by David Duncan
Thana turned solicitous eyes on Shonsu. "You can spare me for a little while, my lord?"
"I think I'll manage," he said politely.
Thana patted his hand, rose in a leisurely display of long, brown limbs, and sauntered catlike to the door. Her sashes were becoming quite indecent these days, hardly more than ribbons, and Brota caught a whiff of musk and violets that would have choked a goat. She would have to explain subtlety to Thana.
Nnanji threw. Thud! Bull's-eye. He smirked and reached for another knife.
Jja rose and went across to her owner, receiving a smile of welcome that spoke more than a dozen sutras. Then he looked to Brota again. "Mistress? I've been trying to make sense of what happened in Wal. You, Sailor Oligarro, Nnanji, and the captain, none of your stories are quite the same. The thunderbolt―you said the man vanished in the smoke, but you saw no flash. Oligarro says he fell off the gangplank, and there was a flash. Nnanji could not see..."
She had told him three times. Of course eyewitnesses would never agree. "What does Novice Katanji say, my lord?"
Shonsu and Nnanji exchanged surprised glances. "I was not aware that he was present."
Demons! She had just thrown away her guide to the source of illicit rugs. "Oh, yes! He was there, my lord."
Nnanji sprang off the chest and headed purposefully for the door. Brota followed him out on deck. Katanji was standing by the forward gangplank, wearing kilt and sword and boots. How had he managed...
She hurried after Nnanji, dodging rolls of carpet being carried aboard.
"I need a word with you, protégé!" he said ominously.
Katanji opened his eyes wide. "Of course, mentor." The only trace of his slave disguise was a faint oily smear on his nose. His face had been smeared that night in Wal, too. "Did you ask Mistress Brota about that sutra?"
Nnanji hesitated, then turned to Brota with a grin. "Can you explain one thousand and forty-four to me, mistress?"
Fortunately, a Fifth need only know up to nine eighty-one. "I'm not familiar with it, adept."
"Lord Shonsu threw it at me. He says he doesn't understand it, either, but I'm sure he's fooling." His eyes went blank and he quoted in a voice very like Shonsu's: " 'On Lack of Footprints: It is better to give a blunt sword than a sutra to those beyond help.' "
Brota shrugged. Landlubber piffle! How was she going to extract Katanji, or even get a quick word with him? "It doesn't seem to make much sense, does it? How can you give anything to someone who's beyond help?"
Nnanji nodded glumly. "I thought it might mean that it's better to give any help you can, even if it's not much, rather man just advice?"
"Where do the footprints come in, then?"
"Well... even if there's no fame or honor to be gained?"
"Could it have two meanings," Katanji said, "so you could take whichever one you wanted?"
"What's the other one?" his brother demanded cautiously.
Thana drifted out of the fo'c'sle door, wearing her best satin wrap and yellow sandals. She had her sword on her back. Nnanji's eyes wandered in that direction.
"Pirates leave no footprints," Katanji muttered, as though deep in thought. "Not like brigands on land. And 'blunt sword' could mean... a foil? And the frees can't help sailors..."
"That's it!" Nnanji shouted. "You've got it! It means you can teach fencing to sailors! Thanks, nipper!" Sorcerers forgotten, he spun around and ran for the deckhouse.
Katanji watched him go, shaking his head pityingly. Then he smirked at Brota. "Let's get the hell out of here!" he said.
* * *
Brota chose the largest gondola she could see, but it heaved mightily when she clambered in. She seated herself facing the gondolier to keep an eye on him. He was a skinny, sun-dried man with wide shoulders, about the right age to have many mouths to feed. Thana and the boy sat in front of him, facing her.
The gondolier pushed off, and the boat slid out toward the harbor. He sang a short welcome, tourist stuff, and then said, "Where to, mistress?"
"Into the city to make a few purchases and bring them back to the ship."
He guessed at once. "Rugs," he said, and his face went wooden. Thana helped in the negotiations, leaning back to smile up at him and let him peer down the top of her wrap while she wheedled. It was an article of faith in the family that Thana always got her own way. Wide-eyed and damp on the forehead, the gondolier settled for a lot less than the port officer had.
The boat glided forward again through sheets of light coming off the water. Misty towers glimmered in the distance. "Where to?" asked the gondolier again.
"Where to, novice?" Brota asked. The rugmaker would think he was furnishing a barracks when he saw three swordsmen arrive.
Katanji tore his eyes away from stately tall ships, the graceful galleys, the scurrying small craft. He smiled angelically. "What's my share?" he asked.
The boat flowed onward for a few minutes, and the only sounds were the music and port noises drifting over the harbor.
"What did you have in mind?" she demanded, deciding that five silver was tops.
He grinned. "I get first choice, and you transport mine free of charge to Sapphire and on Sapphire to wherever I want and unload for me." Then he paused, and his face grew serious. "And you promise not to tell Nanj. He says trade isn't honorable for swordsmen!"
Thana began to snicker. Brota didn't know whether to be furious at herself or amused at the lad.
"We don't allow private trading on Sapphire," she said grimly. "The crew all know that they have a share, and if anyone wants to leave he can take it then."
"With respect, mistress," Katanji said, not looking very respectful, "I'm not crew."
She surrendered with a wry smile, conscious that Thana was enjoying this and would love to tell the story to the rest of the family. "No, you're one of the Goddess' men, aren't you? All right, it's a deal. But don't you tell anyone, either. Or you, Thana!"
He leaned forward and held out both hands for the traders' shake, which amused her even more. Then he told the gondolier the Canal of Seven Temples and went back to eyeing the busy port.
Suddenly Brota remembered that this First had at least fifteen golds in his pouch. She'd been thinking that "first choice" meant one rug. He wouldn't dare... would he?
Before she could ask, Thana beat her to it. "How much are you planning to spend, trader?" she asked.
Katanji gave her a big, toothy smile. "Sixty-four golds," he said.
BOOK FOUR:
HOW THE SWORDSMAN EARNED AN ARMY
†
zzz
Casr, next city after Dri, lay also on the right bank, swordsman country. The Wind God continued to perform His duties apathetically, and when at last Casr came in sight, one hot and tranquil afternoon, Wallie was sufficiently recovered to be out of doors. Wearing nothing but his kilt, he sprawled oil a hatch cover with his head on a pillow, soaking up sunshine like a millionaire on a private yacht. The boards were warm beneath him, and sails filled the sky.
By him lay his crutch, made for him by Sailor Holiyi. On his other side sat Jja, clad now in sailor breechclout and bra sash. They had to be black for a slave, of course, but they showed off her delectable figure in a way that Wallie found thunderously provocative. From time to time he would squeeze her hand, or she would squeeze his, and then they would smile to each other in silent contentment. Thana, praise to the Most High, had at last become discouraged in her wooing and was nowhere around.
The World crawled along at its leisurely preindustrial pace. It was a very peaceful way to go to war. Wallie was being given time to recover his health and apparently he was going to make a full recovery. The pious might class that as a miracle cure.
Sailors sauntered by upon their daily tasks, tending ship and children, clothes and food. The glances they sent his way were at best friendly, at worst respectfully polite... and that was another miracle. Their former hostility had vanished, being replaced by a grudging acceptance of the passengers. Brota had e
ven found cabins for them, doubling up youngsters and clearing out storage.
Up on the poop, steel clashed on steel as Nnanji coached Mata. Since his mentor had uncovered that curiously ambiguous sutra, ship life had been transformed for him from a hell of boredom to a heaven of day-long fencing. No longer was he restricted to teaching Thana, Katanji, and Matarro. The sailors welcomed the instruction. On the River, it was wise insurance.
Wallie was still savoring that thought when a shadow warned him and he raised his eyes to see the humorless face of Tomiyano like a dark cloud in the sky. He sat up.
"Casr in sight... my lord." Tomiyano no longer thought murder when he looked at Shonsu, but neither did he experience ecstasies of brotherly love. "Just wondering if you felt able to recruit some swordsmen yet?" He was obviously resigned to a negative reply.
Wallie shook his head. He tried a smile, but it was absorbed and not reflected. Moving the crutch out of the way, he gestured to the hatch beside him.
"Not yet, Captain. But sit a moment and let's discuss it."
Tomiyano shrugged and perched on the edge as if not planning to stay long. His bruises were gone now, the scrapes healed. The burn on his face had developed white strands of scar tissue. A proud man―proud of his ship, now appropriated by the gods; proud of his physical self, eclipsed by the titanic presence of Shonsu; proud once of his independence...
"I'm not fit for duty yet," Wallie said. "But one day, Captain, you'll get your ship back. One day I'll have cleaned up the sorcerers. Then we'll both be free agents. And perhaps, when that day comes, you and I can meet in a bar somewhere and clean that up together? Or clean up each other, if you prefer. I'll spot you one friend or two chair legs, and I'll flatten the furniture with you. After that's over, we could tear up the whole dock front? Go wenching and start a legend? Build the sort of hangover that makes a man suicidal? Riot and pillage and..."
Tomiyano's face stayed wooden. He laid his hands on the hatch as if about to rise. "Anything else, my lord?"
Wallie sighed―wrong approach. "Yes. After Casr, I believe, comes Sen. But that's left bank. Next swordsman city is Tau... a week, maybe?"
"If we get some decent wind."
"Well, I should be mobile by then."
"You'll be disembarking in Tau?" The sailor's expression was cautious.
Wallie knew what was bothering him. "As soon as I'm fit and we reach a city with some reasonable swordsmen, then your obligations are ended, the contract fulfilled. We'll disembark. Fair enough?"
The sailor was also a trader. "Define 'reasonable swordsmen.' "
"A pair of Thirds? Able-bodied types, of course. Yes, I'd say that two Thirds would do to start with. They, at least, could cover my back."
The sailor nodded and again seemed about to depart.
"Stay awhile," Wallie said. "If you have a minute? I've a problem you may be able to help me with."
Tomiyano settled back, his face revealing nothing, but at that moment an outburst of laughter came wafting down from the fencers and their audience on the poop, with Nnanji's the loudest of all. The captain glanced that way, and his eyes narrowed.
"Now there's a miracle for you," Wallie said softly.
"Miracle?"
"Nnanji. Not many men can overcome their own prejudices as he did, Captain."
Tomiyano scowled. "Prejudices? Prejudices would be opinions not based upon experience, would they not?"
"Or on experiences not relevant." Wallie found it hard to be patient around Tomiyano. "Think what he started with―years of consorting with almost no one but swordsmen. Of course he regarded civilians with scorn―it was how he was trained to think. He was also taught that assassination was an absolutely unforgivable crime, the ultimate atrocity―"
"You disagree with that oath he swore?"
"Not in the slightest. What I mean is that he found that his training was inappropriate and he rose above it. Few people ever do that, Captain. The old man swears he played no part―it was all Nnanji's idea. When we first came aboard, he believed that you and your family should be proud to serve him, just because he was a swordsman. Now he regards you as friends and allies. That's quite a feat of adjustment, is it not?"
"It's an improvement."
"And you? You believed that all swordsmen were murderers and rapists. How are your prejudices coming along, Sailor Tomiyano?"
The captain flushed. "My opinions were based on experience."
"But not relevant experience."
"I admit I was proved wrong, in your case. Only in your case."
Wallie shrugged, knowing that most swordsmen would have been ready to draw blood for that remark. But a ship's captain ought to appreciate leadership, and Nnanji had demonstrated a faculty for leadership that Wallie had never suspected behind that flippant juvenile grin. He had been guilty of prejudice himself, thinking of his young assistant as merely a useful ax-man and a handy walking reference library. So there was another niggling question: how large a part was Nnanji destined to play in Shonsu's quest?
Tomiyano went back to business. "What was the problem you wanted to discuss?"
"In a sense, my problem is knowing what my problem is, if you can follow that. A god told me I had a mission, but he didn't say what it involved, just that it would be revealed to me. Well, now I've met the sorcerers, so I know what I'm supposed to do, even if I still don't know how. But he also gave me a riddle."
The sailor's eyebrows pushed the three shipmarks up into his chestnut hair. Petulance succumbed to curiosity. "A riddle, my lord?"
"A riddle. And this is the part that concerns you:
When the mighty has been spurned,
An army earned, a circle turned,
So the lesson may be learned.
"We assume that a swordsman of my rank qualifies as being mighty, and spurning is a mild description of what I got in Aus."
Obviously intrigued, Tomiyano scratched his head. "How do you earn an army?" he asked warily.
He did not speak the natural continuation of the question: How did Lord Shonsu earn an army after what he had done in Aus? If that tale arrived before him, he would be refused at best and denounced at worst. If it became known after he had enlisted swordsmen, then it would detonate a mutiny. His contract with Brota had specified that he was to be given passage to the nearest city where he could recruit swordsmen, but could Shonsu ever recruit swordsmen now?
Which might be why Honakura had been suggesting that Sapphire's crew might be the army in question. They had all been nimble with a sword even before Nnanji began his lessons, and his training was rapidly giving them a versatility and polish they had never had before. Nevertheless, Wallie could not believe that he was expected to fight several cities' worth of sorcerers with a dozen or so amateurs, half of them women, and he certainly was not going to mention the idea to Tomiyano. The swordsmen and their companions might be tolerated now as a necessary evil, but Sapphire's crew were not soldiers. Warfare had no appeal for them, and fire demons were certainly not in the contract.
"I don't know how one earns an army," Wallie said. "I am sure that the lesson part concerns the sorcerers―somehow, there must be a way to fight them. But it's the circle part I wanted to ask you about."
"What circle?"
'The one we're turning!" He chuckled at the sailor's puzzled frown. "So far we know of four swordsmen cities to our left, on the right bank―Ki San, Dri, and Casr straight ahead there. Tau comes next, I'm told."
"So they say." Then the sailor pulled a face. "We're traders, Shonsu, not explorers. Traders trade back and forth―usually between two cities, sometimes a stretch of three or four. If the Goddess does not return us to Hoot, then we'll trade here just as happily. Ki San and Dri will do fine. I admit I like the climate, though I'm told the winters are bad. We'll study what sells and what's needed. We weren't even planning to go on to Tau, but I suppose we still have to find you some swordsmen. If there are none in Tau, then we'll bring you back to Casr. Or Ki San. You'll be on your feet
by then."
Wallie had been hoping that Tomiyano would have been more inquisitive. He ought to know more of the geography than Honakura and Katanji had been able to uncover; but obviously not, Brota had shown the same lack of interest.
"On the left bank, Captain, we know of Aus and Wal―sorcerer cities. Next comes Sen. But I know of another one ahead, further upstream."
"What's that?"
"Ov."
"But..." The sailor scowled. "That was where you'd come from, when we met you? That's weeks back, Shonsu!"
To a sailor there were only two directions in the World: up and down River. Distance was measured in days. Patiently Wallie began to explain, drawing invisible maps on the hatch cover with his fingers. The River made a loop―north from Ov, then west, around or through the mountains, and then south to Aus. The Black Lands upstream from Ov were the same Black Lands that lay downstream from Aus. There was the god's circle that must be turned.
He had worked it out during his convalescence, only to discover that his companions already knew. Honakura had seen it first, on the top of the pass, or so he claimed, when Wallie had pointed out the River ahead and had argued that it must flow south. Nnanji had probably learned it from Katanji.
Eventually logic overcame the sailor's prejudices. He nodded. Sapphire was sailing up the west side of a loop. Already the mountains of RegiVul lay to the east and south, and they had been northeast of Aus. At Ov, they had lain to the northwest.
"You expect us to take you all the way around to Ov, Shonsu?" he demanded angrily.
"I have to go back to Ov, Captain, and turn the circle. Whether that means the city itself or the manor house where we started, I don't know. Whether we travel there on Sapphire or not, I don't know. But it would help if you asked some sailors in Casr. How far is it? How many cities have the sorcerers seized? The old man says he knows, but he's just guessing."
Seven, of course, Honakura said―it would have to be seven. Wallie had not disputed the point, because he was developing a hard respect for the priest's superstitions.
