However, after these things had been done, one pleasure remained to be satisfied—the pleasure of visiting with friends. As Waln had explained to Shivadtmon, the venture of the Explorer had been nearly unique in post-Plague history in that it was a voyage into the unknown. The busy shipping trade in the Isles was from port to port, within the Isles themselves and—before the exile of Queen Valora—to numerous ports in Bright Bay. Merchant sailors might be away for long periods of time, but for all but the greenest, every port was, in a sense, a home port containing friends and family.
Some sailors took this last to extremes, having more than one spouse and set of children. However, as long as the arrangement suited all the parties involved, the law did not get involved. Only sailors who abandoned their families could expect reprimand, and this whether they had one family or three.
The convivial aspect of shore leave, then, was what the shipwreck survivors found themselves missing as soon as several days of relative freedom had blunted their initial excitement. Thus when Lucky Elwyn came wandering into the common area of the building where they still maintained their quarters and stated, "Let's go visit Barnet Lobster. I bet he's lonely!," he found a willing audience.
Teaching sessions were finished for the day, and so all seven spruced up their attire, braided their hair, and tramped up the hill to Heeranenahalm. They had all visited the temple city repeatedly by now. The disdum who made up the majority of their students delighted in showing off their particular temple complexes. Waln had, of course, been into Heeranenahalm numerous times when working on convincing u-Liall of the wisdom of the voyage north to "acquire" Lady Blysse, but even then he had always had an escort.
This was the first time any of them had gone through the elaborate gates unescorted, and most of them fell a little quieter than was usual.
Elwyn, however, maintained a blithe and relaxed spirit. He'd packed a basket with some of Wiatt's northern-style cooking and swung it from his right hand. His walk was heavy. His feet tended to slap the ground, but there was such joyful animation in his bearing that the local citizenry—now repeatedly assured that the fair-haired, fair-skinned northerners were not demons—tended to smile in response.
Waln thought about telling Elwyn to calm down, that they were going into an important place, but reassured by the Liglimom's reaction, he held his tongue. It was very important that he be in control—and very important that the others not suspect how great that control was.
They arrived at the Temple of the Cold Bloods unchallenged and unimpeded. Elwyn banged the bronze knocker—shaped, predictably, like a coiled snake—while the others stepped back and waited.
The porter opened his hatch immediately.
"Yes?"
"We're here to see Barnet Lobster," Elwyn said in careful Liglimosh. "We're from the north, just like him."
Waln thought the last completely unnecessary, but nothing was to be served by reprimanding Elwyn here.
"I shall send a runner to see if Barnet is in his suite," the porter said. "While you wait, please step inside."
At least they weren't being kept hanging about like petitioners, Waln thought with satisfaction. Indeed, they were treated rather like the guests the Liglimom had always claimed they were. Cool drinks were brought and they were offered seats on a bench in a pleasantly shaded area. True, the porter didn't make conversation, but he was probably a servant and careful to keep his place.
The runner returned just as they were finishing their drinks.
"Barnet Lobster would be happy to see you," he said. "Please, follow me."
They did so, Elwyn marveling aloud at the sheer number of reptiles—snakes, lizards, alligators, and like creatures sunning themselves on just about any flat surface. Where the living creatures were not, they were depicted in art: twining up pillars, hanging from gateways, clinging to walls.
Once Rarby reached to touch what he thought was a lovely jeweled figure only to have it hiss at him. Although their guide assured him the reptile wasn't poisonous, after that everyone kept their hands close to their sides—and watched where they stepped.
The infestation was worse than in any of the other temples Waln had visited, but then he supposed that one could not have bears or wildcats roaming around in the same fashion. Shivadtmon's temple had numerous pools for his damp charges and even places where the walls opened to the sea, but mostly it had to make do with artistic depictions rather than the real thing.
At last they arrived at Barnet's suite. The outer gate was open, but Waln's cynical eye saw how easily this comfortable set of living quarters could be converted to a prison. This made him feel better about his own prolonged captivity. Barnet might have been living in Heeranenahalm, but he hadn't been given free run.
They heard the music before they turned the corner, flute and some stringed instrument playing in counterpoint to each other. The melody was not one with which Waln was familiar. Indeed, it had a similarity to pieces played by the entertainers who had been brought in to play for them at their "guest quarters."
As soon as their guide came to the door, the music stopped.
"Visitors for Barnet Lobster," the man intoned, then stepped back to let them walk in.
Barnet's quarters included a small courtyard, complete with fish pond, slender trees planted in pots, and other elegant flourishes. Two doors at one end indicated the presence of other rooms. One of these stood ajar. The other was tightly closed.
As Waln walked in, he saw Barnet setting aside a guitar of some sort and rising to greet them. He also saw who had been the minstrel's accompanist.
She was a lovely woman with shining black hair like wet ink. Although slender, she had lovely curves, and Waln felt a momentary stab of disappointment that the loose blouses and trousers so practical in this hot, damp climate didn't show them off to better advantage. A gown such as had been popular at court in the Isles would have done her far more justice.
Waln realized he had seen the woman before, though not frequendy. However, he had long learned that knowing people's names and something about them could be used to his advantage. In a moment he remembered, and when he crossed the courtyard in a few long steps meant to emphasize his height and build, he had it ready.
"Barnet!" he said, putting out his hand in greeting. "We thought we'd come calling, now that our duties permit us some freedom. I believe I remember your companion. Rahniseeta, isn't it, sister of Harjeedian?"
The young woman had also risen and stood, still holding her flute. She dipped her head in the local equivalent of a polite bow, but did not offer her hand. Waln might have been disappointed by this, but then he realized that what he had taken for a bracelet about one firm and shapely upper arm was in fact a living snake. It raised its head and looked at him curiously.
"Waln Endbrook," Rahniseeta said. "My brother has spoken of you and your companions frequendy. I know names. Let me see if I can match them to the right person."
Waln, always sensitive to nuances in the game of one-upmanship, allowed Rahniseeta a point. She had taken his remembering her and matched it with the information that she not only remembered him but knew of his companions as well. That she had also made clear that she was her brother's confidante—and perhaps informant as well—protected her from any indecent behavior. Very clever…
But Waln doubted that the other men were admiring Rahniseeta's intelligence as she moved with supple grace to where she could see them more clearly.
"Two brothers," she said. "Rarby and Shelby. That would be you two gentlemen… "
She put two fingers to her jaw in a pretty gesture of concentration.
"I think you," she said, indicating Rarby with an inclination of her head, "are Rarby, and this one is Shelby."
The men beamed and nodded. Like most siblings who bore a close resemblance to each other, they both liked and hated being taken for each other. Rahniseeta's correct identification had pleased them mightily.
"You must be Wiatt," Rahniseeta said to the cook, "and yo
u Tedgewinn. The chef and the carpenter. Harjeedian has spoken many good things about both of your skills."
"Thank you, good lady," Wiatt said. "I'd be more than happy to cook you a northern-style fish stew if you're interested. Thought Barnet might like a taste of home, too."
Barnet grinned. "That would be wonderful. I like the local dishes just fine, but you have a way of getting the most out of a fish."
Tedgewinn, who was staring at the snake coiled on Rahniseeta's arm, blinked as if coming out of a dream. Waln was willing to bet that his next carving would be of a woman similarly adorned.
Better take care that Wiatt and Tedgewinn don't get flattered into thinking they might do better staying here, Waln thought. I need every able sailor I can get if I'm to get to Misheemnekuru—and home again with what I find there.
Rahniseeta didn't press Tedgewinn into speech, but turned to Nolan and Elwyn.
These two will be easy, Waln thought sardonically. How many of us have suffered a prolonged illness, and Elwyn… well, he's easy enough to identify.
Waln found himself wondering if Rahniseeta had actually handled her identifications by some process of elimination. Two who look like brothers, one sick, one awkward; two remaining then to identify. Telling a cook from a carpenter wasn't hard. And, of course, Rahniseeta would know who Waln was. Harjeedian had to have spoken of him—probably frequently.
Introductions completed, Rahniseeta stepped out and ordered drinks and refreshments. Sufficient chairs were found so that everyone could have a seat. This permitted Waln to learn that there were two other rooms to the setup, both bedrooms, one of which would have been used for Derian Carter had he not gone to u-Bishinti.
"Lady Blysse, of course, preferred to sleep out-of-doors," Barnet said with a laugh.
"Probably both of them wanted to get as far as possible from your snoring," Rarby said.
This brought on a general bout of laughter at the minstrel's expense. Then everyone was talking at once, sharing tales of what they'd been doing in the days since Fayonejunjal had come into port.
"Hard to believe we've only ended one moon and begun the next," Wiatt said. "Maybe it's all the teaching, but I feel like I've been here most of my life."
"I think it's the heat," Tedgewinn said. "Makes it feel like summer is farther along than it is. What is it, after all, Bear Moon? I feel like it's at least Fox Moon."
"How do your people name the moons, Rahniseeta?" asked Nolan. "One of my students tried to tell me, but we couldn't find enough words between us."
"They are named for various important events in the history of the deities," Rahniseeta said, "at least formally. Informally, they are often simply numbered."
"You mean First Moon, Second Moon, like that?" asked Elwyn.
"In the cities, yes," Rahniseeta said. "Farming people call them after what they must do then: Planting Moon, Thinning Moon, Weeding Moon. Things like that."
Nolan looked relieved. "No wonder I couldn't understand what Kidisdu Paliama was saying. I feel much better. I'd thought it was my fever making me think oddly, but if he was trying to tell me legend lore… "
Barnet looked interested.
"Your months are formally named for stories?" he asked. "I'd like to learn those stories."
"I can teach you them," Rahniseeta said. "Or maybe you should ask some of your advanced students."
"I can do both," Barnet said. "Variations are always interesting."
"What were you playing, Barnet?" Elwyn asked. "It sounded like a variation."
Barnet looked both surprised and pleased.
"It was, Elwyn," he said, "but I didn't think anyone would notice. I'm working on adapting 'The Tail of the Silver Whale,' to the scales more commonly used in Liglimosh music. Rahinseeta has been helping me."
" 'Bang! Down came the whale's tail, shattering the deck,'" Elwyn sang, his voice so off key that everyone winced." 'Bang! Down it came again. Now the ship was a wreck.'"
Barnet interrupted quickly by strumming a chord on his guitar.
"Here. I'll play it for you. First the familiar way, then how I've adapted it."
Waln watched the men's faces as they settled into the familiar ritual of letting Barnet entertain them. Contentment was the dominant emotion, though Waln caught Shelby sneaking a glance or three at Rahniseeta.
Guess he's forgetting the girl back home who broke his heart fast enough, Waln thought. Better be careful how I use that.
Tedgewinn had pulled a small block of hardwood from one pocket and his whittling knife from another. Hands fell to work shaping out what looked as if it might be a lizard, the sharpened blade cutting into the wood almost as if unguided, the carver's foot tapping along with the music, his lips shaping the lyrics.
After Barnet and Rahniseeta had finished their performance, Shelby and Rarby agitated for some dancing music. Most of the sailors were good dancers, but their figures bore only the slightest of resemblances to the elegant line dances favored in the cities. Although there was a similar interplay between partners, there was no flirtation, and the action was vigorous—almost combative—when compared with the formal styles.
Barnet switched to a flute for this, while Rahniseeta took up the guitar and chorded improvised—and slightly odd to Waln's ear—accompaniment. None of the sailors minded, and soon the little courtyard was crowded with the stamp of booted feet and loud laughter.
Waln took part, but when a break came, he excused himself. He had other things to do than idle about dancing. There were maps available for anyone's use in a library shared by the various temples. He thought he'd go take a look. There must be some of Misheemnekuru showing the location of various buildings. Time to start thinking about his target.
He wanted a place where hopefully more than one building remained standing. His sailors would balk at clearing away too much rock. Then too he wanted a place away from the shore, especially the western shore that faced the mainland. They'd be spotted too easily there. Best follow one of the waterways in a bit—even if that was forbidden turf.
Waln fully expected the yarimaimalom to show their displeasure, but he didn't intend to go unarmed. A few shots from a crossbow in the hands of humans who didn't share the prevalent awe of the beasts, and the Beasties would be deciding to let the humans be, especially since the humans would not be staying. Waln planned to tell the yarimaimalom so; he'd been working out the speech in Liglimosh.
Even if the Beasts decided to fight, the sailors were good with crossbows, and most could handle a longbow as well. Rarby and Shelby had done time on a whaler, and were dab hands with a harpoon. Waln figured that if they were going to acquire a vessel capable of taking them all the way back to the Isles, they'd be able to acquire weapons as well. He'd just tell Shivadtmon or whoever about the threat of pirates once they got farther north.
But that would wait. First he needed to study some maps.
The librarian on duty didn't question Waln's request. Waln had been all prepared to tell the librarian it had something to do with his teaching duties, and was actually disappointed to find the excuse wasted. The man even helped Waln carry the maps over to a secluded table where a big window provided ample light.
Waln unrolled several so a casual observer wouldn't be sure what he was looking at. Then he pulled out his dictionary and notebook.
First, someplace not too visible from shore. Next, someplace that listed a cluster of buildings. Waln found himself humming quietly to himself as he worked.
"'Bang! Down came the whale's tail, shattering the deck… '"
Chapter XIV
Even knowing that misheemnekuru was made up of a cluster of islands hadn't prepared Firekeeper for the amount of swimming that would be involved in getting from the island where they had first arrived to their destination.
Wolves can be strong swimmers when the situation requires. However, neither Firekeeper nor Blind Seer had done much more swimming than was required for crossing small rivers or cooling off in lakes. Fortunately, the route Dark
Death chose did not require them to swim any distance longer than they would have undertaken by choice.
What was odd about this swimming was how strongly the water tasted of salt, and the peculiar, persistent tugging of the current. Then there were the amazing things the tides did to the shoreline. Many times they were forced to wait until the waters lowered and gave them grudging passage between sections of the archipelago.
"Why do the ocean waters rise and fall like this?" Firekeeper asked during one such wait. "Often I have heard sailors talk about the need to wait on the tide, but never before this have I understood why."
"It is the doing of my namesake, the Moon," Moon Frost replied. "You have heard how she is the child of Water. Even now she calls to her father to make her whole. When she cries loudest, then he reaches to her and the waters recede."
Firekeeper wanted to snort in disbelief, but already she knew this would be more than merely impolite. It would offend. Therefore she asked another question, hoping to turn away from these explanations based on the almost comprehensible actions of divine forces.
"Is Misheemnekuru then all one land?" Firekeeper asked. "If the tide was low enough, would the divisions between the islands vanish?"
"No," Dark Death replied. "Some of the islands are far enough apart that they always remain separated from the whole. In the interior, though, this may be the case. When the waters drop, walking between the islands is like walking through valleys to reach the opposite hill. Except in the seasons of storm most of the animals can swim between the major pieces of land. The outer islands become nesting places for the birds and seals. It works out quite well for all."
"Well for all of us," Firekeeper agreed, finger-combing out the tangles in her drying hair. "Swimming in this salt water leaves my skin feeling tight, but at least my stomach remains my friend."
Blind Seer panted laughter. Firekeeper knew he was thinking about their eventual journey home and how there must come a time when she would commit herself once more to the discomfort of a shipboard voyage. However, it was easy for her not to think about such distant events. Too many interesting thoughts crowded all but the immediate present from her mind.
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