“Fused into the light setting,” he said. “I wonder …”

  “Ask the Captain if he possesses any other of those weapons?” inquired the Ningan.

  “I have some weapons of this sort,” Sam replied, “but they are locked aboard the ship and we do not use them.”

  The Ningan did not press the point but took out a fold of willow paper from the pocket of her sleeve; she handed me a silkbeam copy mounted on plaited wood. It had been made in bright sunlight of course and posed in traditional fashion, in profile with the hands held before the body as if the persons were walking. There were three persons in the picture: on the left, a tall handsome Moruian, on the right a younger one, probably an omor; the middle person, who had not quite held the profile pose, was Scott Gale. I gave the silkbeam to the humans, who bent over it eagerly.

  “I know when it was made,” I said. “They have won the Air Race. See the decorations on the platform? On the left stands Blacklock—Mumo Pentroy—you remember, the one who makes jumps? The other Moruian must be Ullo Mattroyan, third place; child of the one who owns the steamship Esnar”

  Then quickly the Ningan pulled the long cord that held together the wish-basket, and it opened like a star-lily to reveal a wonderful profusion of colored cloth. The humans gasped with admiration; they saw the wealth of Torin.

  “These are poor gifts,” said Ammur, “and they cannot take your minds from the sickness of your sib, Scott Gale. But wear them and keep them as expressions of our friendship when you step aboard the Esnar”

  She gestured to Obal and to myself, and we began to display the gifts. There were three blue cloaks, woven of silk and wool floss and embroidered with cut-work sewn with brilliants. There were lengths of cloth in every weight, caps and sleeves and ribboned overboots and pouch-purses.

  I would never have guessed the use of some of this finery if I had not seen the castoff gear of the grandees at Itsik.

  “Thank the Ningan and the Leader for these beautiful things,” said Sam, as they all handled the cloth. “We must make gifts in return.”

  Lisa and Sam went to the store cupboards, and I spoke to Karen.

  “Will you go on this ship Esnar?”

  “Some of us must go, Yolo.”

  “Karen, you must take care….”

  Then the human gifts were brought, T-shirts, socks, suit-liners, chocolate, and the Ningan accepted them graciously. She was plainly delighted with her own gift of bail-point pens and the plio-film used for mapping. I began to realize that even I had come some way toward trusting her, and I was sure the humans had come even further. I carried a T-shirt to the servant Obal and presented it to him behind the Ningan’s writing chair. I knew that it was difficult for a Witness to tell a lie; it is part of their training. As II handed him the gift, I asked: “Have you seen Scott Gale?”

  He had only to blink his eyes to confirm some part of what the Ningan had said, but he stared into my face unblinking, bold, all shyness gone.

  The Ningan knew when to let things work. She rose and repeated her request for all the humans to sail to Rintoul, meet the Great Elder and help Scott Gale. Then she went away to give out the presents and let the humans talk. They did talk, loud and fast; it was too much for me to understand fully. I could not make out what they intended to do. “Too many variables,” Sam kept saying and I took it to mean, “Too many things we cannot know.”I They turned to me again.

  “Yolo,” asked Sam, “why are you afraid of this envoy?”

  “Ammur Ningan has much power. She is First Helper of the leader; she brings life or death.”

  “Can we trust her word? That was a solemn oath she took, wasn’t it?”

  “It was,” I said. “But I know that Tsorl would never trust her.”

  “Tsorl is not here,” said Sam.

  I knew then that he did not trust the Deputy; he saw the exile, the poor castaway. He had no real knowledge of the Deputy’s former place at the head of our town. I felt angry and helpless, but I did not speak up; it was as if the mere presence of Ammur had made us sly and cautious.

  “The ship is very safe,” I said. “No one can get into it if the doors are locked. The soldiers are afraid of it. Let us all go into the ship and speak on the outside broadcast to the Ningan.”

  “Why should we do that?” asked Sam. “No, Yolo, it’s far too threatening. We don’t want to frighten these guys. We have to go along with this Ningan and get to see Scotty.”

  “Yolo,” said Lisa, “whatever quarrel Tsorl had with these people it is not our quarrel … and it isn’t your quarrel either.”

  “Please,” said Karen. “Come with us to Rintoul.”

  “Yes,” I said. “Yes, I will come.”

  I wondered if they would have me swear an oath, like the Ningan; in my mind I swore by the City of Tsagul. II must stay with them and try to keep them from harm.

  Presently I went out and gave the word to the Ningan: the humans would sail on the Esnar.She was so pleased that even her eyes smiled. The time was past midday; for the rest of the time until the Great Sun set, we broke up camp and stored all the wonders of the place in the ship of the void, the Heron.I It was a sad time for me, but the humans and the Pentroy “envoys” were lighthearted. I took some pleasure in the Esnar,I which was a very fine vessel with a crew of seven Mattroyan sailors—fewer than usual because the vassals helped with the stoking of the boiler.

  Since it was a pleasure boat, the cabins were spacious; there was plenty of room in the forward tower for the humans, in a fine room hung with striped silk. In the after section there were two more large sleeping places with hammocks and a small hold. It struck me that we should still be a little crowded for the voyage.

  “Not so,” said an old Mattroyan hand, doing duty as sailing guide. “Look there, young Harn …”

  I saw that ten of the vassals, including the First Escort, Meetal Gullan, were settling down again on shore. They had made camp in the flattened place where the blue tent had stood. It was puzzling. I asked another question of the sail guide.

  “Where do we sail from here, friend?”

  “Secret orders,” it grumbled. “Shouldn’t read the skein until the Ningan hands it out after we sail. But it’s bound to be Rintoul… though maybe…”

  “Where else?”

  “Nowhere—mid-ocean …” said the sailing guide. “We might have to stand off the islands, that’s all.”

  I was still puzzled, though the sailing guide did expect to go to Rintoul. I looked about for the humans and found them at the tree platform where Sam was taking a last reading of the weather. It was not as pleasant as it had been; a wind was rising and a mist came off the sea. I went and stood with them; they were wearing their new Moruian cloaks, each in a different shade of blue; they had all slung the folds of the cloak to hang down their backs in a most un-Moruian fashion. They had their kitbags, ready to go aboard.

  “The guard?” said Sam. “Sure … the Ningan is leaving them to guard the ship, so far as I can make out. Only the poor guys don’t like to stand too close… .”

  It was time for the humans to embark. The young musician, Obal, played them aboard with his pouch-pipe, a medley of tunes from Torin and from Earth. The voyage took on something of the spirit of a pleasure cruise after all; the evening wind flapped at the flags and silk lilies. The EsnarI was slowly building up its steam ready to sail when the Far Sun rose. I went with the humans as the Mattroyan captain, a fat fellow with something of the house-servant about him, gave a tour of the ship. The Ningan, who had not much interest in ships, sat in the chart tent on the high bridge and scribbled with pens of every kind.

  There had been talk of a feast with Moruian food and delicacies from Earth, but no one felt too sure of a feast before trying the Great Ocean Sea. Lisa doled out pills to the humans, and they all sat in their cabin. I went on deck and made myself small in a corner by the after rail and stared at Tsabeggan. There was the old Tsatroy road, leading to the villa on the headland, where the setting sun would soon turn the symbol over the archway to living fire. There was the cone of the fire-mountain and the layers of the forest where Tsorl lay hidden. There was the Fish Cove, and the Little Fish Cove—I had taken up the tent but left the boat for Tsorl if he could use it.

  I saw a vassal come running down from the headland at the harbor mouth; they had been keeping watch all day from the Tsatroy earth works, the remains of a watch-tower. Now Meetal Gullan came from the camp and talked eagerly with the watch. She ordered a third vassal to the EsnarI and then set out along the Tsatroy wall to the headland herself. I watched these mysterious comings and goings with only a shred of interest until I heard the MATTROYAN crew grumbling. Lay back on the stoking? Delay the sailing until setting of Esder? What a time to set out!

  The gangplank was still down and there was still activity on shore. I went back into the place where the camp had been and walked on the paths a little to the east. No one saw me. I dropped down into the tall grasses and crawled until I came to the shelter of the crumbling Tsatroy wall that led up to the headland. I crawled uphill the whole length of die wall and came to the old watchtower. I lay in a nest of vines hardly a body-length from Meetal Gullan and the other vassals on watch. The Great Sun was hidden behind the rock headland across the harbor mouth; the last of the light was on the sea.

  “… to the southeast …” said the watch.

  ‘Trader, from what I can make out,” said Meetal. “Curse this glass!”

  “Ah, if this is your devil, Meetal … there’s a haul for you!” said the second watch.

  Meetal Gullan laughed like a wolf.

  “Yes, if this is Garl's ship—what was it called—we’ll have all four devils tight in our net.”

  “It was called the Beldan,”I said the first watch. “We were told the Beldan.I Spicewood trader.”

  “Should we tell the Ningan?” asked the second watch.

  “Not yet, let the ship come on,” said Meetal. “We’re in no hurry. If it makes harbor here, we’U take it. If it sails roundabout through these cursed islands, we’ll still be waiting here on shore.”

  I eased back through the vines and bent my head so that I could look at the darkening sea. I saw nothing to the southeast but mist and water; then a light. It was like the masthead light of a trader. I eased back farther and lay flat, pressing my whole body against the warm earth of Tsabeggan, as if to gain its strength. Scott Gale was not mad, and he was not in Rintoul. The Ningan’s story had been lies from beginning to end. Scott Gale was coming to Tsabeggan on the ship, out there in the darkness; he was coming to find his friends, just as Karen-Ru had hoped. This was Nantgeeb’s warning:I “shipI …I dangerI …” There were two ships: one, this Beldan,the spicewood trader, and the other, the Esnar,I a much faster ship sent by Tiath Gargan to catch Scott Gale’s companions.

  Yet, with all this knowledge, what could I do? Sam and Lisa and Karen were aboard theEsnar,I fast in the Ningan’s net. I did not know if they had a weapon among them. Worse than that—how would they believe me if I rushed back and raised the alarm? They were outnumbered; they could hardly fight their way off the EsnarI even if I persuaded them to try. The image of the BeldanI coming on steadily loomed in my mind. “If it sails roundaboutI …I through the islandsI …” And suddenly I had the answer.

  I crawled backward under cover of the old wall. The little darkness had fallen; the only light was from the Esnar’s riding lamps; the guards had no campfire. I bent low and sprinted along the paths to the sand dunes. There was Little Fish Cove and there in the reeds was my own boat.

  9

  Scott Gale

  There was the boat hidden well out of sight of the camp; I took it in my aims and ran with it. I launched it into the dark waters like a swimming mat and flung my body down upon it. We glided out together, the boat and I, past the reef of rock that sheltered Fish Cove, and into the open sea. When the gliding motion had ceased, I pulled on the starter string and the small powerpack began to hum;I I moved swiftly over the Great Ocean Sea. It was the time of the little darkness, the last rays of Esto had just faded leaving the waves black. I zigzagged about crazily for there was a heavy swell, and I strained my eyes to find that point of light from the approaching ship.

  Suddenly the boat jolted as if it had hit a rock and I felt myself being carried to the south. I was in the Round Current again, and it was stronger than the powerpack on its first setting. I pulled on the string again and the noise altered to a sharper humming. The boat, as I steered it with my body, began to gain on the Current and to run more easily against it. I saw the ship, still a long way off, then the waves rushed over me and I came up gasping. Still the boat bore on, fighting in the direction of the ship. It was the beginning of a wind and wave battle as difficult as the running of the channel between Hindan and Steen. There was nothing to be seen around me but the foaming tops of the waves, the dark, moist air of the sea, and overhead the stars.

  I drove on and on, breathing in the gaps between the waves like a swimmer and straining my eyes to penetrate the darkness. I thought I saw the ship once more and II drove the good brave boat on and on, the little man-made powerpack fighting against the might of the Ocean Sea as surely as the hefty equipment of a Mattroyan steam vessel. More than once the blunt nose of the boat flipped so high that it nearly overturned and I pressed down on it as hard as I could. I felt my strength going; I was tired and frightened. I saw myself collapsing across the boat, tired out, while it rushed out into the darkness without meeting the ship Beldati.

  There was a sudden lull, a patch of calmer water, and I slewed the boat around, hanging arms and legs off it to act as a brake. A dark wall rose up from the sea about four body lengths away. I was so bewildered that for a moment I did not realize that it was the ship.

  The BeldanI was sailing at a steady rate toward the unlit harbor mouth of Tsabeggan. I had a sudden picture of the ambush in that quiet place with the Pentroy vassals falling upon the crew of this trading ship. I pressed forward on the boat in a long curving burst of speed and came to the ship’s side. It towered above me churning water, and II stood up and beat with all my might upon the sturdy trader. I shouted aloud, and the wind and the darkness seemed to turn my voice into a whisper. I leaned down and twisted the string of the powerpack in such a way that a high screaming whine sounded through the night.

  “Stop!” I cried. “Nahoo the Beldan!I Alert! Danger! Pentroy on the island. Pentroy on the island!”

  So I thumped and shouted, and my poor boat squealed and when I could do no more I saw heads above me at the rail. The ship staggered in the water as they began to heave to; Moruian voices spoke among themselves and shouted questions to me. I saw a ladder and a boat sling come down so I shut off my powerpack and waited.

  An omor was climbing down, asking questions. I reached for her hand but the trader gave a lurch and connected with my head. I fell forward across my boat and lost my senses for a few seconds then came into a painful halfwaking state. I was being lifted, carried, dragged aboard. I beard a voice through the mist of spin and tiredness and it filled me with such joy that I fought off my wretched bump on the head.

  “Oh help!” I called in the human language. “Alert Scott Gale….”

  There was light now on the deck and all the people I could see were Moruians. Then the crowd parted, and he came through: I saw him at last. Scott Gale was there, dressed in a Moruian cloak; his beard had grown thick and black, and his eyes were bright blue, bluer than the sky or the eyes of his friend Karen-Ru. I looked another way and made out a Moruian face filled with wonder. It was a young male, almost a child, with broad square cheeks and bright hazel eyes.

  “Praise Telve and the spirits of fire,” I whispered. “Scott Gale … turn this ship back, sail around the shore of Tsabeggan. The harbor is full of Pentroy soldiers.”

  “Vassals!” said Scott Gale.

  “How did the Pentroy come to Tsabeggan?” he asked.

  His voice was deep and resonant, like the voice of Sam Deg. He spoke Moruian very well, but with a strong mountain accent.

  “They have come in a steam vessel, the Esnar”I I said. “The pleasure-ship of the merchant Mattroyan.”

  “Are my friends safe?” he demanded. “How are they? Is Karen okay … Sam, Lisa … ?”

  “They are fine,” I said in English, “but they believe the lies of the Pentroy.”

  “Who are you?” he asked. “Are you an islander?”

  “No,” I said. “I think my speech tells where I learned Moruian just as yours does.”

  I caught the eye of the young Moruian, and he laughed. There were good Moruian faces all around me and they all smiled.

  A round-faced “townee” said fussily, “Yes, yes truly, Escott Garl, this young person speaks truly. We can hear that she speaks in the accents of Tsagul, she comes from the Fire-Town.”

  “My name is Yolo Ham,” I said. “I am a helper in the strangers* camp. I am a castaway.”

  Then Scott Gale questioned me again about all kinds of things until my head swam, and the townee helper whose name was Ablo Binigan broke in.

  “Excuse me,” he said, “but this Yolo Harn is tired if not hurt. Let us take her below to the sleeping hold and give her a reviving drink.”

  “Is the ship heading away from the harbor?” I asked.

  “Yes,” said Scott. “Mamor, our Captain, has changed course. Your warning came in time.”

  So I went down with Scott and Ablo and the young male whose name was Dorn. The Beldan was a comfortable, ordinary trading ship, not half so fine as the Esnar,I the Mattroyan vessel. I drank my reviving drink in a big sleeping hold with hanging beds. Scott Gale was painfully anxious for his friends, and he took me through the strange story more than once.

  “Thirty armed vassals?” he asked.

  “A full thirty,” I said, “but only ten remain behind, if the ship sails, under this huge brute of an officer Meetal Gullan.”

  “I know how this one came by its name,” said Dorn.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22