by John White
"I know one thing," Wes said. "It wasn't me, and it wasn't even the sword that destroyed those things. Gaal (lid it-"
Betty interrupted him with a screech. She hopped up and down, and her eyes shone. "I did it! It worked! It worked!" she said over and over. She almost sang the words. "I did it! It worked! "The Friesens were about to ask "What worked?" when a deep voice called from the direction of the lake.
Some distance out from shore, a wooden raft bobbed on the bright water. Two paddlers either sat or knelt on it. The deep voice called again, but the raft was too far away for the children to understand the words. The two figures on board were strong paddlers. Their raft made good time toward the shore. When it was close enough for the paddlers to be clearly seen, Betty shrieked, "What are they? They look horrible! Are they human or what?"
"They're Matmon," Lisa explained. "Haven't you ever seen Matmon before? Oh, that's right, how could you? Sorry."
The two Matmon, who had appeared to sit or kneel on the raft, were actually standing. They looked like misshapen men, but not in any cartoonish or comical sense. Both were adults about as tall as Kurt. They had large, deep chests, big bellies (though you wouldn't call them fat) and short arms and legs. Both had long white beards. Their clothing was obviously homemade: simple garments of dark wool and leather, including tall boots with tops that flopped over. At their feet were two leather bags like primitive backpacks. The raft itself was constructed of logs with the bark still on, lashed together with ropes. Though both logs and ropes looked coarse, the raft itself was tight and skillfully made.
Kurt got excited. "We haven't seen Matmon since ... since ... I don't think we've seen them since the day of the wedding!" Wes and Lisa frowned. They thought Kurt meant the wedding of Uncle John and Aunt Eleanor, which brought up all the painful tensions since then. Kurt hurried to explain, "I mean the big party for the wedding of King Kardia and Queen Suneidesis, over there in the city of Nephesh. Do you suppose ... oh, gosh, I hope it's Gunruth and Inkleth!"
Lisa asked, "Would they still be alive? Of course, Matmon live three or four hundred years. But that depends on when we're here."
Wes squinted. "I don't think it's them. We need to be careful. Remember what Uncle John told us about some of the first Matmon he ever met. They ambushed him and tied him tip in a cave on the orders of Lord Lunacy."
Betty almost screamed. "They did what? Let's get out of here! Now!"
"Don't worry. That was a long time ago," Kurt assured her. "The Matmon are followers of Gaal now." Then he remembered the sticky problem with time.
The raft was close enough for the children to make out the words of one of the paddlers. He pointed at the treetops and called out, "Which way?" His companion turned to him and said something inaudible, something that appeared to startle the first Matmon.
The raft floated into shallow water. Both Matmon used their paddles to pole. With a couple of strong pushes they ran their craft aground. Its free end continued to bob on the waves while they steadied it with their paddles.
"Young strangers, is it?" said one of the Matmon to the other. "From where do you suppose they come?" His voice was rough. His beard, though mostly white, was streaked with reddish brown. Suspicious eyes looked out from beneath a thatch of hair, which was also a mix of white and reddish brown.
The other Matmon looked older because his beard and hair were silvery white. He answered in an equally rough voice, "Why not ask them, Ildreth? No doubt they can speak for themselves. Are they not Regenskind?"
The three Friesens felt a stab of joy at the word Regenskind. The very term gave them pride. They stood up straighter. "We are indeed Regenskind," stated Wesley. Regenskind were what the people of Anthropos called human beings. They were descended from the Regents, whom the Changer had sent to rule Anthropos.
"From where do you come?" inquired the older Matmon. "From Glason? From Playsion?"
They hesitated. They knew of Glason and Playsion, but they could claim to be from neither. Finally Kurt said, "We're from someplace else you may have heard about. A lot farther away than either of those places." Wes wanted to tell his brother to keep quiet. He would stay on his guard until he had reason to trust these Matmon.
Ildreth, the younger of the two, did not believe Kurt. He pointed out, "You have not the weary and unwashed look of those who have been on a long journey." His words surprised Lisa. She thought they must all look terrible after the insect attack. Then she remembered that they didn't have any sting marks, and again she wondered why.
Kurt was annoyed that Ildreth didn't believe him. He blurted out, "We're from a far-off world called Canada!"
Ildreth roared with laughter. "Canada! What place of makebelieve is that? Do you hear the boy's wild imaginings, Shamith?" He turned to the older Matmon, who did not laugh. "I have heard of such a place," Shamith said simply. Ildreth shut down his laughter.
Shamith looked directly at Lisa. "What say you, young lady? Does your friend here speak the truth? Do you come from this faroff world of which he speaks?"
"He's not my friend; he's my brother," Lisa answered. She thought she could at least avoid the question for a minute. While she tried to think of what to say next, she saw both Matmon's crinkled eyes grow large and round. They stared past the children at the heap of dead giant insects.
"How came it that they are all dead?" Ildreth demanded.
"Wes here killed them," explained Kurt. He wanted his brother to get the credit. He hoped Ildreth and Shamith would be impressed.
Shamith asked quickly, "And none escaped?"
"Yeah, a few. They went that-a-way," Lisa answered. She pointed into the woods and giggled. It sounded like something out of a corny Western movie.
The faces of Shamith and Ildreth went blank, at least as blank as the weather-worn and leathery face of a Matmon could. They glanced at each other. Ildreth's voice was tight as he said, "You have slain thousands of royal weaver bees! King Tiqvah is in need of them! How shall he obtain silk for thread and rope? How is he to have honey to soothe-" Ildreth stopped himself as though he had said too much. Anyway, the Friesens had quit listening at the words King Tiqvah.
"You mean Kardia and Suneidesis's son?" Lisa asked. "He's the king now?" They had known Tiqvah on a previous visit to Anthropos. He was about Wes's age. Gaal sent the Friesens on a mission to rescue Tiqvah and Suneidesis when a witch imprisoned them in a cave beneath the sea. Later Tiqvah's father, King Kardia, died after the battle with the dragon at the royal lodge on Lake Nachash. When the Friesens left Anthropos, Tiqvah was about to begin his rule under the wise guidance of his mother. The Friesens couldn't wait to see him again-a boy-king who was also their good friend!
Shamith did not hide his scorn at Lisa's question. "Indeed we speak of King Tiqvah. How could anyone not know of him? For close to three decades he has reigned over Anthropos-since long before any of you were born."
Close to three decades! The children were stunned into silence. They tried to sort out the passage of time. In Canadian time it had been only a little over a year since they last saw Tiqvah.
Ildreth's eyes narrowed. "I see this news displeases you. Had you hoped to find some other reigning in his stead?"
Betty had been totally lost through this conversation. Now she blurted out, "I didn't expect to find anybody reigning in anybody's stead!"
What happened next might have been a scene from that corny Western movie Lisa thought of, except it was all too real. Both Matmon stepped quickly from raft to shore. Ildreth grabbed Wes and Lisa and held one of them tightly in each arm as in a clamp. Shamith grabbed Betty and Kurt in the same way. They pulled the children onto the raft. They were calm, efficient and impossible to resist no matter how much the children struggled and dragged their feet.
The Matmon muttered words like "Traitors!" "Anarchists!" "Rebels!" as they pinned the children face down on the splintery logs. Somehow they managed to open their leather packs and extract some cord, with which they bound the children. They stepped away, p
icked up their paddles and pushed off. The raft, with six aboard now, started back across the lake for the far shore and the capital city of Nephesh.
Lisa gasped, "Where are you taking us?" She hoped the Matmon would take them to King Tiqvah. He would recognize them and release them instantly.
`.. There is only one place fit for enemies of the king!" Ildreth growled. "Where else would we take you?"
"King Tiqvah knows us," Kurt insisted. "He'll explain everything."
Both Mattison snickered. Shamith said, "Tiqvah knows you not. Thirty years I have served him. I can swear you have never been in his royal presence."
"It was way back a long time ago! When he was a kid himself!" Lisa protested.
Ildreth lifted his paddle from the water and stared at Lisa. "The king-a young goat? What madness is this?"
"Goat? No, no, by `kid' I mean we knew him as a boy-about the age of Wesley here."
She knew how absurd it sounded. The children hadn't even been born when Tigvah began to reign, not if you counted Anthropos time.
Wesley managed to raise his head and shoulders and twist around to look back at the shore they had left. If only he hadn't put the Sword of Geburah back in its scabbard and leaned it against a tree. He was sure the Matmon hadn't noticed it. They were too intent on the bodies of the insects-weaver bees, they called them. Wes's neck and shoulders ached. He would have to turn and lie prone again.
Just before he turned away, he caught sight of motion on the shore. Along the water's edge fluttered something like a piece of white paper blown by the wind. It behaved oddly for something windblown, for it bounded along the shore in one direction and then suddenly reversed and went the opposite direction. Now and then it rose a foot or so from the ground, fluttered in a tight circle and dropped again. It didn't look like a piece of paper. It looked like ...
Wesley's heart leaped. It was a bird, a white pigeon! On other visits to Anthropos the children had been guided and helped by a white pigeon. Was this the same one? Why didn't it fly out to join them on the raft?
The pigeon landed on the shore and looked out across the water. Wes could not be sure, but he thought the bird cocked its head to one side as though it studied the situation. He did not see it fly again. As the expanse of water widened between shore and raft, the pigeon faded to an insignificant white speck and disappeared.
Wesley groaned. Why hadn't the pigeon flown out to help them? Maybe it wasn't the same pigeon that had helped them before. Maybe it was only an ordinary bird. Even as he groaned, a warmth came into his body, a warmth that was deeper than sunshine. He put his forehead on the log raft, closed his eyes and waited.
Ildreth and Shamith paddled with power and skill. The raft surged forward with each joint paddle stroke and rocked gently as it lost momentum before the next stroke. The four prisoners stayed quiet, occupied with their own thoughts.
Kurt wanted to sit up and face forward. He wondered if one of the Matmon would smack him with a paddle if he tried. Slowly he scooted around and eased himself upright. To his relief Shamith and Ildreth paid no attention. Kurt studied the shiny pale cord that bound his wrists. It was little more than string! He could easily break it! The Marmon were intent on their paddling. Kurt tried to pull his hands apart-though what he would do even if he got his hands free, he didn't know. The thin cord held fast. Kurt tugged with short pulls. He strained with longer pulls. His wrists showed painful red lines and began to swell. The cord did not break.
To Wesley the cord looked familiar. He had once climbed a rope ladder woven of that same indestructible material. Shamith had said something about Tiqvah not being able to get silk for rope because the weaver bees were dead. So those vicious insects spun this stuff, like silkworms!
Ahead the lake water ruffled with little whitecaps, and beyond it he saw the walls of a city that must be Nephesh. A stiff breeze hit the raft's front quarter. As the wind picked up, cold water splashed up over the sides of the raft.
Lisa, Betty and Wes struggled to sit upright like Kurt. They all scooted closer together toward the raft's center. With their hands and feet bound, they would be helpless if the raft capsized.
The Matmnon dug in and paddled harder. They had sea legs. They stood with feet wide apart and let their short lower limbs roll with the motion of the raft. Lisa felt queasy. She tried to focus on the far shore, which is often a good remedy for seasickness. She frowned. The far shore had disappeared. A dense fog had swirled in to obscure the walls of the city.
"You're not going to head into that fog bank, are you?" Lisa asked the Matmon. They ignored her. At least they didn't threaten her, so she tried again. "We could lose our bearings out here. If the wind gets too strong and we-if we capsize, nobody will find us! And-and we can't swim all tied up like this!" Ildreth and Shamith still ignored her fear. She begged, "Turn around, won't you? Don't head into the fog!"
"Silence! I see no fog," snapped Ildreth at last.
"We're headed straight for it! I think it's coming toward us!"
Shamith snorted. "The little fool attempts to trick us. Pay no heed."
Lisa turned to the others for help. They only looked bewildered. Kurt said, "Don't try to kid them, Lisa. You'll only make them mad."
"Kurt's right. Knock it off, okay?" Wes added sharply.
"You mean you don't see it?" Lisa stared ahead. How could they not see the thick cloud approaching fast, dense and impenetrable, yet somehow lit from within with a grayish-blue glow-Blue light! Was it possible? But why couldn't the others see it? Lisa fastened her gaze on the low thick mass that rode the surface of the lake. No matter if nobody else saw it. She knew it was real. Gaal, she pleaded silently, I'm sure you're there, I'm sure it's you. Help us!
The fog bank rolled toward them. In seconds it would swallow the raft. At the last instant it veered off and swept past only a few feet away. Lisa turned her head and watched it recede across the surface of the water. For a while it hid the shore where they had been captured. Then it faded and dissolved.
Lisa looked forward. The city wall of Nephesh loomed high and solid just ahead of them. A wooden pier jutted out from shore, where several Matmon were busy at work on small boats. They looked up and shouted questions, first about the weaver bees, then about the strange passengers on board. The raft touched the pier to the accompaniment of startled cries. "You have bound the Regenskind! What is their crime? How did you capture them? Who are they?" The two Matmon said nothing as they took their time tying up the raft. Clearly they enjoyed their status as captors of the strange group of four.
"Stand up!" Shamith ordered the children. Though their hands and feet were still bound, they managed to obey. But when Ildreth told them, "Step out onto the pier!" Wes asked, "How do you expect us to walk?" Their captors grumbled but admitted he was right. From their packs they produced short knives with bone handles and began to slice at the cords on the prisoners' feet. The job took some time.
Once the four children were lined up on the pier, Ildreth and Shamith told their story. Their version was so overblown that the children fought not to interrupt. Not that they had much chance, for the two Matmon interrupted each other often. They crowned their tale with the account of how, outnumbered four to two, they overpowered the Regenskind and transported them back to the city to be brought to justice, which was only what any Matmon loyal to the king would do.
Betty couldn't keep quiet at this. She wailed, "What do you mean, brought to justice? Lisa! Wes! Kurt! What do they mean?" Ildreth ordered her to be silent. The Friesens tried hard to remem her what happened to prisoners who were brought to justice in Anthropos. Prison? Execution? If only they could be taken to King Tiqvah! He would recognize them and release them at once. What if they never saw him? What if he never found out who they were?
Ildreth and Shainith marched their captives along a narrow road between the lake and the city wall. The road and the wall eventually curved away from the lakeshore, and the party soon arrived at a massive wood-and-iron gate in the city wall.
Young human soldiers with swords at their sides stood guard. Kurt, Wes and Lisa scanned the soldiers' faces. If only they could recognize a friend. But how could they? Three decades had past since they had last been in Anthropos.
One soldier stepped forward and greeted the Matmon. "So the royal beekeepers have returned. It appears you caught other prey besides the escaped swarm." His face hardened. "Who are they?"
The children raged inside as the Matmon started a new version of their story. In this version the Matmon were even more heroic, and their prisoners were even more sinister. The soldiers soon lost patience. "Enough!" harked the one who had stepped forward. He flicked a hand, and another soldier muttered something through a hole in the wall. A section of stone swung out to reveal a passageway. Into this opening the soldier disappeared, and immediately the door closed-but not before a whiff of cooking smell drifted out from inside the city wall.
Kurt felt a sharp pang of hunger. Beef, potatoes and bread waited in the kitchen back home. He almost moaned "I'm starving!" but stopped himself. His complaint would only make the others hungrier.
Lisa felt as exhausted as Kurt felt hungry. She backed up against the sun-warmed stone wall. Betty leaned next to her and asked in a desperate whisper, "Where are we? What's going to happen to us?" Lisa could only whisper back "We're outside the city of Nephesh. I don't know what's going to happen." Sharp glares from the soldiers cut off the girls' conversation. Lisa thought, It's like we're criminals on the Most Wanted List.
One soldier turned to the Marmon and raised his eyebrows in a questioning manner. "You boast of how you captured the bee slay ers. Yet you say nothing of how the swarm escaped in the first place."
Another soldier, very young, mumbled something that sounded like "Lucky."
"What was that?" snapped his superior.
The offender stumbled to explain: "I said-I meant to say, some fanner will be lucky to find the swarm in his barn."