Icerigger

by Foster, Alan Dean;

  Fahdig continued more cheerfully. "But if these compan­ions of yours are true scholars, I am sure the Brotherhood would be pleased to have them enjoy the results of many years' labor. Yes, consider it agreed!"

  "Thank you, Fahdig. I'm sure they'll be demonstrably grateful."

  "If knowledge is spread," intoned their guide a bit pompously," then _that_ is thanks enough, for it holds back the encroachment of the Dark One!"

  "Oh, absolutely," agreed Ethan.

  Fahdig accompanied them to the bottom of the switch­backs and said he would meet them there an hour before the sun disappeared behind the mountains.

  Hunnar formally accepted the Prior's invitation and they started back to the raft.

  Ta-hoding's anxious face conveyed more questions than a thousand words.

  "Everything is fine, captain," said September. "This place is run by a crowd of desiccated old bookworms. "Didn't see a spear or bow in the whole mausoleum. We've got permission to use the harbor for as long as we need. They won't give us any trouble ... Oh, one other thing." He paused. "We've* *been invited to supper."

  Ta-hoding raised his eyes meaningfully. " Up _there?"_

  "Did you think it was going to be catered?"

  "Then," the captain replied, "you will extend my regrets to our hosts for any absence. I must decline ... until you re­turn to us with another sky-boat. Your pardon." He shuffled off and began bawling out a crewman who'd mistied a knot.

  Their report drew a mixed reaction from the others. Bala­vere in particular found their isolated hosts too polite for his liking. But Hunnar reminded the General that the small farming and hunting villages they'd passed had seemed equally open and unmilitary. Clearly this area was not visited by such as the Horde.

  "We've also been extended the services of the monastery for this night, at least," he added. Ethan expressed his own pleasure at the chance to sleep in a real bed for a change. One that did not rock with the wind.

  Hellespont du Kane professed indifference, but Colette was plainly as excited by the offer as Ethan. Even if it meant a five-hundred-.meter ascent.

  When they received the news about the libraries, of course, there was no holding the two wizards, just as Ethan had pre­dicted. In fact, they insisted on leaving immediately and making their own way to the top.

  Hunnar argued mildly that arriving early might be con­strued as a breach of local etiquette. But Ethan and September disagreed, citing the unfailing kindness and open helpfulness of the Prior and Fahdig. Without waiting for an official de­cision, both Eer-Meesach and Williams vanished up the near­est hatchway.

  "That's the last we'll see of those two for a while," said Budjir gruffly. Ethan was surprised. Rarely did either of the squires offer an unsolicited comment.

  "Why do you say that, Budjir?"

  "I do not understand those two," he replied. "Their con­stant chatter hurts my head."

  "Don't let it bother you, Budjir," said September jovially, clapping the huge tran on the: shoulder. "Sometimes I find my­self in complete agreement with you. Now a tall tankard of needle and a shapely female, eh? .. "

  The squire grinned and the slitted pupils focused fondly on something in the far distance.

  Ethan observed this comradely by-play and muttered, "Communication ... it's wonderful," and turned to go to his own cabin to prepare himself for the overnight stay.

  Work on the repairs proceeded steadily and at a relaxed pace. There was no need to rush the workmen. This time they could make a decent job of the foremast, too. And while the temporary repairs on the fore port runner had held up better than anyone had a right to expect, Ta-boding was relieved at the chance to fix it properly.

  Timbers and bracing had been set up beneath the bow and the metalworkers were already beginning to rebolt the recalci­trant skate to the raft hull.

  That would be finished by the time it grew too dark to work. The broken spars, foremast, and bowsprit could be fixed tomorrow. On the open ice in an average wind the work would lave taken at least a week. In the protective shadow of the towering crags they could finish the same task in two days.

  The humans were not alone in their desire to experience a soft, stable bed. Most of the crew would have gone along too. But Hunnar and Ethan remembered the Prior's comments about his "simple but nourishing fare." Despite the old schol­ar's obvious willingness to share all, there was no need to overdo their welcome.

  So the overnight party consisted of the little band of humans, Hunnar and his two squires, and Elfa. The two wiz­ards were already on their way up. Still suffering from his arrow wound, general Balavere elected to remain on board.

  Fahdig awaited them at the cliff base. Isis clothing was the same white :robe, but he carried a lamp in case, as he put it, "some among you should find the climb excessively strenuous and wish to turn back with some light."

  As it turned out, everyone finished the ascent. Colette's fear of the black abyss to one side was openly evident. Ethan felt no shame in joining her in hugging the mountainside.

  Much to everyone's distraction, Elfa insisted on running and skipping alongside the inadequate stone railing, not to mention leaning over the edge and pointing out this or that unusual feature in the depths below.

  Once, laughing, she even climbed onto the rail itself. She walked along the narrow stone coping, teetering on the lip of the drop. Ethan couldn't watch her. It didn't go on for long, because Hunnar threatened to tie her wrists to her ankles and drag hear the rest of the way up.

  She grumbled, but climbed down-to everyone's immense relief.

  Once they'd passed through the first dark hallway, Fahdig led them upwards via a different route than the one they'd first traversed. They passed a long, comfortable looking room and he indicated the beds neatly lined against both walls in­side.

  "For tonight," he informed them unnecessarily.

  There was no wall fireplace. Instead, a central pit was sunk into the center of the floor and filled with logs and brush. Just above the pit a large wooden funnel lined with copper narrowed into a long black pipe that disappeared into the ceiling.

  In one respect, then, these isolated scholars were ahead of the busy commercial port of Wannome. They'd developed a rudimentary form of real beating. It was more efficient than a fireplace-provided all the waste particles went up the funnel and not onto one's bed. Several windows in the east wall would let in the morning light. Lamps and torches were mounted on the walls. With the single door shut it would be very comfortable.

  "Very pleasant-looking dormitory," complimented Septem­ber. "Is this how you fellas live?"

  "Oh no," Fahdig replied. "Each of the Brothers has his own small. vestibule. This is a study room."

  "With beds?"

  "In a gesture of friendship, some among the Brotherhood have given up their beds for the night. They will sleep on pal­lets. Tis good for the body and the mind, now and then. Tables and chairs normally fill this room. They will return when you have departed."

  "'That's very considerate of you," said Ethan. "We're sorry to put you to so much trouble."

  "Hospitality is never trouble," their imperturbable guide replied. "If you will come this way, please.."

  They continued down the hall and went up one more level, where Fahdig motioned them into another room. They seemed to be in one of the highest levels of the monastery. Evening light poured in from the huge skylight that occupied most of the ceiling.

  Ethan wondered if the beautiful skylights had been devel­oped and built by the scholars themselves or if they were a bit of art once known but long forgotten in Wannome. There was no way of telling, and it might not be good manners to ask.

  The table was long and simple. ,So were the foods that other members of the Brotherhood were setting on it. The Prior sat at the head of the table with several other elderly tran. Williams and Eer-Meesach were there to greet them.

  The little schoolmaster fairly exploded. out of his seat when they entered. He walked straight to Ethan.
>
  "My dear friend, you have no idea, no _idea_ what a treasure­house this place is! Malmeevyn and I have been overwhelmed by one amazing volume after another. Some of the older books stored heer go back literally thousands of years ... or so Malmeevyn tells me. There's much I can't translate. The books themselves are astonishing. But the amount of pure information and data stored inside ... it would take a hundred xenologists years with a good computer just to prop­erly document and catalogue the material the Brotherhood holds."

  "I don't want to dampen your enthusiasm," replied Ethan, gazing at the fresh vegetables set in front of him with similar excitement, "but we'll only be leers another day. The repairs will be completed by then and we'll be on our way back to civilization. You remember civilization?"

  "Not with overwhelming fondness, Ethan. You're right, of course. But the flings we have discovered already ... did you realize that at one time this world averaged a hundred­ fifty degrees warmer? There was ice only at the poles. For some reason the climate changed suddenly. The seas froze and most of the land was pressed beneath the water. It was yesterday, geologically speaking."

  "'That's interesting," agreed Ethan absently, his stomach growling for attention. He took a seat.

  "And besides that ... " Williams stopped, leis tone chang­ing to one of admonishment. "You weren't even listening. You're like the others, only interested in liquor and money and women."

  "hook, Milliken, I'm fascinated. But I'm also starving after those two climbs. Later, huh?" He fastened his gaze on the platter of steaming meat that magically appeared in front of him.

  Williams ignored him and stalked away. Ire took his seat and seemed to forget the conversation entirely as he plunged into debate with Eer-Meesach. They night have been alone at the table.

  They quieted, however, when the Prior raised a clawed old paw and gestated for silence. Ethan hadn't expected a premeal prayer. What he got was just that, and a curious some­thing else.

  "We eat of the product of resourcefulness and thought," said the Prior solemnly. "Our reason says that this is so. May the Brotherhood never falter in its purpose, nor its strength diminish, so that we may forever continue to hold back the ravages of the Dark One."

  That was all. Then the other Brothers-not servants, but members of the society acting in that capacity tonight-began to pass around the plates of meat, vegetables, and baked foods.

  Ethan tried several dishes, found them bland but filling.

  Hunnar and the two squires fidgeted ,noticeably at this polite departure from normal table manners. They were not used to eating in a restrained manner. Here, the "he who gets there firstest gets the bestest" theorem did not apply. They managed to keep from attacking the table and allowed them­selves to be served like all the others.

  For a while, then, no one did anything but eat. The mem­bers of the Brotherhood seemed willing to permit matters to continue that way.

  But gradually, as stomachs were filled, thoughts other than of consumption occupied the minds of those seated around the table and they began to ask questions.

  With Hunnar doing most of the talking, they explained to their attentive hosts how they fought and defeated the Horde, how they came to build the great ice clipper, and their sub­sequent use of a herd of thunder-eaters to destroy the re­mainder of the Horde.

  When it came to the origin of the humans, Ethan thought a few of the Brothers looked more than just casually inter­ested. One was unabashedly fascinated by the bowdlerized version of their initial landing and first contacts with Hunnar's folk.

  September chipped in with occasional comments and cor­rections. The du Kanes continued to eat and listen in silence. And the two wizards were off in their own private world, oblivious to human and tran alike.

  "An amazing account," commented the Prior finally, with becoming control. "And one that should be set down for the records ... even though some of it taxes the credulity. Alas, you maintain you have not the tune."

  "I'm afraid not," said September, not at all contrite. "We ought to and will be on our way again as soon as repairs on the raft are completed."

  "What a shame," the Prior added. He sipped easily of a mild brew from his large earthen mug. "Twould make a fine subject for a poem, would it not, Brother Hodjay?"

  "Truly it would," sighed Hodjay. "A pity existence is so brief. You are quite positive you cannot stay?" He looked at Ethan.

  "I'm sorry, we really can't. We should take advantage of the good weather, too."

  The Prior picked at something that looked like a baked pudding with his knife.

  "How far have you still to travel?"

  "Fifty or sixty satch," said Hunnar. He added conversation­ally, "But first we have to reach the Place-Where-'The-Earth's-­Blood-Burns."

  There was a crash.

  "I ... my clumsiness shames me," said one of the Broth­ers. He pushed back his chair and knelt to help one of the servers gather up the shards of broken mug.

  "Alas, Brother Podren's development has gone wholly to the brain," chuckled the Prior easily. The other Brothers made the tran laugh-equivalent. To Ethan it seemed a little forced.

  The Prior continued as though nothing had happened.

  "Do not be surprised at Brother Podren's reaction. Not many folk travel to the Place-Where-The-Earth's-Blood­Burns."

  "Why not?" asked September a little sharply, and then Ethan knew he wasn't alone in detecting their hosts' reactions.

  The Prior spread his arms, opened his paws. "Superstition. The common folk say strange things about the great smoking mountain."

  "It is a volcano, then," muttered Ethan to himself. They'd assumed as much all along, but it was nice to have additional confirmation.

  "Could you elaborate, Prior?" September pressed.

  "Surely. Those who pass too close are said to have their minds affected. Some report seeing odd visions, while others see nothing at all and remain untouched. Others, they say, are drawn toward the mountain as a starring being may be drawn to food. Again, their companions may experience nothing. There is no soil and little grows there. None would live there anyway."

  "Superstition is all that keeps them away?" asked Ethan.

  "That, and the fact that the mountain throws out melted earth and choking black dust very often."

  "Oh."

  "But you've been there," said September shrewdly.

  The old tran nodded. "I have been close by the place," he conceded. "I did not set foot on the ground."

  "Because of the superstitions?" September toyed with his pseudo-pudding.

  "No. Because at the time it was throwing out melted stone in huge quantities and the heat was appalling. The danger was real and not imaginary. My spirit was quite safe, but there was a real danger to the body. So the ship I was on did not linger in the area. Hopefully, you will have better luck."

  "We expect to," September replied.

  "And now, tell me once more of your miraculous sky-boat and its unfathomable mechanisms. I did not understand the first time and probably will not this time either, but there is merit in trying."

  Dinner ended with a pleasant little liqueur. Conversation continued for another hour or so. Then Colette yawned widely, and Budjir confessed that he had to rise early on the morrow to help oversee the setting of the new bowsprit. So the' Prior declared the gathering at an end.

  The group of visiting humans and trap were guided back to their communal sleeping room. Ethan walked next to Septem­ber.

  "What do you think of our hosts?" said the big man.

  "Hmmm? Oh, I guess they're okay. A little dry and self­ centered maybe, but okay. For a second there, when Hunnar mentioned our destination and what's-his-name dropped his mug ... "

  "Podren."

  "Yes, Podren. I thought there was something very unfriendly in his expression. He covered it fast, though, and I'm sure no expert at interpreting alien facial expressions. On the other hand, it didn't seem to affect the Prior at all."

  "He was probably rig
ht ... our going to a place regarded as a home for devils and spirits and what-not, young feller. Leaking gases could explain the hallucinations and weird re­actions among passing natives."

  "I suppose so. In any case, we'll have the chance to find out for ourselves before long."

  They reached the room. The central firepit was crackling and spitting merrily, throwing welcome heat to every corner of the room. It had apparently been burning during the meal, as a respectable pile of coals had accumulated in the bottom of the pit. These added to the pleasant heat.

  Ethan made his goodnights to everyone else. There were no dividers between the beds. It wasn't a problem, however, since none of the humans had any intention of exposing their bare skin to the still-frigid air.

  He climbed into bed. Hunnar and September split up and set about extinguishing the lamp-, that burned on the walls. Ethan would have helped, but they hung at tran height and that was a bit too high for him.

  There were fewer furs and blankets on the bed than he'd grown used to. Their hosts, of course, had no way of knowing that the hairless strangers were far more affected by the cold than Hunnar and the squires and Elfa. Then, too, this was not the castle of Wannome, nor were they the privileged passen­gers on a great raft.

  Hunnar and the squires took the beds placed farthest from the firepit. Elfa insisted on doing likewise, as did old Eer-­Meesach. That was fine with Ethan. He had no desire to play. the Stoic Terran. A. place near the dying blaze was worth any moral oversight.

  He drifted almost immediately into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  It seemed minutes later when he awoke, but it wasn't. He sat up in near total darkness to an uncomfortably familiar scream. The fire was gone, but there was enough light from the star-filled windows and the failing coals to make out shapes.

  The room was filled with straggling, swearing, darting forms. The first scream wasn't repeated, but there were plenty of yells and bellows* *of outrage. He could recognize Hunnar's and September's among them.

  The half of the room nearest the doorway was full of white-robed, bearded silhouettes. A pair of muscular paws grabbed at him as he sat in the bed and pulled him bodily out of it. He fought in the tight grasp and got to his knees.