Icerigger

by Foster, Alan Dean;

  Constant maneuvering in the high wind had finally cracked several of the top cross-spars and weakened the repaired fore­mast. Ta-hoding also wanted to fix the still-amputated bow­sprit, and there was no telling what the storm had done to the awkwardly repaired runner. They still had a long way to go and you couldn't tell when you'd need every square centi­meter of sail and solid, dependable runners.

  The little informal council met once again-on a much less anxious note than the last time. Suggestions were easily made, as easily rejected. It was finally agreed that they would take the time to put in at the first town or village which offered the raft protection from the westwind, a decent harbor.

  Ethan was on deck the next morning when the lookout gave the cry, so he was one of the first to see the monastery of Evonin-ta-ban. Ire joined Ta-hoding as the refuge came into full view, shining dark in the light of the fast-rising sun.

  "Odd-looking sort of place," said Ethan. "What is it? We haven't passed anything like it before. Surely it's not a hunt­ing or fanning community."

  "I do not know what it is, noble sir," the captain replied uneasily. "'Truly, I have ne'er seen the likes of it before. But Dagstev, the lookout, was right about the harbor. It looks to be sufficient ... at this distance, anyhow. There do not ap­pear to be any ships within, so it cannot be a trading com­munity. Very, very strange. Perhaps ... perhaps we'd best not land here, noble sir."

  "Glassfeathers. You've got to learn to face the cosmos with a more open mind, Ta-hoding. One of these days you may even skippership between the stars."

  The captain's reply was direct and left no room for se­mantic nitpicking.

  "Not if all the devils. that ever were got behind me and pushed, ,Sir Ethan!"

  "Why not, captain? Your own ancestors probably had the power of flight."

  "And had the good sense to give it up, .too," Ta-hoding countered religiously. "Give me a good ship with sharp runners, smooth ice beneath her keel, and a strong wind astern and I'll be quite satisfied. I leave the skies to those who wish then. And say nothing about their sanity, however question­able." He concluded on a note of finality and commenced barking landing orders to the crew. The _Slanderscree_ was angling for the harbor entrance and Ethan decided to leave the captain alone.

  One by one the wide sails were reefed in. He went below, roused September from his lingering breakfast and informed Hunnar, the du Kanes, and several others of their incipient landfall.

  Hunnar joined him and they ascended to the bow. Together they stared over the broken bowsprit.

  "Ta-hoding said he'd never seen anything like it, Hunnar."

  " Nor leave I, friend 'than, nor have I. But I find its aspect only unusual, not threatening. Though whoever built it surely had an eye to its defense. It seems impregnable. A strange place indeed."

  Such as it was, the harbor was simply a natural gap in the crust of the island. Fingers of dark, worn rock extended on two sides to embrace the slowing _Slanderscree._

  Except for some flat land to the right of the harbor, the entire island consisted of several sheer, jagged peaks that shot straight out of the ice to a height of four and five hun­dred meters.

  Low vegetation struggled in the shelter of the shadowy cliff-face. A band of the ever-present pika-pina was just visible as they entered the harbor, extending from the west side of the mountains into the wind. The flat area to their right appeared to be under intensive cultivation.

  Three-quarters of the way up the vertical basalt, cradled in a notch between the two highest peaks, sat an odd jumble of mufti-tiered structures which seemed to grow from the naked stone. The architecture was elaborate, far more so than any­thing Ethan had observed to date.

  Turrets and battlements he knew from Wannome, but these buildings also boasted spires, minarets, and even true domes -the first he'd seen on the planet. What looked to be a long, surprisingly spacious series of ramps and stairs began near the base of the cliff and ascended via a number of switchbacks to the lowest of the precariously situated structures.

  The single dock gave every indication of being carefully kept and maintained, if not often used. There were no ships tied up to it and none in the harbor. But the preservation and nearby cultivated fields were signs that the place was inhab­ited. At least they'd have a place to tie up and could forgo the trouble of utilizing the bulky ice-anchors. In the lee of the skytickling crags there was hardly a hint of wind. It was al­most calm.

  September joined then a silently, staring upwards until he

  risked a neck-crick.

  "Whoever put that pile of vertiginous masonry together, friend Hunnar, spent more than spare time at it. Without the aid of lifters. and impellers, and in this climate, I'll not hesitate in calling it a tremendous piece of raw engineering. Going to be a respectable hike to the front door."

  "You think we'll be going today?" asked Ethan.

  "I could not venture a prediction," put in Hunnar hastily, before the big man could verbally commit them to another arduous enterprise. "But if you will lower your eyes you will see that our arrival has not gone unobserved."

  A figure was coming toward the dock from the base of the stairway. Apparently male, the tran's stride was purposeful but not hurried. Open greeting, or forewarned is forearmed, mused Ethan. They watched the native with interest.

  He seemed in no way unusual. While his beard was longer than Hunnar's and whiter than Balavere's, the welcoming committee of one showed no other signs of advanced age. He was of average trannish height and built slimmer than most of the tran on board the raft.

  He wore only a long white fur, done up in a sort of toga arrangement, instead of the now familiar tran outer garment that snapped closed at the shoulders. It and its wearer were devoid of personal ornamentation-unless you counted the body-length staff in his right paw.

  At first Ethan thought it was wood, but as the native came closer he saw that it had been carved from some porous green stone. More importantly, the tran didn't seem the least bit afraid of them. That suggested once again either honest friendliness or the presence of ten thousand spearmen hidden in the rocks. As it developed, the more reasonable guess was correct.

  The landing ramp was put across. Hunnar, Ethan, and Sep­tember debarked while the sailors and soldiers on deck and in the rigging continued their tasks. Each kept a curious eye on their oddly-clad host's approach.

  Ethan was thinking it would be a good idea to have Ta­hoding present to handle any language difficulties. As it devel­oped, the captain's linguistic abilities weren't needed.

  "I am Fahdig, gentlesirs," he said. "And this is the monas­tery of Evonin-ta-ban. You are welcome here."

  "Our thanks," replied Hunnar. "I hight Sir Hunnar Red­beard, and these," he indicated the two humans, "are visitors from a far place, noblemen of another land: Sir September and Sir Fortune. We ask to remain within. your protecting harbor for a few days to effect needed repairs. If there is a harbor fee we can pay ... "

  The other gestured with the stone staff.

  "'There is no fee. The facilities of the monastery are open to any reasoning man. Few have ever been turned away want­ing. But it is for the Brotherhood to decide and not L"

  "I didn't know you had religious orders," whispered Ethan to Hunnar. The staff-bearer overheard.

  "Know I not what you mean, strange knight. The Brother­hood is an association of free spirits and minds, gathered in this place to preserve the knowledge and histories of the universe against the onslaughts of the Dark One. We are scholars, sir, not sychophants."

  "Starseeds," mumbled Ethan. "Wait til Williams and Eer­ Meesach find out we've stumbled onto a local society of researchers."

  September's comment was blunt. "Frankly, I couldn't give a damn about hove they built rafts or grew pika-ping. on this ice cube a couple of thousand years ago. ''hat's the sore of thing you're likely to find in these old storehouses of `knowl­edge.' Useless trivia.. Religious ruts, all right!" All of which, of course, seas declaimed carefully i
n Terranglo. "They just worship something other than a supernatural being, is all. Doesn't change their style from religious fanaticism to enlight­ened guardianship."

  "Well, they don't seem very fanatical to me," Ethan count­ered in Terranglo, as Hunnar continued to exchange pleasant­ries and information with their host.

  "Maybe it's not obvious, but ... " September granted. Ire looked heavenward to where windswept towers and steeples cad been hewn into the naked rock. "Anyhow I'd like a look-see inside their cubby. I admire good workmanship no matter what the source."

  September didn't have to translate his request. Unbidden, Tahdig had invited then to accompany hire to the monastery for the Brotherhood's ruling.

  "I hope they keep the haggling to a minimum," September grumbled undiplomatically in Trannish. "I, at least, am still in a hurry."

  "The decision-making should take but a heartbeat of time, gentlesir," replied FahdiQ. "Only long enough for the prior to satisfy himself as to your reason. Until then you are guests. The harbor is yours."

  "Before we start unpacking," pressed September, "how long before the Brotherhood and your prior can take action .on our request?"

  "Do but follow me and it shall be seen to as soon as we arrive."

  "Well, that's fine! Just fine." The big man turned, cupped hands to mouth.

  "Hey, du Kane! Hellespont du Kane!"

  The slim figure of the financier appeared at the railing of the raft.

  "Yes, Mr. September?"

  The big man switched to Terranglo again. "The lad, Hunnar, and I are going for a hike with his beardship, here! Seems we've run across a bunch of hermetic scholars! Harmless enough. We've got temporary permission to park here and make repairs, but we've got to make the walk-up to satisfy the local high mucky-muck we're reasonable ... whatever that means. Tell Ta-hodiing to get cracking on his work work and to keep an eye on the monastery ... that's what they call it. If he doesn't see my coat waving in the next hour he can go ahead and work full speed. Got that?"

  "I rarely misconstrue any information consigned to my care, Mr. September. Rest assured that I shall convey the mes­sage to the captain with the utmost precision. What if you should be detected gesticulating with your garments?"

  "Then he's to raise sail and get the hell out of here!" September snorted and turned to their guide, speaking in Trannish.

  "Ali right, friend Fahdig, let's go meet your Brotherhood."

  Ethan was quite sure that heights held no terror for him. He'd sipped cocktails on transparent balconies ninety stories above steaming swampland.

  However, he'd been completely enclosed in a comfortable tower suite at the time. It was rather different mounting hun­dreds of steps with a sheer drop of hundreds of meters on your right, then on your left. Almost unconsciously be edged away until he was walling with a decided preference for the section of stairway nearest the mountainside.

  The stairs themselves had been cut from the bare rock, an agonizing task that probably took more years than he cared to speculate at. At least ii was broad enough for several men or tran to walk side by side. So be didn't feel cramped. There was also -a wide, if low, stone railing on the cliffside.

  But as the raft, which now weaned to sit directly below them, and the harbor grew smaller and smaller, so did his stomach.

  Halfway up he found himself beginning to pant. September still looked. fresh, but Sir Hunnar was gritting his teeth at the pain shooting through his thighs and calves. The tran were not constructed for steady climbing. Fahdig, on the other hand, was clearly inured to the pain.

  There was no guard at the simple, solemn archway which framed the entrance to the monastery. The door was of un­adorned wood, through which Fahdig led them.

  Ethan spared a last glance over the side of the stairway. They were now nearly five hundred meters above the harbor. The raft was a child's toy resting on a plate of waxen crystal.

  Then he was through the door and standing in a darkish, tomb-life hallway. Lamps glowed along the walls even though it was bright day outside.

  "Kind of a gloomy atmosphere you fellas take to," said September as they strolled down the hall.

  "We are in the lower levels of the monastery," their guide informed them. "As we go higher it will become lighter. Win­dows here are neither necessary nor would they be structurally sound."

  Fahdig was as good as his word. They soon, found them­selves walking through well-lit high-beamed rooms and halls. Occasionally they encountered another of the Brotherhood, some older, some younger than their guide. A few were mere cubs. They reacted to the presence of the humans with a lot more open surprise than had Fahdig. A few stopped to stare after them long after they'd passed by.

  "I didn't see an ice-path outside," September said to Hun­nar. "On the stairway."

  "I am not surprised, friend Skua. There are limits to any tran's skil with dan and chiv. Coupled with a tricky breeze and sharp turns, such a steep descent would tax the skill of the most accomplished soldier. Nay, even of a dancer."

  "I thought so. But there could be other reasons why they've dispensed with it. Aesthetic, maybe, or ascetic."

  "That is possible," the knight agreed. "It may be con­sidered virtuous among them to move only on foot."

  They hadn't been walking too long before Fahdig bade them wait outside an iron-banded door. He disappeared within, reappeared several moments later.

  "The Prior will see you now." They followed him in.

  Ethan didn't know what to expect.-another throne room, perhaps, like Kurdagh-Vlata's. But the root n they entered was plainly furnished, without being Spartan. Only the wide, richly carved and polished table hinted at wealth of any hind. A few chairs completed the alcove's furnishings.

  They were obviously in one of the upper levels of the mon­astery now. Light poured in through windows set in the eastern and southern walls. But most of the illumination came from the skylight, another first for Tran-ky-ky.

  The startling feature, however, was the walls. From floor to ceiling on all sides, save the one they'd entered from, the walls were solid with shelves, crammed row upon row with

  meticulously kept, neatly aligned books.

  He'd encountered tough, long-wearing paper of pika-ping fiber in Wannome but very little. The Sofoldians seemed to prefer vellum and parchment for writing, since the fibrous paper was difficult to write on without constant blotting.

  Obviously the Brotherhood had solved that problem. Or else it had been solved for them, because the open books on the table were filled with neither parchment nor vellum.

  He whispered to September. "We'd better reconsider be­fore bringing Williams or Eer-Meesach up here. We might never drag them away."

  "Huh!" September gave the shelves a quick survey. "Won­der if they just collect and store there, or if they really bother to read any."

  The prior himself turned out to be. a placid-looking old tran. He sported a beard much longer than Hunnar's. His mane was pure white and his manner pleasant and relaxed. If he was shocked by Ethan and September's appearance he was too courteous to show it.

  He also retained one of the ubiquitous staves. It rested against the table.

  "You'll forgive my not rising to greet you, gentlesirs. I am not in the best of health today."

  "We sorrow for you and wish your Priorship to recover vibrant as the winter wind," Hunnar said smoothly.

  The oldster smiled a little. "Fahdig has told me of your magnificent ship and your request to remain with us for a few days. And of your haste."

  "Especially our haste," put in September. "Now, about this vote or whatever ... " The prior waved him down.

  "It will not be necessary to consult the Brotherhood, to­ draw them from their daily labors on so simple a matter. You may remain as long as you wish. Our fare here at Evonin-ta-­ban is simple but nourishing. Do us the honor of taking evening meal with us and enjoying our hospitality for a night!"

  Hunnar nodded before either of the humans could speak, so Ethan as
sumed the knight anticipated the food's being edible, if not up to the level of the royal chefs.

  "Retire now, gentlesirs, and leave me to rest. We will talk more tonight, of your plans and needs and journey."

  They walked out.

  "Thanks, Fahdig," said Ethan sincerely, "for your help in speeding things through for us."

  "Your thanks are welcome but ill-directed, gentlesir. No one `speeds' anything past the Prior. I merely repeated to hiln what you told me. He decided in your favor by himself."

  "You'd already agreed to let us stay the day," declared September. "What if he'd over riden that decision and told us to leave immediately?"

  Fahdig looked shocked. " He would not do that! Not even the Prior will counter a decision previously reached by a Brother. We live by reason and logic here. This trust in one another's rationality is an integral part of the Brotherhood."

  "Yeah, sure. But let's say he had ... differed severely with your evaluation of the situation."

  "Why then," said Fahdig, obviously struggling with an un­familiar concept, "it would be good manners for me to with­draw my recommendation."

  "The Prior keeps a _very_ impressive library," put in Ethan to change the subject.

  "Oh, that was not the Prior's library." Their guide seemed amused. "Twas merely the room in which he is studying today. There are a great many similar rooms in the monastery. All are filled with histories, studies, and scientific papers ac­cumulated over thousands of years."

  "I see," Ethan murmured. "There are two men with us of identical sentiment with the Brotherhood. One of your kind and one of mine."

  "Their profession makes them thrice welcome, then," said Fahdig.

  "Yes. What I want to know is, would it be possible for them to have a look through your libraries? They'd both be forever grateful."

  "Tis not often done with outsiders, 'out then few express the desire to share of our knowledge. Peasants! Most who stop at the monastery are of lower fifes, merchants and dealers with goods to barter."

  "I understand perfectly," replied Ethan with a straight face.