"Perhaps you have some trifle or two which would serve to amuse the emperor. You may stay two days. Now show me what you have to trade."
For the next four hours Leeta pretended to act as intermediary while Gutan and I supposedly bargained. She was a whiz at it. He blustered and browbeat her but she held her ground in the end a deal was struck. She had seen Bolan go through the same process in his dealings with other tribes and she had learned her lesson well.
We traded two small casks of spices from the Tree for a quantity of dried meat which would be easy to carry and of more use to us. The dried meat looked edible but not especially tasty. The spices I thought were horrible. Had Leeta not convinced me that they were highly prized I would have viewed them only as a pile of half composted leaves some cat had been using for a litter box. They were not fragrant. . . .They stank.
Most importantly we were able to agree on a trade of three Drakor hides for services of two guides and canoes to take us down river. One canoe would hold Leeta and me and most of our goods while the other would, if we were lucky, accommodate Lady Camille.
Theoughout the bargaining the chief ate from dishes and skewers brought to him by attendants. Leeta and I had nothing. From vintage 2-D jungle movies I’d watched as a kid I had the notion that there would be a big feast to celebrate the conclusion of the deal. No such luck.
When it was over the big cheese simply dismissed us with a wave of his hand. Underlings brought out the dried meat and we turned over the spices. Leeta held the line on not paying in advance for the guides and canoe. That was that. End of negotiations.
We built a fire of our own near the edge of the village and set about to prepare the evening meal. The dried meat wasn't bad when stewed up with the fresh local vegetables. Leeta traded for them, exchanging some bright shells from her necklace for an arm load of vegetables. The local females seemed pleased with the trade. For one so young Leeta was incredibly independent and self-reliant.
We filled Lady Camille in on the day's negotiations and how we would have transportation down river to a point closer to where we would cross the mountains.
"Peter, I know you mean well, but I do not know if I can go with you. Although there are a few rivers on my world my people never venture near or try to cross them except in the dry season. A few of us know how to stay near the surface in deep water but I do not. In deep water I could easily die. Have you not noticed that I never approach the shore as you and Leeta do?. You seem to enjoy being near to it. You fling rocks to bounce across its surface. I find only fear. No Peter, I must follow my own path along the shore."
"I understand. On my world too there are some who fear the waters and who would die in them. We will all go together along the shore.”
Throughout the next day villagers came by where Leeta had laid out a few trade items on a drakor hide. She was offered everything from prepared food to caged live animals. Our strategy was to try and lighten our load by trading our bulkier items for something lighter or more compact, but still easily traded.
I'd spent most of the morning working some rough cloth Leeta had obtained into a new outfit. Adam and Eve may have gotten by with a wardrobe of leaves but the garments I'd put together when I first arrived were long past their prime. I was surprised they had lasted this long.
The new costume was of basically the same design. This time, however my tunic was of a coarsely woven material that had some characteristics of both wool and cotton. I really couldn't tell what it was made of. Leeta thought it came from the seed pods of some plant which she described as having long stringy fibers when dried. In any event the stuff was strong and comfortable. Un-dyed, it had a pleasant light grey color of its own.
Sitting in the sun, enjoying the parade of visitors who came to trade and to haggle with Leeta I realized how much we all needed a break from the days on the trail. While I went to work on new soles for my boots Lady Camille had wondered off again through the village. The place wasn't large, maybe fifty or so log and mud huts, so I knew that she wouldn't be far from us if she needed help.
She looked enough like the beasts that we had seen on the plains west of the transporter station to pass for creature indigenous to this world. The villagers may have thought her odd, or ugly but they had no reason to think she was an alien. Similarly, they must have seen humanoids such as Leeta and I for they took no special notice of us apart from the fact that we were strangers.
In mid afternoon I was summoned to the longhouse for another audience with the chief. With Leeta again acting as “interpreter” he first asked and then insisted that we open our bags and display before him all that we carried with us.
I directed her to refuse at first but the chief insisted, claiming that it was a sort of inspection prior to our departure downriver tomorrow. A check, he claimed, to make sure none of their national treasures would leave the village.
Several of his attendants dragged our bags in from where we had left them and stood menacingly while we debated the issue. At last it seemed that unless we were ready for a fight right then our only choice was to comply. One by one we opened each of the bags and it's displayed its contents. To read an alien's face is not easy, but I would have sworn I saw the chief's eyes light up when he saw some of the metal utensils we had and oddly, when he saw a copy of the map which had been stowed in our bags. Both of us were prepared for trouble. I caught Leeta scanning the room for exits and could imagine that she was thinking about which would offer us the best chance of getting out with out lives.
The interview, however, ended peacefully with the old chief sitting above us stroking his tail while reassuring us that he regretted the necessity of inconveniencing us in this "slight" manner. We had to drag the bags back to the campsite ourselves. The old boy assured us that the boats and guides would be ready at dawn to take us down river. We said nothing to suggest our change of plans. When we got back to our camp on the edge of the village the Lady was waiting for us.
"Peter, I have much to tell you, but I must not be seen or overheard talking. . . I'll meet you at the foot bridge we passed on the way here."
From the edge of the foot bridge we had a clear view of the trail for 15 or 20 meters in either direction. The splash of the stream it spanned masked all but the louder sounds. To further confuse anyone who might be watching I used the curry comb that the Lady had made and brushed out her fur as we talked softly in her language.
"No one can hear us. What is it Lady"?
"Today as I walked through the village I heard some of the villagers talking. Two of the males were complaining that the chief would keep all of the goods as he usually did, that he would not even share the scraps that were left over. I wasn't sure but I felt that they must be talking about the products of a hunt they had been on or some other local matter. I moved on. Later I paused near the long house when the chief and some others were coming out. I heard him say to them that he would expect them to gather two. . .some word I could not understand, two somethings after sunset and that the work would take only a few minutes. Then Peter, he pointed his evil paw at me and joked that although I would be tough there was much good meat on my bones. His accomplices laughed at this."
"That sounds bad. They plan to kill us. I don't like leaving Leeta alone. Let’s get back."
Just after dark that evening I took my crystal knife and slipped down to the river where a dozen or so large canoes were tied. Each of these was formed of some light "balsa" wood. Empty they floated high out of the water. I cut the tethers on eight of them and pushed them one by one into the current.
Two minutes later Leeta arrived with the first load of excess supplies. I returned and made myself conspicuous at our larger than usual campfire. When she returned I slipped away with another load of items we deemed non essential. The last of the canoes was guided into the current. Chances were that they wouldn't drift far without getting lodged in some rock or stuck in an eddy but what we were doing would buy us a little time. It would have been impractical to try
and sink them. They were so buoyant that even with large holes in their hulls they might have been usable to some degree.
I hoped old Gutan and his boy scouts would think we had gone downriver taking all our goods with us. In fact we were going to beat feet to the south on a course parallel to, but well back from the river.
We let the fire die down and made obvious preparations for going to sleep for the night. I poured the last of the stew on the fire to douse it. Then, as we'd planned, we each picked up our bundles and headed for the footbridge.
Assembled there in the dark I cautioned the others for the real need to stay together. I still wasn't sure if Lady Camille understood that our lives where in danger. On this world killing wasn't just part of the mythology of the race. It was a part of the daily routine.
Both whispered that they understood and we struck out through the woods to circle the village. Beneath our feet the ground was somewhat soft from a rainfall three days ago. For that I was grateful. It would ruin my whole evening if Gutan or one of his goons heard us tromping around out here trying to by pass the village.
The land behind the village sloped slightly upward. Most of the natural underbrush had been cleared away by villagers searching for firewood. We walked through a fairly open forest. We were making fair time. Only the smaller of the planet's moons had risen but is gave enough light to allow us to avoid large obstacles. We were a good 300 meters above the village and as yet there was no sign that out absence had been detected. My heart was still pounding but at least it had returned to its accustomed place in my chest and was no longer in my throat.
Below us I heard a shout and then a series of curses which I could not follow completely. We saw a dozen or more torches lit and knew we had been missed. One of the torches detached from the group, ran to where the boats had been tied and then returned. More cursing came from the group of torches near the center of the village...that would be Gutan. Within minutes we could see torches moving out of the village and down the trail along river.
The smaller moon was near the zenith and its larger companion well above the horizon by the time I finally called a halt. Traveling in silence through bushes and thickets, being scratched by thorny vines and terrorized by the cries of prowling predators is not my idea of a good time. We needed the rest.
I sat down at the base of a large tree on the side of a rocky knoll and motioned the others to halt. Leeta slumped down beside me but Lady Camille was gone!
CHAPTER 11
Eight days, perhaps two hundred kilometers, and couple of narrow escapes later Leeta and I stood on a hilltop overlooking a town we later discovered was “Mon-ton”. It was a real town, almost a city, of cobbled streets, mostly stone buildings, wharves and warehouses. A large building, likely the civic or administrative center rose on slightly higher ground not far from the center of town. To the north a city wall cut across the peninsula. Rivers bound the town on two sides. The slightly smaller and slower Ton which we had followed out of Gutan's "Empire" made a large loop here before joining the larger Mon which flowed swift and clean from the slopes of the mountains. From our vantage point we could see it passed over a series of short falls and rapids before flattening out as it skirted the town. At each jump were stone buildings with waterwheels capturing the power of the falling water and transferring it to small factories. A light haze hung above this industrial section from the fires of commercial operations.
The town was just where the map showed it to be. I only wished that Lady Camille were here on the hilltop to see it with us. We had searched, called her name as loudly as we dared the evening she became lost. For three days we lurked in the in the area searching for her, narrowly avoiding more than once parties of Gutan's boys. The evening after the Lady was separated from us I slipped back to the ridge above the village just before sunset. There was no sign of her anywhere there. Short of walking back in and asking if anyone had seen a stray alien I didn't know what else to do.
Beside the loss of our colleague and friend we also had to realize that we had lost the biggest part of our trade goods. Camille had been carrying them for us. We were sadder, perhaps wiser, and definitely poorer as we looked across the Ton to where the city filled the tongue of land between the two waterways.
Docks, most of them made of stone lined the waterfront on two sides of town. Tied up along them we could see a dozen or more flat, wide riverboats probably meant for the cargo trade.
Riding like swans among mud hens were two larger vessels anchored mid stream. These were being served by lighters. They likely drew too much water to tie up near shore. Both vessels were three masted, broad a beam, but with good lines even to my land lubber’s eye. The main mast was square rigged, the other masts schooner rigged with an odd combination of jibs and other canvass I couldn't begin to identify. From the top of each mainmast flew a long triangular pennant of purple and rose.
Behind the wharves of the riverfront rose a collection of respectable looking stone buildings. From the towers of some of these flew pennants of other colors. A large one flew from the fortified building near the center of town. This could only have been the seat of the local civic authority. As we approached a landing across from the town we could see the city wall rising from banks of the Ton perhaps half a kilometer up river. Four meters high it stretched a protective arm of stone across the peninsula, blocking the land approaches to the town.
This time of morning there was light traffic on the rough road leading down to the landing. We met one or two creatures of the tree people's race, and a couple more of more reptiloid origin. Otherwise the early rising travelers were all humanoid. They could have been Viking raiders or mountain men from the old west. Whether short or tall most had the lean muscled look of men who worked outdoors and who knew how to handle themselves in rough situations.
The sole woman we met was heavy and about 175 cm tall. If you have ever seen parodies of the women of the old eastern block nations you know the type I mean. Their language was a variant of Leeta's Neslan, with enough odd pronunciations, to make it difficult understand. I did respond to their greetings of "Vestrushe" as each passed. Like "aloha" or Shalom" it meant a host of things but translated best as "good journey".
The most immediate problem Leeta and I had was that our food supply was nearly exhausted, we had no cash, and very little in the way of trade goods. By the time we reached the landing where a flat-bottomed ferry provided access to the town I realized that we had nothing with which to pay the ferryman.
Again Leeta came to our rescue with her better command of the language and sharp bargaining skills. I can't imagine John Carter or Tarl Calbot or Dray Prescot or any of the other swashbuckling heroes ever arranged passage this way but. . . instead of fighting our way aboard we were soon “shoveling” for our passage. Leeta had arranged for us to shovel out a large accumulation of animal droppings in the bottom of the ferry to pay for our crossing.
We were given a scoop shovel carved from a log. The blade of the shovel was reinforced by a thin strip of metal folded over the end and then tacked in place. It took the two of us half an hour of hard scooping and scraping to clear the deck. By that time the boatman had accumulated enough passengers for a trip and signaled us that he was ready to cast off. Sharing the ride with us was an old woman with an enormous load of firewood on her head, three farmers with baskets of vegetables bound for the city market, and a man with a small flock of webbed footed birds which he herded along ahead of him with a long willowy stick. Either the birds were flightless or their wings had been clipped for they hopped aboard when he drove them to the edge of the craft.
We pushed out in the current from slightly above the town. The morning mist had risen and the pink glow on the grey stone of the town was lovely. The boatman and his assistants really worked to cross against a current that was stronger than I would have guessed.
While the skipper steered two deck hands worked large sweeps to propel the craft. With a precision that comes from constant practice the
ferryman and his crew brought us alongside a stone quay. From the quay a cobbled street lead through a massive gate into the town. A sleepy guard leaning on the haft of a battle-ax scarcely looked up as we passed through the gate and entered Mon-ton.
On the wharves behind us the level of activity was picking up. Craft large and small were loaded with bundles, barrels, and bales (probably filled with bobbles, bangles, and beads!) from the warehouses lining the wharf. Along this main thoroughfare were a number of taverns and inns. In many of these we saw boat crews having breakfast or the first fermented beverage of the day. Some of the smells were quite enticing. At the open window of one some sausages were being cooked on a grill placed over a charcoal fire. Hot bread from an oven had been left there until cool.
"Leeta, Do we have anything we might trade for breakfast?"
"I have the drakor skin which I used to display goods at the river-people's village. We must find the shops of the fur traders and see what we can get for it."
Leeta stopped a passing Nuga and asked directions. The Nuga were more familiar to her. Her only memories of humanoids like herself were distant ones.
We found the shops of the fur merchants near western gate on a narrow street paralleling the river. Rope makers, basket, cask and barrel sellers, blacksmiths, fine metal workers, shipwrights, and other tradesman were opening for business as we made our way through the streets. Here and there a stray animal, mostly parti-colored hrranths which Leeta told me were common as pets, watched our progress.
Beneath a sign showing only a stretched pelt on a drying frame we found a potential buyer. He was squat and solidly built with a mat of dark locks and a pepper and salt beard. His clothes were of a durable cloth dyed pale yellows and brown. About his middle hung a leather bag, a pair of shears, and a scabbard holding a curved knife with a wickedly shaped blade. The shop that he was opening just as we arrived was secured by a heavy wooden grillwork reinforced at key points with metal rods.
The Ways Between Worlds: Peter Cooper Page 9
