The Waters Rising

by Sheri S. Tepper

  “Hollow tiles,” said Genieve. “Justinian and I used to talk about all the ancient technology that we’d lost. He had many old books. This is a very ancient system. Some ancient people—I forget their names—heated their baths this way. There’s a fireplace outside, and it’s arranged so the hot air goes through the floors inside and then up a chimney. Several of the families up here have copied it. Justinian sent me the plans in a letter when I wrote to him saying how chilly it was here in winter when the wind comes in from the sea.”

  Xulai smiled. “Abasio heated his wagon in a similar way. He, too, has old books.”

  “Is Justinian all right, really?”

  “I believe so,” said Xulai honestly. “Truly, Genieve, I believe so. He’s simply gone where he can’t be bullied or used in any way by the evil people Abasio spoke of. We traveled as two brothers and Abasio grew a beard so no one would recognize us. I’m supposed to take that ship down there and sail to Tingawa. It is my father’s wish that I do this, as soon as I can.”

  “Your father?”

  Xulai stared intently at the woman across from her. Her father trusted this woman; she would also trust her. She laid her hand on Genieve’s, saying softly, “Genieve, I am Justinian’s daughter, Xu-i-lok’s daughter. You must not tell anyone. Not your servants, not your friends. To the rest of the world, I am only his messenger, but he would want me to tell you the truth.”

  The woman merely sat for a long moment, mouth open. “Did he tell you that we . . .”

  “He told me that you were his dearest friend. He told me that if he had not met my mother, you and he might have married. He could not help himself, Genieve. The match between him and my mother was a thing fated. Truly. And you must not mention to anyone that I am his daughter because everyone related to him is marked for death. Selfishly, I would like to avoid that, but evidently my survival is important to many others as well.”

  Genieve sat down, shaking her head. “But no one knew he had . . .”

  “No one knew he had a child. Exactly! Genieve, even I did not know I was his child until after my mother died. I didn’t even know she was my mother. I have grieved over my ignorance, but it was a secret, kept close, and we must go on keeping it. If anyone asks, I am simply a Xakixa—do you know what that is?”

  She murmured, “I’ve heard of it. There are Tingawans here. They have spoken of the custom.”

  “Good. Then you say that’s what I am. That’s why I’m returning to Tingawa.”

  “This man with you—who is he?”

  “His name is Abasio. He is a good man and a good friend who has saved my life several times. My father trusted him.”

  Abasio chose that moment to enter the room, pay his respects to Genieve, and make brief explanations. “We must get to Tingawa. The last ship is here, and we must take it. Do you have any idea where the crew or the captain may be?”

  “They are staying in the building that was occupied by the shipping office when the ships came in here. Before the waters rising made everyone move. They moved the shipping office, of course, but it’s still the building nearest the piers.”

  “How long ago was it that the town was moved?”

  “Two years ago. The piers have been moved twice since. They are about ready to move the wooden buildings again. They will not move the stone ones again. From now on, all buildings will be built on runners that teams of beasts can move uphill. When will the water stop rising?”

  Abasio shook his head, choosing to be soothing rather than truthful. “No one seems to know exactly. The people in Tingawa probably know better than we do. That’s another reason for our journey there.”

  “I wish someone would find out and tell the poor people who live by the sea. It’s a wearying thing, moving a town! Everything is so strange! Some of us rode out recently, down around this arm of the mountains, to take a look at the Big Mud. You know of it?”

  “A marsh, isn’t it?” Xulai asked. “I’ve seen it on maps. A huge swale, the size of a country, that accumulates rain and stream water, south of here.”

  “It was a marsh, yes. Full of ducks and stilts and storks and other wetland creatures, huge, as you say. Not a good place to get lost in. It has always been separated from the ocean by a seaside desert of low dunes, smaller than those on the Great Dune Coast, but the same kind of loose sand, moving with the wind. Now, at high tide, the ocean cuts through the dunes and runs into the Big Mud. It’s no longer merely a marsh. It has become a huge shallow lake! Some of the men said it is larger in area than the Highlands of Ghastain. Each tide washes more of the dunes away.”

  Genieve sounded more annoyed than troubled. Xulai followed Abasio’s lead, merely nodding while swallowing her surprise. It was better for the good lady to be annoyed than frightened to death.

  There was a knock at the door, and a very wide, white-aproned woman came in, her hair done up in a twisted kerchief. “Since you said they wasn’t fussy, ma’am, I’ve warmed something up.”

  “This is Mrs. Bang,” Genieve announced. “Please go with her and have a warm meal. We’ll talk again when you’ve finished, and meantime I’ll see to having rooms readied for you.”

  She went away, shaking her head slightly, worrying at the idea of Justinian away somewhere, in danger. Abasio and Xulai went in the other direction.

  Across the bay, on the ridge they had left only an hour or so before, a small carriage surrounded by an orderly pack of wolves arrived. Carriage and driver sat there for a moment while the driver stared at the rising waters and across at the pale blotch on the hillside that was all she could see of the white-towered building she was looking for. After a time, she detected the road to her left and she and the wolves started down the hill toward the road that led around the bay. No doubt there would be some game in those forests across the way that would feed her charges so she would not have to frighten the lady of the house.

  In Ghastain, Mirami was forbidden to leave her quarters, over her vehement protests. The following morning, when the king went to question her himself, she lay on the bed, barely breathing, a terrible smell coming from her with each exhalation, like rotten meat. At first, when closed in this suite of rooms yesterday afternoon, she thought she had caught Chamfray’s illness. Then she had wondered if the illness had not been directed at them both. Briefly, she had thought of Alicia, but she knew of no poison that did this, and very shortly later she was barely conscious and could say nothing. King Gahls fidgeted and fussed; one of his advisers suggested that this felicitous coincidence be put to use and the Tingawan emissary be summoned as witness. The emissary came to see that Mirami was obviously dying; she had not even the strength to deny she had killed Xu-i-lok when the question was asked. Though Precious Wind had long ago told them the truth, the emissary pretended to be satisfied. Bear was not the only vengeance seeker who was now following Alicia on her way back to the Old Dark House. Several very highly trained attachés to the embassy were keeping both Bear and Alicia company on the way.

  In Merhaven, late at night, when no one was moving about in the town, the shipping office of Tingawa in the person of the ship’s captain received a delegation: Precious Wind, whom he had met long ago; Abasio, whom he had not; Xulai, whom he knew of but had never met. The ship must be readied to leave, he was told.

  “Except for food stores, the Falsa-xin is ready. It has been ready for almost twenty years,” the captain growled. “My hair was black when we arrived here. The crewmen were young. We are older now, some of us have died; they’ve been replaced. The sails and cables have rotted; they’ve been replaced. We have a new mainmast. Last season we hauled her up onto the beach and scraped her bottom. I have almost renamed her Baywind instead of Daywind. Everything is as I promised my lord Lok-i-xan, head of Clan Do-Lok. We do not break oath.”

  “You will need hay,” said Abasio. “I’m taking my horse.”

  “Ridiculous,” said the captain.

  “Either he takes his horse, or I don’t go on the Daywind,” said Xulai
firmly. “Then you will have broken oath.”

  The captain took a deep breath and bowed slightly. “Of course, ma’am. Hay.” He should have expected this. Clan Do-Lok never did the thing expected. “Just one horse?”

  “We had another, and a mule. They will be cared for here.”

  “You will need a good deal of meat,” said Precious Wind. “I’m taking a dozen wolves.”

  The captain grimaced and looked at Xulai, his mouth agape.

  “Yes, she is,” said Xulai. “I’m taking my fisher, as well.”

  The furry thing on her shoulder wiggled its nose at the captain and remarked, “Actually, if you can do some fishing en route, the wolves and I can probably do very well on fish. Fresh fish is preferable to salt meat, certainly.”

  Though imperturbability was one of the requirements of command, the captain took a moment or two to admit to himself he had heard the creature speak. “Give me a day or two,” said the captain. “We didn’t plan on livestock. And, as for the wolves, do they need to be . . . caged?”

  “I shouldn’t think so,” said Precious Wind. “Not so long as they don’t get really hungry.”

  “About . . . sanitation?” the captain went on doggedly.

  “The wolves will poop where I tell them to poop,” said Precious Wind.

  “The horse likewise,” said Abasio, trying to control laughter. “Have you a poop deck?”

  “I don’t poop at all,” said the fisher in melancholy tones. “For some reason, it isn’t necessary for me.” Then, seeing the four pairs of eyes fixed wonderingly on him. “Well, one likes to experience everything, doesn’t one?”

  “No,” said Abasio firmly. “Fisher, there are many things you don’t want to experience. Loss, grief, pain for a start . . .”

  “Weariness,” said Xulai. “Trouble, hatred . . .”

  “Sending former friends into danger,” said Precious Wind. “Be content, creature. You are better off than most of us.” She turned to the captain. “Sir, aside from these unexpected quadruped guests, we will put you to no trouble. But, please, put it about in the town that you and your men are weary of waiting and have decided to return to your own country. Say nothing about anyone going with you.”

  The captain frowned at her. “And how do I explain hay?”

  “Say you’ve purchased a couple of fine horses to take home with you. Tell people they’ve been stabled over at the Watch House. The lady Genieve will confirm it, if anyone asks. As for whatever meat we take, it could be for the crew, and the fisher is right. Fresh fish is preferable to salt meat.”

  “It’s strange,” said the captain, “but the oceans are not as salty as they were in my youth. It’s easier now to soak salt meat and make it palatable.”

  They left the captain and rode back to the Watch House.

  “Is it true, about the oceans not being as salty?”

  Abasio nodded. “The deep waters rising had no salt in them. One could almost drink the ocean water now.”

  Genieve awaited them. “When will you go?” she asked.

  “A couple of days,” Precious Wind replied. “Will you come with us, Genieve? You would be welcome.”

  She shook her head. “I knew you would invite me, but no. No. My people are here. My children and grandbabies live nearby. They depend upon me. I will stay with them. I think it’s likely the waters won’t come much farther, not in my lifetime, at least. I remember Justinian telling me about Tingawa. The islands are mountainous, I know, but still, they are islands. Will you find any land left there, when you return?”

  Precious Wind answered. “Tingawa also extends onto the neighboring continent, ma’am. Much of that area is mountainous. The low-lying islands were being depopulated even before I left there. Those left are not so heavily populated that there would not be room for all Tingawans on the continent, if it becomes necessary.”

  “Still, I will remain here with my family and my people. They were my husband’s people, and before he died, he passed his duty toward them on to me.”

  “As it should be,” said Precious Wind approvingly. “Now, it may be that Bear—you met him, he brought you Justinian’s greeting here some days ago?”

  “The big, angry man. Yes, he did.”

  “If he returns, tell him we have gone but that another ship is coming for him from Tingawa. We cannot wait for him, but we will not abandon him or our people who are at our embassy here in Norland. Tell him to wait for us here. But do not talk to him or anyone about the ship that is leaving. Do not say we went aboard it. The captain got tired of waiting, and he left. He bought a couple of horses. You’ve been stabling them for him. He took the horses with him. Everyone in Merhaven will have heard of that before we go. Can you trust your people to stay silent about our having been here?”

  Genieve nodded, saying in a serious voice, “Only Dobbich and Mrs. Bang are here just now. Both are trustworthy. And when your friend comes, he may stay here with us. I will give him the message.”

  And that was all there was of it. A few nights later, the ship sailed in darkness, with no one to witness Blue’s difficulty getting through the door of one of the four little cabins opening onto the deck, now his stable. Three other cabins were for Precious Wind, for the wolves, and for Abasio and Xulai together. The wolves greeted the straw-bedded little room they were to use as a den with suspicion. Precious Wind threw a blanket upon the straw and lay down upon it. They lay down around her. If she was there, they were satisfied. When she knew the wolves were comfortable without her, she would sleep in her cabin. There was no hurry. She could sleep anywhere.

  There was no moon. The sky was overcast. Men at the capstan trudged silent circles, first to pull up the anchor that held them near the pier and then to pull the ship away from the pier by winding up the fat cable that led to a second, larger anchor sunk far out in the bay. Abasio pointed the big cables out to Xulai, reminding her of the rope nets holding the cliff villages in place. When they were above the larger anchor they trudged again, coiling that rope into its cable tier and hoisting the anchor into its chains. The captain gave his orders in a low voice; the seamen did not shout or whistle as they loosed sails and tugged them to catch the offshore wind, turning the ship and tacking it slowly out of the bay. When morning came, the ship had gone west beyond the edge of the world, and only one woman, standing alone in the tower of the Watch House, had seen it go.

  Far out in the western sea, as the sun rose, Xulai came on deck to see a familiar figure standing at the rail. She stopped, breathless, as he turned.

  “Father!” The word she had never used came without thought. She threw herself into his arms, feeling his wet face pressed to her forehead. “Where have you been?”

  “Xulai, Xulai, Daughter, oh, if you knew how long I’ve wanted to call you that . . .” They clung together wordlessly.

  Finally, she managed a coherent thought. “But here? Why didn’t we travel together? Why didn’t we—”

  “Shhh. We couldn’t.” His arms tightened around her. He held her away from him, looking into her eyes. “So many things I wished for that I couldn’t . . . Couldn’t let you know who you were. Couldn’t let anyone know. Couldn’t show you any affection more than I might show a stranger. But I’ve been here, child. I started the journey two nights after you left. Hallad, Prince Orez, arrived that same night to keep Woldsgard safe. This is where your mother told me to go, to keep me safe and to confuse things.” He wiped his eyes, half laughing. “Oh, didn’t we spend decades confusing things! I’ve spent so many years making false trails I may never be able to travel openly anywhere!”

  “How did you get here?”

  “I came south, within easy distance of the Old Dark House but west of it, along the mountains. A couple of my Men of the Mountain from the high north were with me for most of the trip, scouting ahead, cleaning up our trail behind. That’s one route, close behind the Old Dark House, where they’d never suspect I would go! From there, day by day, I kept on through the forests to the
Lake of the Clouds, then east to Elsmere and on to Merhaven, and then, at night, onto this ship. Years ago, Xu-i-lok wrote a letter for me to carry, telling the captain what to do with me. I have been just another of the seamen for some time now. Every now and then they have to take the ship out into the sea to be sure it’s still seaworthy. I am actually learning how to set sails and which rope to pull when they yell at me. It took some getting used to, being yelled at.”

  “You came all that way alone? But you didn’t go to Genieve?”

  “It was best so.”

  “Why didn’t we go to Tingawa years ago? Why didn’t we bring my mother? Why—”

  “Shhhh.” He drew her over to a covered hatch and sat her down upon it. “We followed plans, dear one, plans centuries in the making. Plans made by the clan Do-Lok. Oh, child, they’ve been trying to solve this one for over a hundred years.”

  “What ‘this one’?”

  “The problem of what mankind does with the waters rising. What does he do when there is no more dry land, dear heart? Oh, not in my lifetime or yours, but soon after. No way to stop the waters rising. No way to go back to the planet we used to have. No way to undo all the things we did wrong. Clan Do-Lok has been trying to work this one out for a very long time. You’re part of the solution, as was I. First Xu-i-lok and I, the man who loved her, to create you. Then you and Abasio . . . we had to wait for Abasio. He was a person they knew had to exist, somewhere. Statistics, they said. Statistically, he had to exist! First they had to find him! Then they had to get him to Woldsgard. We couldn’t leave Woldsgard until that happened. And it might not have worked. You might have hated him. Oh, I was so thankful to meet him, there at the gard, to know you liked him.”