Key Out of Time

by Andre Norton

  10

  Death at Kyn Add

  The hour was close to dawn again and a need for sleep weighted Ross'seyelids, was a craving as strong as hunger. Still restlessness hadbrought him on deck, sent him to pacing, alert to this vessel and itscrew.

  He had seen the ships of the Terran Bronze Age traders--small craftcompared to those of his own time, depending upon oarsmen when the windfailed their sails, creeping along coasts rather than venturing too farinto dangerous seas, sometimes even tying up at the shore each night.There had been other ships, leaner, hardier. Those had plunged into theunknown, touching lands beyond the sea mists, sailed and oared by menplagued by the need to learn what lay beyond the horizon.

  And here was such a ship, taut, well kept, larger than the Vikinglongboats Ross had watched on the tapes of the Project's collection, yetmost like those far-faring Terran craft. The prow curved up in a mightybowsprit where was the carved likeness of the sea dragon Ross had foughtin the Hawaika of his own time. The eyes of that monster flashed with aregular blink of light which the Terran did not understand. Was it asignal or merely a device to threaten a possible enemy?

  There were sails, now furled as this ship bored on, answering to thesteady throb of what could only be an engine. And his puzzlement held. AViking longboat powered by motor? The mixture was incongruous.

  The crew were uniform as to face. All of them wore the flexible pearlyarmor, the skull-strip helmets. Though there were individual differencesin ornaments and the choice of weapons. The majority of the men didcarry curve-pointed swords, though those were broader and heavier thanthose the Terran had seen ashore. But several had axes withsickle-shaped heads, whose points curved so far back that they nearlymet to form a circle.

  Spaced at regular intervals on deck were boxlike objects fronting whatresembled gun ports. And smaller ones of the same type were on theraised deck at the stern and mounted in the prow, their muzzles, if thesquare fronts might be deemed muzzles, flanking the blinking dragonhead. Catapults of some type? Ross wondered.

  "Rosss--" His name was given the hiss Loketh used, but it was not theWrecker youth who joined him now at the stern of the ship. "Ho ... thatwas strong magic, that fighting knowledge of yours!"

  Vistur rubbed his chest reminiscently. "You have big magic, sea man. Butthen you serve the Maid, do you not? Your swordsman has told us thateven the great fish understand and obey her."

  "Some fish," qualified Ross.

  "Such fish as that, perhaps?" Vistur pointed to the curling wake offoam.

  Startled, Ross stared in that direction. Torgul's command was thecentermost in a trio of ships, and those cruised in a line, leavingthree trails of troubled wave behind them. Coming up now to port in thecomparative calm between two wakes was a dark object. In the limitedlight Ross could be sure of nothing save that it trailed the ships,appeared to rest on or only lightly in the water, and that its speed wasless than that of the vessels it doggedly pursued.

  "A fish--that?" Ross asked.

  "Watch!" Vistur ordered.

  But the Hawaikan's sight must have been keener than the Terran's. Hadthere been a quick movement back there? Ross could not be sure.

  "What happened?" He turned to Vistur for enlightenment.

  "As a salkar it leaps now and then above the surface. But that is nosalkar. Unless, Ross, you who say you are from the sea have servantsunlike any finned one we have drawn in by net or line before this day."

  The dolphins! Could Tino-rau or Taua or both be in steady pursuit of theships? But Karara ... Ross leaned against the rail, stared until hiseyes began to water from the strain of trying to make out the nature ofthe black blot. No use, the distance was too great. He brought his fistdown against the wood, trying to control his impatience. More than halfof him wanted to burst into Torgul's quarters, demand that the Captainbring the ship about to pick up or contact that trailer or trailers.

  "Yours?" again Vistur asked.

  Ross had tight rein on himself now. "I do not know. It could well be."

  It could well be also that the smart thing would be to encourage theRovers to believe that he had a force of sea dwellers much larger thanthe four Time castaways. The leader of an army--or a navy--had moreprestige in any truce discussion than a member of a lost scouting party.But the thought that the dolphins could be trailing held both promiseand worry--promise of allies, and worry over what had happened toKarara. Had she, too, disappeared after Ashe into the hold of theFoanna?

  The day did not continue to lighten. Though there was no cottony mist ashad enclosed them the night before, there was an odd muting of sea andsky, limiting vision. Shortly Ross was unable to sight the follower orfollowers. Even Vistur admitted he had lost visual contact. Had the blotbeen hopelessly outdistanced, or was it still dogging the wakes of theRover ships?

  Ross shared the morning meal with Captain Torgul, a round of leatherysubstance with a salty, meaty flavor, and a thick mixture of what mightbe native fruit reduced to a tart paste. Once before he had tasted alienfood when in the derelict spaceship it had meant eat or starve. And thiswas a like circumstance, since their emergency ration supplies had beenlost in the net. But though he was apprehensive, no ill effectsfollowed. Torgul had been uncommunicative earlier; now he was looser oftongue, volunteering that they were almost to their port--the fairing ofKyn Add.

  The Terran had no idea how far he might question the Hawaikan, yet thefuller his information the better. He discovered that Torgul appearedwilling to accept Ross's statement that he was from a distant part ofthe sea and that local customs differed from those he knew.

  Living on and by the sea the Rovers were quick-witted, adaptive, with ahighly flexible if loose-knit organization of fleet-clans. Each of thesehad control over certain islands which served them as "fairings," portsfor refitting and anchorage between voyages, usually ruggedly woodedwhere the sea people could find the raw material for their ships.Colonies of clans took to the sea, not in the slim, swift cruisers likethe ship Ross was now on, but in larger, deeper vessels providing livingquarters and warehouses afloat. They lived by trade and raiding,spending only a portion of the year ashore to grow fast-sprouting cropson their fairing islands and indulge in some manufacture of articles theinhabitants of the larger and more heavily populated islands were notable to duplicate.

  Their main article of commerce was, however, a sea-dwelling creaturewhose supple and well-tanned hide formed their defensive armor andserved manifold other uses. This could only be hunted by men trained andfearless enough to brave more than one danger Torgul did not explain indetail. And a cargo of such skins brought enough in trade to keep anormal-sized fleet-clan for a year.

  There was warfare among them. Rival clans tried to jump each other'shunting territories, raid fairings. But until the immediate past, Rossgathered, such encounters were relatively bloodless affairs, dependingmore upon craft and skillful planning to reduce the enemy to a positionof disadvantage in which he was forced to acknowledge defeat, ratherthan ruthless battle of no quarter.

  The shore-side Wrecker lords were always considered fair game, and therewas no finesse in Rover raids upon them. Those were conducted with acold-blooded determination to strike hard at a long-time foe. However,within the past year there had been several raids on fairings with thesame blood-bath result of a foray on a Wrecker port. And, since all thefleet-clans denied the sneak-and-strike, kill-and-destroy tactics whichhad finished those Rover holdings, the seafarers were divided in theiropinion as to whether the murderous raids were the work of Wreckerssuddenly acting out of character and taking to the sea to bring war backto their enemies, or whether there was a rogue fleet moving againsttheir own kind for some purpose no Rover could yet guess.

  "And you believe?" Ross asked as Torgul finished his resume of the newdangers besetting his people.

  Torgul's hand, its long, slender fingers spidery to Terran eyes, rubbedback and forth across his chin before he answered:

  "It is very hard for one who has fought them long to believe
thatsuddenly those shore rats are entrusting themselves to the waves,venturing out to stir us with their swords. One does not descend intothe depths to kick a salkar in the rump; not if one still has his witssafely encased under his skull braid. As for a rogue fleet ... whatwould turn brother against brother to the extent of slaying children andwomen? Raiding for a wife, yes, that is common among our youth. Andthere have been killings over such matters. But not the killing of awoman--never of a child! We are a people who have never as many women asthere are men who wish to bring them into the home cabin. And no clanhas as many children as they hope the Shades will send them."

  "Then who?"

  When Torgul did not answer at once Ross glanced at the Captain, and whatthe Terran thought he saw showing for an instant in the other's eyes wasa revelation of danger. So much so that he blurted out:

  "You think that I--we--"

  "You have named yourself of the sea, stranger, and you have magic whichis not ours. Tell me this in truth: Could you not have killed Vistureasily with those two blows if you had wished it?"

  Ross took the bold course. "Yes, but I did not. My people kill no morewantonly than yours."

  "The coast rats I know, and the Foanna, as well as any man may knowtheir kind and ways, and my people--But you I do not know, sea stranger.And I say to you as I have said before, make me regret that I sufferedyou to claim battle rights and I shall speedily correct that mistake!"

  "Captain!"

  That cry had come from the cabin door behind Ross. Torgul was on hisfeet with the swift movements of a man called many times in the past foran instant response to emergency.

  The Terran was close on the Rover's heels as they reached the deck. Acluster of crewmen gathered on the port side near the narrow bow. Thatodd misty quality this day held provided a murk hard to pierce, but themen were gesturing at a low-riding object rolling with the waves.

  That was near enough for even Ross to be able to distinguish a smallboat akin to the one in which he, Karara, and Loketh had dared the seagate of the Foanna.

  Torgul took up a great curved shell hanging by a thong on the mainmast.Setting its narrow end to his lips, he blew. A weird booming note, likethe coughing of a sea monster, carried over the waves. But there was noanswer from the drifting boat, no sign it carried any passengers.

  "Hou, hou, hou--" Torgul's signal was re-echoed by shell calls from theother two cruisers.

  "Heave to!" the Captain ordered. "Wakti, Zimmon, Yoana--out and bringthat in!"

  Three of the crew leaped to the railing, poised there for a moment, andthen dived almost as one into the water. A rope end was thrown, caughtby one of them. And then they swam with powerful strokes toward thedrifting boat. Once the rope was made fast the small craft was drawntoward Torgul's command, the crewmen swimming beside it. Ross longed toknow the reason for the tense expectancy of the men around him. It wasapparent the skiff had some ominous meaning for them.

  Ross caught a glimpse of a body huddled within the craft. Under Torgul'sorders a sling was dropped, to rise, weighted with a passenger. TheTerran was shouldered back from the rail as the limp body was hurriedinto the Captain's cabin. Several crewmen slid down to make anexamination of the boat itself.

  Their heads came up, their eyes searched along the rail and centered onRoss. The hostility was so open the Terran braced himself to meet thosecold stares as he would a rush from a challenger.

  A slight sound behind sent Ross leaping to the right, wanting to get hisback against solid protection. Loketh came up, his limp making himawkward so that he clutched at the rail for support. In his other handwas one of the hooked swords bared and ready.

  "Get the murderers!" Someone in the back line of the massing crew yippedthat.

  Ross drew his diver's knife. Shaken at this sudden change in the crew'sattitude, he was warily on the defensive. Loketh was beside him now andthe Hawaikan nodded to the sea.

  "Better go there," he cried. "Over before they try to gut you!"

  "Kill!" The word shrilled into a roar from the Rovers. They started upthe deck toward Ross and Loketh. Then someone leaped between, and Visturfronted his own comrades.

  "Stand away--" One of the others ran forward, thrusting at the tallRover with a stiffened out-held arm to fend him out of their path.

  Vistur rolled a shoulder, sending the fellow shunting away. He went downwhile two more, unable to halt, thudded on him. Vistur stamped on anoutstretched hand and sent a sword spinning.

  "What goes here!" Torgul's demand was loud enough to be heard. Itstopped a few of the crew and two more went down as the Captain struckout with his fists. Then he was facing Ross, and the chill in his eyeswas the threat the others had voiced.

  "I told you, sea stranger, that if I found you were a danger to me ormine, you would meet the Justice of Phutka!"

  "You did," Ross returned. "And in what way am I now a danger, Captain?"

  "Kyn Add has been taken by those who are not Wreckers, not Rovers, notthose who serve the Foanna--but strangers out of the sea!"

  Ross could only stare back, confused. And then the full force of hisdanger struck home. Who those raiding sea strangers could be, he had noidea, but that he was now condemned out of his own mouth was true and herealized that these men were not going to listen to any argument fromhim in their present state of mind.

  The growl of the crew was that of a hungry animal. Ross saw the wisdomin Loketh's choice. Far better chance the open sea than the mob beforethem.

  But his time for choice had passed. Out of nowhere whirled a lacygray-white net, slapping him back against a bulkhead to glue him there.Ross tried to twist loose, got his head around in time to see Lokethscramble to the top of the rail, turn as if to launch himself at the menspeeding for the now helpless Terran. But the Hawaikan's crippled legfailed him and he toppled back overside.

  "No!" Again Torgul's shout halted the crew. "He shall take the BlackCurse with him when he goes to meet the Shadow--and only one can speakthat curse. Bring him!"

  Helpless, reeling under their blows, dragged along, Ross was thrown intothe Captain's cabin, confronted by a figure braced up by coverings andcushions in Torgul's own chair.

  A woman, her face a drawn death's head of skin pulled tight upon bone,yet a fiery inner strength holding her mind above the suffering of herbody, looked at the Terran with narrowed eyes. She nursed a bandaged armagainst her, and now and then her mouth quivered as if she could notaltogether control some emotion or physical pain.

  "Yours is the cursing, Lady Jazia. Make it heavy to bear for him as hiskind has laid the burden of pain and remembering on all of us."

  She brought her good hand up to her mouth, wiping its back across herlips as if to temper their quiver. And all the time her eyes held uponRoss.

  "Why do you bring me this man?" Her voice was strained, high. "He is notof those who brought the Shadow to Kyn Add."

  "What--?" Torgul began and then schooled his voice to a more normaltone. "Those were from the sea?" He was gentle in his questioning. "Theycame out of the sea, using weapons against which we had no defense?"

  She nodded. "Yes, they made very sure that only the dead remained. But Ihad gone to the Shrine of Phutka, since it was my day of duty, andPhutka's power threw its shade over me. So I did not die, but Isaw--yes, I saw!"

  "Not those like me?" Ross dared to speak to her directly.

  "No, not those like you. There were few ... only so many--" She spreadout her five fingers. "And they were all of one like as if born in onebirth. They had no hair on their heads, and their bodies were of thishue--" She plucked at one of the coverings they had heaped around her;it was a lavender-blue mixture.

  Ross sucked in his breath, and Torgul was fast to pounce upon theunderstanding he read in the Terran's face.

  "Not your kind--but still you know them!"

  "I know them," Ross agreed. "They are the enemy!"

  The Baldies from the ancient spaceships, that wholly alien race withwhom he had once fought a desperate encounter on the ed
ge of an unnamedsea in the far past of his own world. The galactic voyagers werehere--and in active, if secret, conflict with the natives!