early! Surely a skilled seafarer—”

  “We’ve been in latitudes where there is no winter!” Wellearn shouted.

  “That’s right!” Skilluck set himself back on his pads, claws poised. “Nor any hunger, either! Look at us! Think we’re sick—weak—crazy—dreamlost? See any creshmarks on us? But I see one on you!” Reaching out quicker than Knowelkin could dodge, he nipped the chaplain’s mantle and provoked a squeal of pain.

 

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