2
Rabbit still had mixed feelings about the Kajak affair as Sorgan’s fleet set sail from the harbor at Kweta. His sudden celebrity as “the little fellow who helped Longbow that night” had given his ego quite a boost, there was no question about that, but celebrity was the last thing Rabbit really wanted. Inconspicuousness had been his goal since the day he first joined the crew of the Seagull. The standard Maag conviction that “bigger is better” had made the pose fairly easy, and his mock simplemindedness had convinced Sorgan and the others that a few easy tasks were about all he was good for. It had made his life less exhausting, and that was all that really mattered.
The only significant task that had ever been laid on his shoulders had involved the Seagull’s smithy, and that had worked out rather well. If he happened to be standing at his anvil tapping on a piece of iron with his hammer, Ox and Ham-Hand would find other sailors to attend to the more tedious chores.
He was required to stand watch, of course. No sailor can escape that task, and Rabbit much preferred night watch, when the captain was asleep. When things were going well, Rabbit could go for weeks on end without once seeing Sorgan.
That didn’t particularly bother him.
Rabbit had based his previous computations of the Seagull’s speed and location on the location of a specific cluster of stars in the night sky relative to the eastern horizon, and in the past he’d found that if the Seagull was moving at her normal rate of speed, those stars would be a hand’s breadth higher in the sky than they had been the previous night. It all fit together quite well, and Rabbit had been certain that his numbers were very accurate. When the current had seized the Seagull and swept her off to the Land of Dhrall however, Rabbit had almost discarded his entire set of computations, but now that he knew that Zelana could alter things to suit her purposes, he dropped the term “impossible.” When Zelana was involved, nothing was really impossible.
Sorgan’s fleet left the harbor at Kweta at first light on a blustery winter morning, and once they were at sea, the wind seemed almost to die. Then it came up again, but now it came out of the west. Most of the crew of the Seagull viewed the change of the wind as a stroke of good luck. Rabbit, however, was fairly certain that luck had very little to do with it.
Despite the fact that it was winter now, Sorgan’s fleet made good time, and they rounded the northern end of the Isle of Thurn after little more than two weeks at sea. Had the sky been clear, Rabbit might have been able to keep better track of their progress, but the clouds hid the stars from him.
He didn’t think that was very nice at all.
“Does she really need to blot the stars out like that?” he complained to Longbow one evening as the fleet made its way down the forested west coast of Dhrall.
“Go ask her,” Longbow suggested.
“Ah—no, I don’t think I’ll do that. I wouldn’t really want to irritate her.”
“Good thinking,” Longbow said without so much as a smile.
It was about midday on a chill day when the fleet turned into the narrow inlet that opened out into the bay of Lattash, where the fleet of Sorgan’s cousin Skell lay at anchor. The sky was cloudy, so there were no shadows, and it seemed to Rabbit that the village huddled in the chill air with the snowy mountains looming ominously above it.
Rabbit noticed that the village had more than doubled in size since he’d last been there, but most of the additions appeared to be temporary. The new huts were along the edges of the old village, for the most part, and there were even several of them standing atop the berm that separated the original village from the river. The smoke from the huts seemed to hang in the chill air, and what few natives were out in the open wore thickly furred capes, and they stepped right along. Rabbit knew that winter was an unpleasant time almost anywhere, but it seemed even worse here in the Land of Dhrall.
A narrow canoe came skimming out across the bay from the village. Red-Beard was in the rear of the canoe, and Sorgan’s cousin Skell, a lean, sour-faced man in a heavy fur cloak, was seated in the bow. Rabbit laid his hammer down on the anvil to watch and listen.
“You must have picked up a good following wind, Sorgan,” Skell called when the canoe came to within shouting distance.
Sorgan shrugged. “Lucky, maybe,” he called back. “How have things been going here?”
“Not all that great,” Skell replied as Red-Beard paddled his canoe up beside the Seagull. “You and I can keep our men pretty much under control, but some of these ship captains you saddled me with seem to have no idea of the meaning of the word ‘discipline,’ and they’ve got barrels and barrels of grog on board their ships. As soon as we got here, a fair number of the men in the fleet went on a rampage. I guess they thought that every hut here in Lattash had walls of solid gold, and they all seemed to get those kinds of ideas about the womenfolk here. That caused a lot of trouble. The Dhralls killed a few dozen of the rowdier ones, and things were real nervous for a while. I had a few sailors—and a couple of ship captains—flogged, and things quieted down after that.”
Sorgan winced. “Wasn’t that a little extreme?”
“We were right on the edge of open war, Sorgan,” Skell replied. “I had to do something to get back on the good side of the Dhralls.”
“Have you seen any sign of the enemy yet?”
“I haven’t personally,” Skell said as Red-Beard pulled his canoe alongside the Seagull, “but the Dhralls were scouting up on the rim of the ravine that river comes down through, and they told us that the invaders were coming downriver and that they had us outnumbered by more than just a little. The weather turned foul on them, though, and I don’t think they’ll be moving very much for a while. They’re bogged down in about fourteen feet of snow right now.”
“It sounds like luck’s on our side for a change,” Sorgan observed.
“I wouldn’t reach for my dice just yet,” Skell said, standing up and reaching for the rope ladder hanging down the side of the Seagull. “The weather around here can change in the blink of an eye.” He climbed up the ladder to the Seagull’s forward deck, and he and Sorgan gravely shook hands off to one side of Rabbit’s anvil.
Sorgan looked across the harbor to the village. “There seems to be quite a few more huts than there were when I came here last summer.” He said.
“Old-Bear’s tribe came here right after the local Dhralls saw the enemy coming down the ravine,” Skell reported. “The two biggest tribes here in western Dhrall are here, and there are more on the way.”
“Were you able to get any of your men up into the ravine before the weather turned bad?” Sorgan asked.
“Quite a few. We had to scout up on the north side of the ravine because a snowslide had blocked off the side closer to the village, but I picked the narrowest spot I could find and put a couple dozen ship crews to work building a fort across it. I doubt that they got much of it done before that snowstorm came out of nowhere. I haven’t been able to get anybody up there to find out, though. The snow’s too deep.” Skell looked out at Sorgan’s fleet. “It looks a little skimpy to me, Sorgan. Was that the best you could manage?”
“Things got a little wild back in Kweta right after you left, Skell. Do you remember Kajak?”
Skell made an indelicate sound.
“That comes close to what he really was,” Sorgan agreed. “He came up with a scheme to get his hands on all that gold I had on board the Seagull, but he came up against Longbow and Rabbit here. You wouldn’t believe how many people the two of them killed in short order. Anyway, after that I went back to hiring more ship captains, but then Lady Zelana’s brother came by and told her that things were starting to heat up over here, and that her people were going to need us before too much longer. I left your brother Torl back there to recruit more ships and men. He should be along in a couple of weeks.”
“We’ll probably need him,” Skell said, “but the way things stand right now, I don’t think anybody’s going to be able to move around very much unti
l the snow melts.”
“We’d better start making plans for what we’ll need to do after that happens,” Sorgan said. “The snow might hold the invaders off for a while, but it won’t last forever. When it melts, we’d better be ready to deal with them.”
“That’s what we’re getting paid for, I guess,” Skell agreed.
“Where’s Longbow?” Red-Beard quietly asked Rabbit as Sorgan and Skell continued their discussion.
“He’s back in Lady Zelana’s cabin,” Rabbit replied. “Do you need to talk with him?”
“There are a few things he should probably know about. You might as well come along too, Rabbit. That way, I won’t have to tell the story twice.”
They went on back to the stern of the Seagull, and Rabbit tapped lightly on the door of Sorgan’s old cabin.
“You can come in if you want, Bunny,” Eleria called, “but don’t forget to wipe your feet.”
Rabbit sighed, rolling his eyes upward.
“Does she say that very often?” Red-Beard asked.
“Every single time,” Rabbit said, opening the door.
As usual, Eleria was sitting on Longbow’s lap, but the tall man firmly put her down on the floor and stood up. “Has there been any trouble between the tribes?” he asked Red-Beard.
“Right at first I guess there was,” Red-Beard replied with a faint smile. “The younger men didn’t get along with each other too well—you know how that goes.”
“Oh, yes,” Longbow agreed with a note of resignation.
“Things had quieted down by the time I came back here with Skell’s fleet, though. My chief, White-Braid, and your chief, Old-Bear, spoke very firmly with the young ones of the two tribes, and everyone’s behaving now.”
“Does that sort of thing happen very often here in Dhrall?” Rabbit asked.
“All the time,” Red-Beard said with a shrug. “Young men seem to need the attention of others, and as soon as one of them says, ‘My tribe’s better than your tribe,’ the fights begin.”
“That has a familiar ring to it,” Rabbit said with a faint smile. “Tavern brawls over in Maag break out for almost exactly the same reason. I guess that the only good thing about being young is that you’ll get over it—eventually.”
“Where did Chief Old-Bear set up his lodge?” Longbow asked Red-Beard. “I should probably speak with him before too long.”
“His lodge is near the berm,” Red-Beard replied. “He spends quite a bit of his time with your tribe’s shaman, doesn’t he?”
Longbow nodded. “They get along with each other quite well. One-Who-Heals is very wise—and very practical. He explained many things to me before I went to the hunt.” He paused. Rabbit got the distinct impression that they were approaching a subject they weren’t supposed to mention in his presence. “There seems to be more snow on the ground than there was when we left,” Longbow continued quite smoothly. “How long did the storm last?”
“Ten days or so, actually,” Red-Beard said. “It was a very unusual kind of snowstorm, though. I can’t remember the last time I saw snow falling out of a clear blue sky.”
“That would be a bit peculiar, wouldn’t it?” Longbow agreed.
“Storms that come out of nowhere seem to be turning up fairly often here lately,” Rabbit observed.
The three of them looked inquiringly at Zelana.
“All right,” she said. “I cheat a little bit now and then. Don’t make a big issue of it. I just wanted to be sure that nothing serious got under way until Sorgan’s fleet reached Dhrall. Snow isn’t quite as cold as ice, but if there’s enough snow, it pretty much freezes everything in place.”
“Couldn’t we just leave all that snow up there in the mountains, Beloved?” Eleria suggested. “The bad things won’t be able to move until it melts, and if it never melts, they’ll have to stay right where they are.”
Zelana shook her head. “Father Earth wouldn’t permit that, Eleria. A year without a summer would kill too many plants and animals, and plants and animals are as dear to him as people are. We can keep that snow up there for a few weeks longer, but then we’ll have to let it melt off. If Veltan can get here before the snow melts, everything should be all right. If he’s delayed, things might start to get interesting.”
“Your brother’s bringing help?” Red-Beard asked.
Zelana nodded. “Trogite soldiers.”
“Trogites!” Rabbit exclaimed. “You expect Trogites to help Maags? That’s not very likely, you know. Trogites hate us like we were some kind of disease.”
“Veltan’s paying them not to hate you,” she told him. “You can go back to hating each other after the war’s over and you’ve all gone home.”
Rabbit shrugged. “It’s your war, Lady Zelana, so we’ll do things any way you want us to, but I think there might be trouble before the war’s over.”
“There’s all the trouble we’re likely to need camped up at the head of the ravine right now, Rabbit,” Red-Beard said.
“Did any of those rampaging sailors happen to find Lady Zelana’s cave?” Rabbit asked him.
“No,” Red-Beard answered. “Chief White-Braid told the young men to cover the cave mouth with bushes and tree limbs and then put a couple of huts in front of it. There were guards, but they weren’t too obvious.”
“I think it’s time for Eleria and me to go back to the cave,” Zelana decided.
“I’ll take you there,” Red-Beard offered.
“That would be nice,” Zelana said. “Rabbit, go tell Hook-Beak that he can have his cabin back now.”
“I’ll need to get my canoe out of the forward hold,” Longbow said to Zelana. “Do you want me to bring Rabbit to the cave?”
“I think so, yes. See what Sorgan has to say about it first, though. Let’s not ruffle Hook-Beak’s feathers if we don’t really have to.”
Rabbit was a bit surprised by Zelana’s decision to include him in the rather select society of the cave. Despite what had happened in Kweta, Rabbit still didn’t think of himself as one of any kind of inner circle. He gave it some thought as he went forward to the bow of the Seagull. “Lady Zelana’s going ashore now, Cap’n,” he reported. “She says you can have your cabin back now.”
“Well finally,” Sorgan said. “Things might go back to being normal now. Has she left yet?”
“She’s on the way, Cap’n. Red-Beard’s taking her and Eleria ashore in his canoe. Longbow’s hauling his canoe up out of the forward hold as well, so we’ll have the Seagull to ourselves for a change.”
“I think maybe you should go stay in that cave with Lady Zelana, Rabbit,” Sorgan said with a thoughtful squint. “She likes you, so keep her happy. Let’s not lose sight of the fact that a lot of the gold in that cave’s going to be ours when this is over. Make sure that it’s well guarded.”
“I’ll do the best I can, Cap’n,” Rabbit promised. Then he went back out on deck and helped Longbow lower his canoe into the water.
“Did he argue with you about it?” Longbow asked as they both settled into the canoe.
Rabbit grinned at his friend. “I didn’t even have to ask. He really, really wants somebody he knows near all that gold stacked up in the cave.”
Longbow nodded and then pushed his canoe away from the Seagull with his foot, picked up his paddle, and started them toward shore. “Lattash seems much larger than our village,” he observed as they approached the beach.
“Some of that’s probably because the people of your tribe moved here while we were off in Maag trying to pick up a lot of ships,” Rabbit suggested. Then something occurred to him. “You’ve never been down here, have you, Longbow?” he asked.
“We usually avoid the villages of other tribes, Rabbit,” Longbow explained. “The chieftains of the various tribes occasionally meet, but usually in open meadows, where there’s not much chance of surprises.”
“You folks here in Dhrall are kind of nervous, aren’t you?”
“Cautious, Rabbit, cautious. It’s very rare f
or the people of one tribe to completely trust the people of other tribes. Wars between the tribes are very common.” Longbow beached his canoe, the two of them pulled it up farther onto the sand, and then they trudged up toward the cave mouth.
Eleria was waiting near the front of one of the huts Red-Beard’s people had erected to conceal the cave mouth. “What kept you?” she asked. “We’ve got company. The Beloved’s big brother came here a little while ago, and they’re talking right now back in the cave.”
“Veltan again?” Rabbit asked her.
“No, Bunny, it’s Dahlaine. He’s the oldest one in the family, and he thinks he’s the most important creature in the whole world. He tries to order the Beloved to do things, but she doesn’t pay too much attention to him.” Eleria giggled. “That drives him absolutely wild.”
“You live with a very strange group of people, baby sister,” Rabbit said.
“I know, and it’s loads of fun.”
Rabbit and Longbow followed her through the empty hut and back into the cave, where Rabbit saw Zelana speaking with a large, burly fellow dressed in bearskins. He had piercing eyes and an iron grey beard.
“Veltan told me that he might be able to lend me some of his Trogite soldiers,” she was saying, “but I suppose that might depend on how soon he can get them here to Dhrall.”
“I’ll talk with him,” the grey-bearded man promised. “Veltan’s just a bit reticent sometimes. Are the Dhralls of your Domain gathering to meet the invaders?”
“Chief White-Braid was dealing with that while Eleria and I were busy over in Maag. I hate to admit this, Dahlaine, but I really should have paid more attention to what’s been going on here in the West. There are some very serious animosities between several tribes that I might have been able to smooth over if I hadn’t spent all those years swimming with my dolphins. Fortunately, when White-Braid and Old-Bear joined together, they were fairly intimidating. Some of the tribes here didn’t really want to join with the others, but they were prudent enough not to say so.”
The Elder Gods Page 20
