Another mystery, and though Harjeedian might be as knowledgeable as Doc about medical matters, it wasn't something about which Derian was going to question him. Nor was he going to ask Firekeeper. Even civilized women didn't welcome such queries when offered as an explanation of their moods. He'd learned that the hard way. It was quite possible that the wolf-woman would be angered further at the suggestion that she had a purely human weakness.
So Derian stored that new question away, and went off to bring Barnet and Firekeeper together.
He expected Firekeeper to fight the notion of learning Liglimosh, since it was something that Harjeedian wanted and the snake carrier was currently out of her favor—the little favor he'd been able to obtain by treating her seasickness. However, Firekeeper proved eager to learn the new language, fastening on nouns and committing them to memory with an eagerness that reminded Derian of her early efforts to learn Pellish.
She demanded other parts of speech as well, saying that nouns were little use when you couldn't say what you wanted to do with them.
"Like 'cut throat'?" Barnet suggested after a lesson on various parts of the body. "I can see your point. While I'm at it, I'd better include the words for asking 'what is.' As far as I can tell, it's your favorite phrase."
Derian felt himself growing jealous when he saw the comparatively easy time Barnet was having teaching Firekeeper this new language. Barnet noticed, and went right to the point one afternoon after Firekeeper had fallen asleep.
"Don't let how quickly she's learning bother you," Barnet said. "She's working from the foundation you put in place. You had to teach her the idea of a wholly spoken language, and that word order and all the rest mattered."
Derian forced a smile.
"Not that she pays much attention," he said.
"More than you think," Barnet said seriously. "I've noticed that she tends to drop words—especially articles—and mangle sentences only when it doesn't alter the meaning too severely. She's very, very careful when the meaning might be altered—at least when she cares about the issue—and that's pretty much whenever she bothers to speak. She isn't much for small talk."
"No, she isn't," Derian agreed, feeling better.
Barnet glanced at Firekeeper and confirmed she was really asleep, not just dozing.
"I'll make you a bet," he said.
Derian cocked an eyebrow.
"I'll bet you that Firekeeper refuses to refine her knowledge of Liglimosh any more than she did her Pellish."
"No bet," Derian said with a laugh. "If you can convince her of the need for proper grammar, you're a better instructor than I am."
Days melted into each other. For a time, the only indication that they were traveling at all was the varied shapes of the distant land. Then the weather became noticeably warmer, more so than could be explained by the mere passage of time.
"We're getting further south," Barnet confirmed. "I've talked to the sailors, and most of them have never seen snow—and what they have seen has been the result of a rare storm, the kind that's talked about for years afterwards. They've different plants in Liglim, and different animals, too. You think Harjeedian's snakes are big? I get the impression those are considered moderately sized specimens."
"How long until we come into port?" Derian asked.
Rarby happened to be passing by. On the whole, except for Barnet, the shipwrecked Islanders avoided the three captives. Now he gave Derian a tight-lipped smile that said he hadn't forgotten their fight in the hold of the riverboat.
"The captain says we're coming into port for fresh provisions tomorrow. You'll be kept on board, of course, but don't worry. We'll be at our destination by the end of the moonspan."
Derian fought a sudden desire to run. The moon had been on the wane last night. They didn't have long to wait.
A barely suppressed air OF excitement told more clearly than any announcement when Fayonejunjal drew near to her final port of call, but Firekeeper didn't need this to awaken her spirits from the final clinging wisps of despondency.
The air was filled with wonderful, heady, gloriously strange scents, the most dominant of which was rotting vegetation. Strange bird cries tantalized her ears, mingling with the more familiar shrill screams of the gulls. And there, close enough that she could see individual pebbles on the beach, was land—real, solid, unrocking land.
It hardly mattered that she would still be a captive once they were ashore. What mattered was that she would no longer be aboard this pitching, sliding, shifting, unpredictable ship.
Derian came and stood beside her.
"Harjeedian asked me to tell you that we would be taken ashore."
Firekeeper heard the odd inflection in his voice.
"Taken?"
"Remember how the New Kelvinese got around the city?"
"Carried by other people," Firekeeper replied, "on boxes between poles."
"They'll be using something similar for all of us," Derian said. "I expect that we'll be in—well—cages."
Firekeeper heard the tension and unhappiness in his voice, and knew it was not solely on her behalf. Derian didn't like the idea of being put in a box.
"Can we promise parole?" Firekeeper asked. "We have kept on ship."
Derian frowned. "I offered, but Harjeedian didn't want to take any risks—and he seems to be taking your threat not to be swayed by hostages pretty seriously. He's nervous now that we're close to those 'teachers' he keeps mentioning."
Derian had talked enough with both Harjeedian and Barnet by now to be fairly certain that the word Harjeedian translated as "teacher" meant something more, a concept that included "commander" or "superior," along with that of instructor.
"I talk to him," Firekeeper said. "Wait."
Derian might think she had paid no mind to Harjeedian since the day of the snakes, but in reality she had watched him closely. A wolf always paid attention to the will of the Ones, and in this situation, Harjeedian was very clearly a One.
She found Harjeedian in his cabin, settling his snakes into boxes that even her eye could see were beautifully made. Each snake had its own box, the interior padded with straw so the snake's scales would not be damaged.
"Harjeedian," Firekeeper said, pausing in the doorway. She hadn't violated his territory since he had warned her away, though privately she felt wronged.
The man turned, and she saw that he was dressed differently than he had been during the voyage. He wore fabric trousers, loose over hips and leg, but buttoned at the ankle. Over these was an equally loose shirt, the bindings heavy with embroidery in which the snake motif was frequently repeated. On his head was a small conical hat adorned with a sculpted snake. This coiled around the brim before making its way in lazy loops to rest its head on the top.
Even if Firekeeper had been inclined to be fooled by the loose tailoring—so unlike either the long robes of New Kelvin or the breeches, waistcoat, and jacket worn by men in Hawk Haven and Bright Bay—she would have noticed the sumptuous fabrics and come to the correct deduction.
"He is informal dress," Firekeeper said to Blind Seer.
"Yes, and if your dead nose is not warning you, he is as nervous as a new mother when her litter first emerges from the den. Take care."
Firekeeper did catch a whiff of Harjeedian's tension in his sweat, but even more she saw it in the tightness of his skin over his high cheekbones, in the way he narrowed his eyes at her, daring her to give him any trouble.
"Yes, Lady Blysse?"
The words were perfectly courteous in tone, but not in the least cordial. There was a guarded element as well, as if Harjeedian sensed the impending challenge of his will.
Firekeeper did not lock eyes with him, but looked humbly at his shoes. "Derian say you put us on land in cages."
"That is so," Harjeedian replied, not bothering to correct her wording as Derian—or even Barnet—would have done.
"We ask no."
"And I say it will be so."
"Why?"
"W
hy do I say so or why must it be so?"
"Why second thing."
"Because I do not wish anything to happen to you."
"Happen?"
"Like your getting lost or thinking you might escape."
Firekeeper tilted her head to one side.
"We give parole."
"I do not wish to find that this is the time you choose to violate that parole," Harjeedian said.
"I can promise again," she said, still doing her best to look humble.
"True," Harjeedian said, "but I also have no wish for any to see you before my teachers do. The cages will be covered for this reason."
Firekeeper frowned. She didn't like this at all, but she could see there would be no convincing Harjeedian without further persuasion. She made a move as if leaving, then paused.
"You be important for bringing us here?" she asked.
Harjeedian gave a thin-lipped smile.
"Yes."
"I think you be more important if we walk with you," Firekeeper said, "than if we in cages. If in cages, some say, 'I can do this thing. How hard is it to put wolf in box?' If we give you parole and we walk with you, then they think you have power."
Harjeedian's hands kept moving about their chores, but Firekeeper could tell she had given him a thought worth considering.
"And you would renew your parole?"
"Unless life is threatened," Firekeeper said, "by you or yours. Parole until we reach this place of teachers."
Harjeedian finished settling his last snake into its box and began tightening down the lids.
"Can I believe you?"
Firekeeper looked at him levelly.
"We give parole on ship. Land is not so different. We not know where we are, where to go. But choice is yours. We only ask."
She padded away then without another word, for though she was willing to ask Harjeedian to change his mind, she was not willing to beg. However, she was not surprised when shortly before Fayonejunjal docked, Harjeedian came and said they would be permitted to walk to their destination rather than be carried in the cages.
He recited a long list of rules for how they must behave, but Firekeeper only listened to these with half an ear. Her heart was singing at her victory, and beside her, Blind Seer panted with openmouthed approval.
The Fayonejunjal was so large that they were taken to shore in smaller boats rather than the ship coming in to the dock. Derian went with Barnet in one boat, while Firekeeper and Blind Seer traveled in another. The sailors in their vessel were all of Harjeedian's race, silent and unspeaking, the ease they had acquired with wolf and woman vanished now that they were restricted to a comparatively small boat.
Firekeeper, however, intended no trouble. What she had said to Harjeedian was true. What use would it be to run before she learned something of the lay of the land? Of course she knew in what direction was north, but that meant nothing if a large river or ravine blocked their way. For now she was actually content to be a captive, if seeming such would enable her to ultimately plan an effective escape.
The small boats grounded themselves directly on the sandy shore, grating against the bottom and coming to a rather jarring halt. Firekeeper was grateful for an end to the rowing, for though the rowers had been skilled, the motion of the smaller boat had brought a return of her nausea. She had no wish to have these new people's first vision of her to be of her on her hands and knees, vomiting up whatever remained in her stomach.
She leapt to shore as soon as the boat was grounded, only to make another unpleasant discovery. The ground would not stop moving. It pitched and dropped, much as the deck of the ship had done. She stood very still, bracing herself, biting back a wail of frustration and fear. Had the very land rejected her?
Nor was Blind Seer immune to this sensation, as he had been to the seasickness. He took a tentative step, and it was as if his foreleg buckled beneath him. He sat, then dropped to a lying position, and gave a slight whine.
"It will pass," Barnet said, sounding amused. The boat on which he and Derian had traveled was grounded a short distance down the beach. "Wait just a few minutes."
Barnet stood squarely on his booted feet, giving no impression that the ground was moving. Firekeeper looked over at him.
"Sure?" she asked.
"I promise," Barnet said. "It's not uncommon, even for veteran sailors, to feel the land moving after long voyages. It's just that your body is a bit slow to adjust. I promise that by the time the rest of the vessel is unloaded, you'll be yourself again."
Firekeeper wanted to ask who else could she be, but she thought she understood his meaning. She certainly didn't feel much like herself with her feet unsteady and her head swimming.
Harjeedian joined them. He had come ashore on the first boat, along with his snakes and Waln. The Islander now stood some distance down the beach, recording crates of goods as they were unloaded, every line in his body screaming his need to be thought important.
In truth, although Waln had worked his passage along with his fellows, his status had been different. He had often worked alongside the captain, and Firekeeper had heard them arguing the merits of hull designs, sail shapes, and navigational techniques. At first she had listened, trying to gather information that would help in an escape, but listening to them was like listening to wolves discussing subtleties of a scent trail. She simply lacked the means to even begin understanding.
Harjeedian took inventory of his captives, but not even the slightest smile twitched his lips when he saw how Firekeeper was struggling to adjust to being on land. For this she was grateful. Had he been in the least mocking, she might well have tried to rip his throat out, and piss on the consequences.
"We're here," Derian said. "Do we have much farther to go?"
Harjeedian pointed. "Do you see that building? The tall one?"
Firekeeper turned to follow his directions and noticed for the first time a strange edifice rising over the confused mass of foliage and stone that must be yet another variation on a human city. This building was like nothing she had seen, even in New Kelvin, a place that gloried in strange architecture. It rose in steps or layers, each somewhat smaller than the one below, so that the outer surface looked like an enormous, rather steep set of stairs.
"That building stands at the heart of our destination," Harjeedian said. "It is a long walk, but my teachers have arranged to have the thoroughfares cleared before us."
Firekeeper understood almost nothing of this, but she heard the pride in Harjeedian's voice. It was the pride of one who shared in a powerful pack and—perhaps truly, perhaps mistakenly—believed this made him powerful himself.
"We can walk," she said, taking a step and discovering to her surprise that this was true. "Blind Seer and I."
"Me, too," Derian said. "The ground has almost stopped moving."
"Then we go," Harjeedian said. "An escort is meeting us, and I remind you of your parole. You are not to threaten them, nor are you to go outside of the perimeter they set." Firekeeper shook her head and gave him a wolfish grin. "Big words, like a young wolf's howl, but I understand. Lead. We walk with you."
Derian saw Harjeedian's scowl and knew that Firekeeper had regained whatever ground she'd lost over Harjeedian's gibe about Blind Seer's safety. The wolf-woman knew it, too, and he thought that if she had a tail it would be held as proudly as Blind Seers's was at this moment, a jaunty plume rather than merely a trailing appendage.
However, whatever satisfaction he felt over his friend's victory simply intensified the emotions he felt at his first sight of u-Seeheera, the First City.
As far as architectural flourishes and fancies, u-Seeheera was far less overwhelming and astonishing than Dragon's Breath, the capital of New Kelvin. Indeed, u-Seeheera was less impressive than even a small New Kelvinese town. Yet, while the Liglimom seemed to lack the New Kelvinese taste for the fantastic, neither were they given over to the sense for practicality and comfort that dominated the majority of buildings in Hawk Haven and Brig
ht Bay. Instead the buildings of u-Seeheera seemed designed to proclaim monolithic stability.
Overall the buildings were constructed from glazed bricks. The exteriors were sharply angular, but contrasted and softened by the curve of arched doorways and windows. These were often built from bricks glazed in a contrasting shade, so a pale grey building might have doorways of bright blue or shining yellow.
Even had the bricks all been the more usual red, the buildings would have been kept from severity by the riot of growth that contrasted with the underlying brick. Vines surged up the sides of buildings, showering the stone with foliage and brilliant flowers. Planters held yet more flowers, and even slender trees. In many cases, the foliage was unfamiliar to Derian, but then he'd never been much for plants, other than noticing what could and couldn't be eaten—and enjoying the beauty of an occasional flower.
The road Harjeedian directed their escort to follow had been cleared of routine traffic, making its breadth even more impressive. The road had two sides, divided by a wide walkway that Harjeedian explained was meant for pedestrian traffic. The pedestrian walk alone was wider than most of the city streets in Eagle's Nest and was ornamented with planters. Sections of the walkway were constructed of brightly colored mosaic, often counterpointing similar designs on planters or nearby walls.
To this point in his experience, all of the cities Derian had visited had evolved—in some cases to the point of self-strangulation. This one had clearly been designed, and designed with either growth or an existing large population in mind.
Streets crossed each other at precise intervals, their surfaces paved with stone or brick. The paving stones showed deep grooves worn by carts. Where pavers had been replaced, the newer stones had been grooved in turn. Gutters ran alongside the curbs, testifying that at some times rain must fall very heavily in this area. The lack of filth in the gutters argued for good sewers or a well-managed street-cleaning system.
Wolf Captured Page 9