by Jack Massa
"Bring axes and hammers," Troneck ordered them, "and oil stoves to set on the ice. Rouse the night crew. Every man's to work."
Amlina and the Iruks were first down the ladders, Troneck and his men descending after. In the frosty blue sea light, they crouched and peered beneath the hull.
The whole length of the keel was embedded, two feet or more at the deepest parts. The two ice runners on the port side were deeply buried as well. Here and there a rib had caught an inch or so of ice, but otherwise the outer planking was free. Still, the crewmen shook their heads and muttered in fretful voices.
"It'll take us days to chop free with this crew," Karrol said, glaring at the slender Larthangans. "Or months."
"We'll be here months if we don't cut free," Brinda replied. "We can't count on another meltwind, not this late in the season."
"We're lucky it wasn't worse in this bucket," Eben said.
It wasn't luck, Lonn thought, it was Amlina's guidance. But he did not make this claim to his mates.
Ice axes, hammers, and stakes were lowered from the deck of the Plover. The Iruks gathered with the crewmen to receive the tools. Troneck and his lieutenants handed them out and assigned everyone places to dig. The Iruks were given heavy axes and asked to start at the rudder. This was the task Lonn would have chosen for his klarn, for there the ice was deepest and the Iruks had more muscle than the Larthangans.
After the tools were distributed Amlina spoke to the crew. "Work as hard and fast as you can. I shall likewise be working in my way. I believe we shall soon be free of this obstacle. You must believe it also." She ended with a pointed glance at Troneck, then moved to climb back on board.
Some of the crewmen started to chop above the ice runners while the rest crept beneath the hull to work. Lonn and his mates walked to the stern and arranged themselves around the buried rudder. Setting their ridged boots wide apart, they lifted their axes and brought them down, attacking the ice with vigorous, determined strokes. The ice near the surface, last to be formed, shattered easily when struck. Lower down the sea was frozen harder and soon their heaviest blows shocked back at them, rattling their bones. Still they continued battering away at a furious pace. The sea would only freeze harder in the night and, should a snowstorm blow in, it could bury the coaster twice as deep.
Only when the ache in their backs and arms became unbearable would the Iruks pause to warm themselves at one of the oil stoves. Three of the portable stoves had been lowered from the ship and fired up, not only to warm the crewmen but to heat the iron spikes their mallets drove into the ice.
As twilight dimmed the overcast sky, the Iruks were nearing the bottom of the rudder. The cook had boiled up a thin soup that he lowered over the side in covered pots. Of all the crew members only the elderly cook was exempted from the ice chopping, a mark of the Larthangans' characteristic veneration of the aged. The soup, along with a double ration of brandy, was drunk from cups while the work continued. The wind, which had lulled in the afternoon, stirred again in the gathering dark—a chill whisper around the coaster's ornate hull.
Finally the Iruks finished with the rudder, chipping away the last of the ice with their knives. Lonn and Karrol swung the rudder back and forth on its pivot to be sure it would turn. Then the mates shouldered their axes and climbed from the hole they had dug.
By now the forward ice runner had been freed, and a low trench cut so it could ride up onto the ice. Work on the aft runner was well along. So, after warming themselves, the Iruks crawled beneath the hull to join the work on the keel.
This labor proved more tedious. The curve of the hull overhead forced them to kneel or crouch at a sidewise angle. The ice was difficult to reach, much less strike with an axe.
By midnight the crewmen were nearly spent, their efforts growing feeble. Although the keel was still embedded a foot deep, Troneck elected to try pulling free. Twin lengths of thick anchor chain were drawn from low portholes in the bow, their ends fastened to iron spikes. Two parties of Larthangans dragged the chains well ahead of the ship and hammered the spikes in deep.
Meantime the strongest of the Larthangans and the five Iruks climbed up the accommodation ladders and entered the forecastle. Down a spiral of steps, below the level of the galley and the seamen's quarters, Troneck and his men led the Iruks to a wide compartment dominated by a great capstan. The capstan was couched on a mechanism of gears and weights and attached to the two lengths of anchor chain. The device was fashioned to augment the strength of those turning the capstan drum. Normally used to raise the anchor, it had this second function, to help free the ship when icebound.
The Iruks placed themselves at the capstan bars with the Larthangans, so that every space was filled. They turned the wheel until the chains clinked taut, then waited. On a signal relayed from the foredeck they began to push.
Tired as they were, the Iruks and Larthangans pushed with all their strength. The chains tightened about an inch, but no more.
"Push!" Troneck groaned, straining at the bar next to Lonn.
The drum moved a little, then slipped back. The ship creaked but did not budge. The relay man at the door kept waving them on, but they could not get the capstan to turn.
Three times the Iruks and Larthangans heaved in unison, hissing and grunting. Each time it seemed the ice must give and the ship lunge forward, if only they could push a bit harder. Each time they failed and collapsed on the bars in pain and exhaustion.
After the third attempt Troneck gave up. He ordered his men upstairs for food and sleep and sent the same word to those still out on the ice. Lonn considered disputing this decision, but only for a moment. He and his mates were as weary as the Larthangans, and it seemed that a few hours work in the warmth of the day, with all hands rested, should be enough to free the ship.
When Lonn woke and looked out the window the next morning, he knew it had been a mistake to quit. Wet snow was falling, a steady shower plummeting down from a gloomy sky.
The Iruks fortified themselves with hot food and brandy in the galley, then took their axes and climbed down to the ice. The crewmen were already at work, shadowy figures in the falling snow, which shrouded the sealight and lent an eerie pall to the scene. The snow was shin-deep, and the men had to constantly shovel it aside to uncover the ice. Lonn estimated that two or three inches of the snowfall had already frozen, burying all parts of the ship that much deeper. The Iruks marched to the stern and began digging at the rudder.
The day passed cold and miserable, the workers struggling just to keep the ship from freezing in any farther. Stiff and sore, their muscles protested every exertion. Larthangans and Iruks alike suffered cramps and had to stand over the stoves until they passed. During one such period Lonn observed the line of bent sailors working at the keel. They seemed to chip and hammer with listless indifference, as though they had already accepted defeat. Lonn cursed as he returned to work, his sense of desperation growing.
Nightfall brought a drop in temperature and an even lower sinking of morale. The snow kept blowing, piling up about the keel and runners, diminishing the seaglow until the work crews could no longer see where to strike. Lanterns were brought down from the ship, and in their weak light the labor continued. But it was soon apparent that in the dark the voyagers were losing their battle with the storm, falling behind the rising tide of freezing snow.
In those hours it was only the thought of Glyssa, her name spoken one to another, that kept the Iruks from giving up. The Larthangans had no such incentive. More and more they stood around the stoves, staring dumbly at the piling snow and the dark, unmoving hull. Troneck's threats and curses had no more effect than his shouts of encouragement and soon he abandoned both. When one of the sailors laid open his foot with an errant axe stroke, the captain called a halt.
"It's no use, men. Pack up and get on board. We'll have to wait till this weather breaks."
"Stop!" Lonn struggled through the snow to where the captain stood, the other Iruks tramping behind. "If we qu
it now we may never get out," Lonn shouted.
Troneck waved the objection aside. "It's no good. My people are exhausted. So are yours. We'll have to wait is all."
The Larthangans were trudging past, heading for the ladders. Lonn felt they must be stopped, but could think of no way short of force. He turned to his Iruks and saw dejection and utter weariness on their faces.
"What's the use?" Eben muttered. "We're not doing any good."
Even Karrol did not argue to stay.
Lonn shook his head in disgust and shouldered his axe. The Iruks lined up with the Larthangans to climb the ladders.
They ate a cheerless supper in the galley, then returned to their compartment in the stern. They barely had the energy to light the stove and pull off their wet clothes before crawling under the furs to sleep.
The klarnmates awoke early in the morning and pushed open the small windows. The storm was over but it was impossible to tell from their angle how much snow had piled about the ship. They put on their dry and stiff clothing and dragged themselves upstairs to the main deck.
The sky was white, covered by high, light clouds. The decks seemed deserted; no watch had been posted. Then Lonn spotted Amlina leaning over the railing amidships. She turned as the Iruks approached, looking as drained and tired as Lonn felt, yet she smiled.
"The ice is not too deep."
Lonn glanced over the side to check by the runners. It was not so bad as he had expected. The snow must have ended soon after they had gone to bed. Still, after two days of chopping, they were slightly worse off than when they started.
"I hope your efforts are nearer to success than ours," Eben told the witch. "Otherwise we may be stuck here half a year."
"Shun negative thinking," Amlina replied. "I have cast a design into the Deepmind whereby we shall soon be sailing free. Now we all must apply positive belief to that design."
"Does that mean we can stop digging?" Karrol asked.
Amlina ignored the sarcasm in her tone. "On the contrary, positive belief must be accompanied by positive action. We must do all we can to bring about the desired end. Chopping might still be the way. In fact, starting today I will be helping you with the work."
"I think you lack the brawn for such toil," Draven observed. "Couldn't you help us better by weaving more witchery?"
Amlina smiled faintly. "It's true I don't have the strength to swing a mallet or axe. But the broken fragments of ice must be cleared away, and that is work I can do. As for witchery, the design has already been cast. I shall continue to visualize our ship sailing free whenever the thought occurs to me. You should do this also, as it will reinforce the design."
"That's all your witchery can do?" Eben asked with rancor.
"That is the way of deepshaping. The more an image is seen and believed in the mind, the more likely it is to come forth into being."
"Suppose it doesn't?" Eben pressed her.
Amlina looked him calmly in the eye. "Shun negative thinking."
"Let's get to work," Lonn grunted. "I'm sure the cook hasn't fixed breakfast yet. We'll eat later."
"I'll see your food is brought down to you," Amlina said. "I'm going now to rouse the crewmen."
The Iruks lowered themselves down the creaking ladders and started to work at the rudder again. The orange sun was burning through the clouds in the east, brightening the sky.
"Let's hope we can dig the hull out soon," Eben said. "We can't rely on the witch's imagining things to get us free."
"She can do it," Draven answered. "Remember how easily she imagined us into those chains when we first came on board?"
"Forcing your will on exhausted stragglers is one thing," Eben argued. "Vying with the sea and air is another. She had no spell to bring the wind when we were becalmed."
"Eben's right," Karrol said. "If she were so mighty a witch, she could just melt the ice and we'd be on our way."
Lonn said nothing. He wanted to have faith in the witch's magic as Draven did, but the aching in his arms and the banks of ice about the ship seemed to argue for skepticism, at least.
Presently the Larthangans hauled themselves down from the ship and began to chop and hammer in their methodical manner. The Iruks paused to stand at one of the stoves and eat their breakfast. Lonn observed Amlina at work, crawling about in her coat and scarf, her gloved hands scooping chips of ice out of the way of the axes. She moved clumsily and slipped more than once while Lonn watched, yet she kept going. It was hard to tell if her presence inspired the Larthangans or not. Mostly they seemed uncomfortable, embarrassed to have the witch before them on her hands and knees.
The work that third day was a growing agony. The Iruks' vitality had been sapped by the two previous sessions, and their progress was slow and halting. Often their blows would miss or the axes slip in their sore hands, falling with a force that wrenched shoulders and backs. Cramps returned, sharper than yesterday, and the Iruks joined the haggard groups of Larthangans who spent more time around the stoves than at work on the keel and runners.
The weather turned harsh in the afternoon, cold wind gusting from the south. By evening flakes of snow were flying on that wind. Lonn sensed futility building in the hearts of his klarn.
"Another storm like yesterday and we're finished," Karrol declared.
Eben began a chant to the Spirit of Winds, begging that the storm blow away from the ship and leave them untouched. Soon all the Iruks were singing with him quietly, amid the wind and gathering dusk.
For a while it seemed the Spirit of Winds had heard them and was kindly disposed. The wind slacked off to a light breeze, and the Iruks were able to finish cutting loose the aft runner.
Now only the keel remained to be freed, and most of the Larthangans had been working on it all day. Lonn began to hope that in a few more hours they could make another try at dragging the ship out.
But then the wind picked up, laced with sleet and snow. From a long way off Lonn could see the squall approaching, sweeping over the ocean in waves, blotting out the sealight. Soon the snow was swarming thick about the trapped coaster, piling over the diggers' feet and against the keel. The sealight was smothered and the oil lamps, hastily lit, glowed dimly in the blinding storm. Snow-ice clung to the Iruks' furs, melted on their eyebrows and the men's beards, then refroze. Raw wind stung their faces.
By the time the snow was ankle deep the Larthangans had had enough. A few of them strode to the captain and shouted at him, shaking their heads and gesturing with their tools. Troneck relayed their pleas to the witch who acquiesced somberly. She could not force them to work in this weather and did not try. The crewmembers gathered their equipment and hurried to the ladders.
"What are we waiting for?" Karrol started in a grumble but her voice cracked at the end. "This is hopeless."
Blizzard winds howled about the Iruks and Larthangans as they pulled themselves up the slippery ladders in the dark.
"We'll never chop free now," Karrol declared, leaning over the port rail.
It was mid-morning and the klarn had come out on the main deck to verify what they had guessed from their window in the stern. It could hardly have been worse: fully one third of the hull had been buried by the blizzard.
"What do we do now?" Eben asked.
"I don't know," Lonn said. "What can we do?"
"Since there's no hope of digging free," Karrol answered, "I think we have no choice but to pack our furs and take to sea on our skates."
"We tried that once," Draven said. "Remember?"
"Wait," Eben held up his hands. "Maybe Karrol's right. If we stay, we'll probably be stuck here till we starve, and who knows what will happen to Glyssa? According to Troneck' s charts we're not that far from the southernmost Tathian island. We could probably skate it in three or four days and make our way to Kadavel from there."
"Even if we made it to Kadavel," Draven argued, "how would we find Glyssa and save her without Amlina's help?"
"We could try," Karrol replied. "It's better than
staying here and rotting."
"I'm not counting on rotting," Draven said. "I'm counting on the witch to get us out."
"No doubt you'll still be counting on her when the thaw comes in First Summer," Eben told him angrily. "But we can't wait that long."
"It's not a decision to make in haste," Brinda said. "I suggest we get some breakfast, then go back to our room and have a meeting."
With shrugs and frowning nods the klarnmates expressed their agreement.
Descending the steps in the forecastle, they heard Amlina's voice coming from the galley below. They found her standing beside the great iron stove, speaking to the Larthangans. The whole crew was present, slumped on the narrow benches or leaning in the doorways that led off to pantries and sleeping quarters. Amlina looked over as the Iruks reached the bottom of the stairs.
"Good morning. I'm glad you're here. I was just telling the men that much of the snow is not yet frozen. A few hours of hard shoveling now will save us many hours of ice-chopping later."
Staring dumbly, the Larthangans obviously shared none of the witch's enthusiasm. The Iruks made no comment, only walked to the wide iron stove and picked up bowls.
"After we've cleared the snow we should rest for a full day," Amlina said. "And have extra rations."
A milky stew of mashed roots and varied fish ends bubbled over the fire. The ship's cook had stubbornly refused all the Iruks' suggestions on how to prepare the wild provisions gathered on Windbock. Instead, the surly old man had insisted on adapting Larthangan recipes, with increasingly awful results. The Iruks winced as they spooned the stuff into their bowls.
"Extra rations cooked this way would be no boon," Eben told the witch irately.
The Iruks chuckled grimly or else glowered at the cook who stood nearby, bony arms crossed over his chest, frowning with sour dignity. Draven reached past him for the wineskin while the others got cups. The klarnmates sat at the only empty table, the one where Amlina stood.
