Cloak of the Two Winds

by Jack Massa

  A shimmering gray wall loomed over the island to windward, a snow squall blown across the frozen sea from the South Pole. They would need to land quickly to beat the storm.

  Ilga was low and rugged. The white of snow and rime dominated the landscape, except where short conifers grew in clusters or dark lichens clung to wind-blasted rock. As they neared the island, domed lodge houses came into view, widely spaced along the beaches, clustered together in the village farther inland. The houses were made of yulugg hide stretched over the giant ribs of that sea beast, each with two or more domes linked by low tunnels.

  Lonn sailed along the north shore of the island until spotting his klarn's own house, built on a low rise overlooking the sea. Then he angled in toward the beach, pointing the dojuk as close to the wind as it would sail. Normally with the shore to windward he would have approached in a series of short tacks, gradually slowing the boat. But with the squall compelling haste, Lonn held his course and let the dojuk gain momentum. Speed would be needed in the last thirty yards, to clear the three- and four-foot breakers solidified by the freezewind.

  When the tack brought the boat in line with the lodge house, Lonn yelled for his mates to hold on, then swung the bow straight upwind. The sail luffed, flapping noisily overhead, and at once the dojuk slowed. It leapt the first breaker and crashed down, climbed over the second and slid into the trough, then smashed into the crystal-thin ice of the final frozen wave and shuddered to a halt just a few yards from shore.

  "Good landing, Lonn," Glyssa cried as she and Eben moved to lower the sail.

  "I'm surprised we're still in one piece," Karrol grunted. Her sneezing had finally subsided that morning, but with her nose and throat raw, her mood remained sour.

  Lonn raised the rudder off the ice and locked it in position, then climbed over the side to help his mates. Heaving all together they pushed and dragged the dojuk onto the beach.

  While the others tied the sail and lashed down the yard, Draven and Brinda climbed the snow-covered slope to the lodge house. They unlaced the entry flap on the larger dome and entered, emerging a few moments later dragging a broad sledge—the shell of a fire turtle fixed with bone runners. By the time they had pulled the sledge to the dojuk, the sailing gear had all been stowed and mooring spikes driven into the frozen ground. The wind was blowing harder.

  Lonn glanced over his shoulder at the coming storm. "We might have time for only one trip. Let's take the witch's things and the windbringers."

  "And one keg of brandy," Draven amended.

  The mates worked quickly, handing the cargo over the side and stacking it neatly on the sledge. Eben and Karrol took ice axes and filled a large tub with glassy shards chopped from the frozen wave—sea-ice for the windbringers. Lonn helped carry the tub to the sledge.

  They started up the beach, Lonn, Glyssa, Eben, and Draven on the lead ropes, Karrol and Brinda pushing from behind. The wind howled in their faces, stinging cold.

  They had hauled the sledge a third of the way to their house when Lonn stopped abruptly. A fur-cloaked figure was marching toward them from the direction of the village, carrying an ivory spear. Lonn glimpsed a furrowed face inside the hood, a hooked nose and familiar, biting eyes.

  "Greetings to you, honored Belach." Lonn shouted above the wind. The klarnmates bowed ceremoniously to the village shaman.

  Belach stopped in front of them and thrust his spear into the frozen ground. "Greetings to you, Lonn, son of Orla, and to the hunters of your klarn." Then he waited, calmly blocking their way despite the oncoming storm.

  Normally, with a boat landing unexpectedly on the island, a watch party would have come from the village to investigate. But with the squall coming on, Belach had no doubt been asked to come alone. Everyone knew shamans were impervious to the cold.

  Lonn said to him: "Honored Belach, may I invite you to share the warmth of our lodge house, so that we may have words away from the wind?"

  Belach showed a faint smile. "That is hospitable of you, Lonn. May I then assist in hauling your sled?"

  Lonn and his mates muttered their thanks. The old shaman snatched his spear from the ground and tossed it onto the sledge. He took a lead place on one of the hauling lines and started up the hill with a ferocious burst of energy. The klarnmates struggled to keep up.

  Shortly they reached the lodge house and dragged the sledge inside. The dome was twenty paces across, with walls of hide that bowed and shook now in the wind. Across from the main entrance, a low tunnel gave access to the smaller dome used for sleeping.

  Karrol and Brinda closed the door flap and tied the laces. Draven and Eben knelt to make a fire in the circular stone hearth at the center of the dome. The lodge house had come to the klarn from Glyssa’s family, so it was her role to act as host. She took a water skin from the sled, poured a cup, and offered it to Belach.

  "Share water and warmth with us, honored guest."

  Belach drained the cup and smacked his lips. "My thanks to you, Glyssa, daughter of Sorcha." He turned to Lonn. "The villagers will wish to know why your klarn has returned alone. Where are the other boats you hunted with?"

  Lonn felt all eyes turn on him. When he hesitated, Draven cheerfully supplied the answer.

  "We left the fleet to go raiding. Lonn had a dream, and it led us to a Larthangan ship. We captured it and got treasure, which we mean now to ransom or sell in Fleevanport."

  Lonn rolled his eyes, wishing briefly that Draven had been more discreet. But perhaps it was for the best after all.

  Belach was frowning, scrutinizing the sledge in the dim light of the new fire. "That is the treasure?"

  Lonn nodded. Everyone had stopped now and was watching the shaman. Belach stepped to the sledge and picked up his spear. He used it to lift a fur here and there, to poke at one of the witch's chests. Lonn noticed that Kizier was gazing intently at the shaman from his place at the back of the sledge.

  Belach started to make loud, clicking noises with his tongue. He wheeled suddenly, waving the spear in the air. Then he froze and touched a finger contemplatively to his lips.

  "There is power here. And danger."

  Lonn's heart was pounding in his chest.

  "What do you see, honored Belach?" Glyssa asked quietly.

  Belach's eyes grew large and lost focus. His mouth started clacking again. Then he shuddered, and sucked in a loud breath. He raised his finger and pointed it slowly around the chamber. "Much power. Strong winds. You are like terns, blown off course by the storm. Long voyage. Far away."

  Lonn glanced around at his mates. They stood in the shuddering firelight, enthralled by the shaman's words and the power of his vision.

  "What should we do?" Glyssa murmured.

  Belach blinked. "Don't know. Powers are from far away—far from Iruk seas…Klarn must decide…All of you must hold fast to the klarn." He nodded, as though satisfied with that advice. Then he shook himself. "I will go back to the village now."

  He began to turn away, then stopped and touched his spear-point to Lonn's chest. "If you gain goods in Fleevanport from this treasure, you must share a fair portion with the village. Remember."

  Like many of the younger Iruks, Lonn and his mates were apt to linger when they traded in the Tathian settlements, enjoying themselves till their money ran out. Hence the shaman's stern reminder.

  "Of course," Lonn answered. "We understand."

  The shaman smiled at the others, then stepped toward the entrance. Lonn and Glyssa hastened to untie the flap for him. Belach stopped a moment and placed a hand on Glyssa's shoulder, then bent his head and marched out into the storm.

  "I want to have a meeting," Glyssa announced, as she bent to re-tie the cords. "We need to talk about this."

  "I agree," Karrol said. "The sooner the better."

  Lonn sighed, but made no protest. Any klarn member had the right to call a meeting. And after hearing the shaman's words, it would be well if everyone spoke their piece.

  "Let’s bathe and eat first," Drav
en said.

  "Yes," Eben agreed. "Whatever we decide, we’re not going anywhere till this storm ends."

  Lonn glanced at the others, who nodded their assent. "All right," he said, picking up a spear. "Then let us put the klarn to rest."

  The Iruks each took a spear from the sled and followed Lonn to the doorway. Glyssa went to a cache in the far wall and brought out a ceremonial cup, made from the skull of one of her ancestors, fitted with gold. She filled the cup with water, then brought a spear and lined up beside the others.

  Glyssa sipped from the cup, then poured out a little water for the klarn soul. She thrust her spear into the ground and said, "For now the hunt is over. Let the klarn be at rest."

  She passed the cup to Karrol, who repeated her words and actions. Each of the mates did likewise, Lonn last of all, so that the klarn soul went out of their bodies and into the spears, which stood as a barrier to guard the entrance of the house.

  The ritual ended, Lonn experienced a familiar weariness in his bones. But the peace and contentment that usually followed the closing of a hunt were missing. Instead, he felt unease at remembering Belach’s warnings, and a nagging apprehension over what the meeting would decide.

  The mates set to work unpacking the sledge and making the lodge house ready. They placed the witch's things against the wall, near the crawl-tunnel that led to the smaller dome. Lonn and Brinda carried the windbringers and the tub of sea-ice to the hearth. Draven and Glyssa lit fires under two massive cauldrons, filled with ice, that stood along the wall. Karrol laid an iron grill over the hearth. Eben opened a cache in the floor where meat was stored in the permafrost. He brought out strips of lamnocc meat and laid them on the grill. Karrol lit two Tathian lanterns, made of bronze and glass, for extra warmth and illumination.

  Lonn started to open the brandy keg but Glyssa said they should drink tea instead. She didn't want the meeting swayed by the recklessness of strong drink. Brinda and Karrol seconded her on this, so Lonn filled a kettle with water and set it over the fire to boil.

  The mates removed their harnesses and boots and warmed their feet on the hearthstones. Kizier and Azzible gazed contently at the fire, the ice in their pails melting away. The red meat thawed on the grill, fat dripping down and hissing in the flames. Presently the kettle rattled. The Iruks brewed black Tathian tea in ivory mugs. As soon as the meat was cooked they picked it off the grill with their knives and started eating.

  By the time they had finished the meal, the ice in the cauldrons had melted and the water warmed. The Iruks took turns filling two wooden tubs and bathing. Soaking in hot water was a luxury hunters enjoyed whenever possible. But this night Lonn felt too preoccupied to fully relax.

  After their baths the mates dressed in warm indoor robes, fur hats, and slippers. They sat in a circle beside the hearth, knee to knee. They kept silence for a long time, listening to the wind and the soft sputtering of the flames. Finally, Glyssa stood. As she had called the meeting, it was her place to begin.

  "I have a bad feeling about robbing the witch," she said. "I've had it from the start. Everyone laughs it off, but it keeps coming back."

  "I've not been laughing," Karrol muttered. "I was against following Lonn's dream from the beginning."

  "True," Glyssa replied. "Not everyone has laughed…What troubles me is, we don't know what we've taken on. We don't know what this witch can do. If we believe Kizier and that Larthangan skipper, then she's very strong. And that 'minor spell' that Karrol took in the face: that was real enough. Lonn had bad dreams the night after we stole the treasure. And now Belach has warned us of danger. I have a feeling that something is hunting us. I think it must be the witch."

  "Let her come if she can find us," Draven said. "We're keeping a lookout, and sleeping with our weapons close."

  "Sure," Glyssa said. "But that might not be enough. I want us to reconsider what to do with the loot. That's why I called the meeting."

  "What would you have us do with it?" Eben asked.

  "I'm not sure. But we don't have to take it to Fleevanport. We could go and barter it at another harbor. Or we could run it out on the ice and dump it. I don't know. I want to hear from the rest of you now."

  As she took her seat, Lonn glanced uneasily around the circle. Glyssa's words had stirred up his own uncertainty. Yet backing down from their current course felt impossible.

  Karrol rose to speak. "You all know how I feel about this venture. I've thought it a waste of time from the start. And I'm the one who's suffered from it. I want nothing more to do with this witch's hoard. I'd just as soon take it out on the ice and leave it there. That's my opinion."

  She sat down heavily, and Draven jumped up.

  "Mates, I feel we are worrying far too much. I took a close look at the witch in her trance, and she didn't appear so powerful to me. Even if she can track us across the open sea, as the windbringer claimed, I am not afraid to face her, either here or in Fleevanport. As for Belach, it's true that he sensed danger, but also great power. He did not predict disaster for us, only a long voyage far from our familiar seas. If that comes true, is it so bad? Why did we leave the other boats and go pirating on our own, if not to find some excitement and adventure? So I say we cast away our fears and sail to Fleevanport as planned. That is my opinion."

  When Draven sat down, the Iruks looked from one to another. Lonn sensed that now was the moment to speak. Grunting, he climbed to his feet.

  "I have respect for Glyssa's intuition," he said. "But in this matter, I must agree with Draven. I may have had bad dreams the night after we looted the ship, but if so they were vague and confusing, and I don't recall them now. I still remember the first dream, in which this treasure brought us wealth. It was a strong, promising dream. We've often talked about wanting more than the life we have now, a richer life such as the Tathians enjoy, with more comforts, less worry about running out of food in the winters. That's why our people took to pirating in the first place. I think this treasure might be our chance for such a life. So I say we stick to our plan. That is my opinion."

  He sat down and looked around at the others, trying to judge if his appeal had swayed them. After some moments of silence, Eben stood.

  "There is something to be said for both sides," he remarked. "We might have been rash in stealing from this witch when we don't know the extent of her powers. But that is over and done with. So then, supposing the witch finds us? If we're trying to dump her things, or return them, or take them elsewhere but Fleevanport, she'll realize we changed our plans from fear of her, and she'll have that much more advantage. It seems our best choice now is to stick to the course we've started on, and to face the witch boldly when we meet her. That is my opinion."

  After Eben sat down, Brinda climbed slowly to her feet. She was Karrol's sister, yet their temperaments could not have been more different. Stoical and quiet, Brinda always weighed decisions at length and was often the last to speak in a meeting.

  "It is a reckless venture we're on, mates," she began. "But we knew that from the start. I also put great store in your feelings, Glyssa. But as things stand, more recklessness seems called for. Eben gives me good reasons and besides, we're not likely to sell the loot for much outside of Fleevanport. So let's sail to Fleevanport and see what happens. That is my opinion"

  Lonn nodded his approval as Brinda sat down. "Four of the klarn agree," he told Glyssa and Karrol. "Will you two also be guided by us?"

  The question was a point of ritual. The dissenters could ask for a vote, but this obviously would not change the decision.

  "We may as well," Karrol said. "It's plain you won't see things our way."

  Glyssa looked uneasy, but nodded her agreement. "I suppose you're right. At this point, going on with it is probably best. Still, if we had it to do over ..."

  "But we don't," Draven laughed.

  The Iruks put their hands together in pile. "We will sail to Fleevanport and sell our booty there," Lonn intoned. "This is the decision of the klarn."
<
br />   "Agreed," they all said, and separated their hands.

  "Now let's have some drink and toast to our luck in Fleevanport," Draven said.

  The Iruks filled their tea mugs with the purple brandy of Nyssan and drank, leaning on furs piled in front of the fire. Lonn felt the pleasant warmth of the liquor seep into his blood, dulling his apprehensions. Soon he was light-headed and sleepy.

  Glyssa stared somberly into the fire and drank almost nothing. When the others spoke of going off to bed, she volunteered to keep the first watch.

  "One of us can stay with you," Brinda offered.

  Glyssa shook her head. "I'll be fine. I'll have Kizier to keep me company."

  The mates climbed to their feet. One by one, they embraced Glyssa.

  "Keep a spear close," Eben told her. "And shout out if there's anything strange."

  "I will."

  Lonn hugged Glyssa and kissed her on the lips. "When your watch is over wake me," he whispered. "We can lie together."

  Glyssa smiled and tugged the hat over his eyes. "Go to sleep," she said.

  Carrying their swords and cups and the half-empty keg of brandy, Lonn and the others crept through the low tunnel to the inner dome. They lit a fire in the oil stove, and piled bed-furs on the sleeping platforms.

  Soon the dome was warm, though the squall blew outside with untiring fury. Listening to the storm, Lonn felt a twinge of apprehension, and wondered if he should not go and stand watch with Glyssa. But it was only the wind, he told himself, and soon he drifted off to sleep.

  Left alone in the outer chamber, Glyssa put on her leggings and boots, then went to check the entry flap of the dome. Satisfied the knots were secure, she returned to the fireplace.

  The ice in the bostull's pails had all melted, so Glyssa emptied them at a place where no furs carpeted the sandy floor. She refilled the pails with seawater from the wooden tub. Green-leafed creatures, the bostulls mostly nourished themselves with light and air. But they needed fresh seawater every few days to stay healthy. Azzible breathed happily as the warmed water swelled his roots. Kizier whispered his thanks, then questioned Glyssa in Low Tathian.