"Here was something revolutionary. It would change the whole history of ships, make sailing much faster and easier. So guess what?"
"I think I can guess," Hadon said. "I've had some experience with the military mind."
"I was thrown out! And told not to come back! That admiral, a heavy-drinking old duck, said I was crazy. In the first place the rig wouldn't work the way I said it would. And in the second place, its principle was against nature, it was blasphemous."
"I was angry, scared too, because I didn't want the admiral siccing the priests of Resu on me. I thought about going home and maybe forgetting the whole thing. Instead I went to the Temple of Piqabes on a little island near the mouth of the Gulf of Gahete. I showed the head priestess there what I had shown the naval bureaucrat. I told her how much more swiftly my ship could carry the temple mail. She liked the idea and, to make a long story short, here I am, sailing a ship built by the Temple of Kho, in the service of Awineth, taking you to a far-off city of the Southern Sea, the Kemuwopar. Think of it! I've never even been to the mainland north of here!"
Hinokly had been standing nearby. He said, "Then this ship can outrun and outsail anything on the seas?"
"No doubt about it!" Ruseth said. "The Wind-Spirit can show her heels to any craft on the two seas!"
"And if the wind fails how will she get away from a galley?"
"She won't," Ruseth said. "The only thing to do then is pray to Piqabes to raise a wind."
Hadon talked for a long time with the little redhead. Ruseth said they would proceed east along the north coast of the island but stay about ten to fifteen miles out to sea. Most of the patrolling by Minruth's navy was done very close to shore. Once the island of Khokarsa was behind them, they would sail southwesterly along the coast of the mainland toward the city of Qethruth.
"Under ordinary conditions, I would head directly southwest toward the pile-city of Rebha," Ruseth said. "But the ship is overloaded now. We don't have enough food to last us until Rebha, so we'll stop off at a village about four hundred miles upcoast from Oethruth. I've never been there, of course, but the priestess gave me directions and also a letter of introduction to the priestess at Karkoom. We'll reprovision and then cut south for Rebha."
Hadon asked what they would do if the village was blockaded. Ruseth laughed and said, "You don't know much about naval realities, do you, my tall friend? Minruth's forces are spread thin enough as they are. He doesn't have ships to blockade every little village along the coast or even on Khokarsa itself. I doubt that he even has a bireme at Qethruth."
"What about Rebha?"
"You were on Awineth's staff," Ruseth said. "What did you hear about Rebha?"
"Nothing," Hadon said. "No courier ships arrived from Rebha. It's a long way, and ships are always disappearing."
"Yes," Ruseth said. "I would guess that the navy does have some big ships stationed at Rebha. It's a very important re-provisioning and refitting port, if it can be called a port. It also controls the southern part of the Kemu and, in a sense, the Strait of Keth."
Days and nights passed without incident. The weather was generally good, though there were rains and an occasional squall. They saw ships now and then, but always at a distance. Most of them seemed to be merchant galleys or fishing ships hauling their dried cargo from the waters off the mainland to the islands.
"There are rumors that piracy is flourishing again in these parts," Ruseth said. "It's only to be expected, of course. Minruth's navy is too occupied with the war to go chasing pirates. We don't need to worry. No pirate could catch us."
"Unless there's a calm," Hinokly said.
Ruseth laughed, but he did look worried afterward.
Conditions were crowded. The cabin became too hot and odorous when they all slept in it. Whenever the weather and the seas permitted, Hadon, the scribe and the bard slept on deck. After a week, Hadon became impatient and irritable. It was impossible to lie with Lalila because of the lack of privacy; they were not Gokako, the apish slaves of Opar who coupled publicly and often en masse. Besides, there was not much to do on board a small vessel. Hadon did dissipate some of the boredom by learning all he could about sailing. Before a week was up, he was relieving the sailors in their duties.
Hadon took the rudder every day for two hours., He was nervous at first and made some bad mistakes in tacking or beating. Ruseth was at hand to take over if anything went wrong, and nothing disastrous happened.
"You're a good fair-weather sailor now," Ruseth said. "We'll find out what you are when we get a bad storm, though I pray Piqabes spares us that."
Hadon insisted that the others also learn as much as possible about the ship. For one thing, it kept them from being bored. For another, it ensured that they would not be handicapped or helpless if anything should happen to the sailors. "Also," Hadon said, "in the future we might have to handle a ship like this by ourselves. We might even have to, steal a ship and take it into the deep seas."
Because of this, Hadon also had Ruseth teach him all he could about navigation.
"The sun by day and the stars at night," Ruseth said. "Unfortunately, the Kemu is often clouded and there is much rain, though I've been told that the climate is drier and hotter than it used to be. Either way, you can't depend very often on the stars to guide you. But the lodestone compass is fairly dependable. My grandfather says that it's not so dependable in the Kemuwopar, the Sea of Opar. He claims there are too many mountains with too much iron ore along the shores."
"I doubt that," Hinokly said. And the two were off into another argument.
To make the time pass more pleasantly, Kebiwabes sang. While plucking on his tortoiseshell lyre, he recited love songs, sea chanties, ballads, mourning songs, prayers and the epics: The Song of Gahete, The Song of Rimasweth, The Song of Kethna. He also tried out on them passages and sections from his work in progress: The Song of the Wanderings of Hadon of Opar.
The subject of this enjoyed hearing his adventures recast into poetry. Much of it was exaggerated or distorted or sometimes it was even a downright lie. But he did not object. Poetry was about the spirit, not the surface, of reality. Nor did he mind at all hearing himself described in glowing terms as a hero. Modesty was not a virtue in Khokarsa.
After two weeks, they began seeing more ships. Most were fishing vessels from the coastal towns and villages, but the number of merchant galleys rose in proportion. Though the rebellion had cut down maritime trade considerably, there were still many men who would brave pirates and blockaders to make a profit.
Karkoom was a village of about five hundred in population, a cluster of huts and longhouses on stilts behind a stockade. It was at the end of a rather narrow harbor formed by two rocky peninsulas. Ruseth took the ship in cautiously, ready to run if any naval vessels were at anchor there. There was just enough room in the passage for him to wheel tightly about, though not much space for tacking or beating against the wind.
They breathed relief when they saw that the four large vessels were merchantmen. Two were from Qethruth, one from Miklemres, one from Siwudawa.
Ruseth took the ship in and tied up at a dock, Leaving two of the crew to guard the ship, Ruseth and the rest visited the local Temple of Kho. They were well received after Ruseth had handed in his letter of introduction. The head priestess, Siha, gave orders that the vessel be provisioned. She then held a small private feast for them where she heard the news from Khokarsa and passed on the news and rumors she had received in the last few months.
For the first time in a long time, Hadon and Lalila slept together—and on a bed that did not rise and fall, roll and yaw. The next day they left at noon, after, of course, a ritual blessing by the priestess.
Several priests from the Temple of Resu were also there; they seemed friendly enough. The villagers, like the citizens of Qethruth, had declared neutrality, but Hadon did not trust them. For all he knew, the priests could have sent a ship out with the news that the refugees were here. On the other hand, to whom would they
take the information?
By the time the news got to Khokarsa, it would be too late for Minruth to do anything about it. There might be a naval vessel stationed somewhere near the coast, but that wouldn't make any difference. No ship was going to catch up with the Wind-Spirit.
It was possible, however, that a message would be sent to Rebha. The priests could guess, or could find out through espionage, that Hadon was taking Lalila there.
If this was so, there was nothing he could do about it. He shrugged. He would consider the possibility when they got to their destination.
16.
Rebha rose slowly out of the southern horizon. Ruseth was delighted because he'd had to spend only two days circling the area before he found the city. During this time they passed many ships, which meant that Rebha had to be in the neighborhood. Ruseth hailed a number of them, but they were in the same situation. Some of them, convinced that the captain of this strange-looking vessel might be a magician who would know the way, had attempted to follow them. But large heavy ships depending on oars could not even keep the Wind-Spirit in sight.
"Many ships must miss Rebha," Hadon said to Ruseth.
"No," the redhead said. "Their captains have been on this route so often that they have developed an extra sense. They feel something tingle when they are in the area; they know almost to the minute when it's time to slow down and start casting about. Besides, a captain who keeps a close watch on his knottage and his compass, on the sun and the stars when they're visible, isn't going to be off course much."
An hour later, he shouted. The others came running to the tiller, which he was still handling. "See that smoke to the northwest?" he asked. "That's from the top of the tower in the center of the pile. Unless, of course," he added, "it's a ship on fire."
It was not. Late the next day they saw the upper part of the structure, called the Tower of Diheteth. This was of cedar and had been built a hundred years ago by the admiral who was its regent. Its top, five hundred feet high, was floored with stone. A large fire was kept burning there so that ships could observe its smoke or light. On a clear day the top of the smoke cloud could be seen from over a hundred and twenty miles away, provided the wind was not so strong it dissipated the smoke too quickly. On a clear night, the fire on top of the tower was visible for over twenty-six miles.
The traffic at this point was increasing: uniremes, biremes, triremes and sailing craft were on every side, though separated by hundreds of yards. Hadon was amazed at their number. Rebha had to be large to handle all these craft.
Indeed it was large, Ruseth assured him. It stood on top of a submerged island into which thousands of wooden and stone piles had been driven or built. The sea-bottom was twenty-five to fifty feet below the surface of the island, and the city rose on piles thirty to fifty feet above the island—not counting the signal tower. The piles had been sunk into the ooze overlaying the limestone surface of the broad plateau. The city was roughly circular with a diameter of two miles. The estimated population, permanent and transient, was about forty thousand.
Hadon was eager to see this fabled city on stilts. He had heard much about it on the voyage from Opar to the Great Games, but the galley taking him had bypassed it, going directly from the Strait of Kethna to the island of Khokarsa.
Ruseth refused to enter it during the day, circling it instead, waiting for nightfall. When dusk came, Ruseth headed the Wind-Spirit for the setting sun, a red coal in the dark smoke. Presently the stars came out and with them the small bright flare on top of the Tower of Diheteth. It increased in size and brilliance, rising like a star as they neared.
When they were within a mile of the vast dark pile, shot with tiny lights here and there, he hauled the mainsail,down. By this time the stink from the city, carried by the wind, was powerful.
Hinokly, who had been to Rebha once to visit his brother, explained the reason for the odor.
"All garbage, refuse and excrement is dumped into the sea beneath. Most of it is slowly carried out by the current, but much is caught by the piles and the floating docks. You saw the garbage floating in the sea when we were passing southeast of Rebha. We were miles away, yet it was thick."
"Yes," Hadon said, as he helped Hinokly with one edge of the sail. "I also saw the sea crocodiles, the gruntfish, the birds and the sea otters. There must be thousands around here, living off the garbage and the excrement."
Hinokly added, "There are so many birds that Rebha is half white with their droppings. Under the city, the crocodiles and the otters make life very dangerous for anyone who happens to fall into the water or ventures too close to the edge of the docks. Every now and then, according to my brother, a massive hunt is organized to clear the predators out. They kill a lot of crocodiles and gruntfish, though not so many otters. These are too smart; they swim out and away as soon as they get wind of the hunt. No ships can catch up with them."
"So Rebha has a big crocodile feast—they're good eating—and for a while it's comparatively safe to walk on the under docks. That is, the sea crocodiles are scarce then, though the two-legged crocodiles are not. Rebha has a serious crime problem, but what city doesn't?"
The wind died suddenly and the sea subsided into long flat rollers. As the ship slid forward on its own momentum, the crew stepped down the mast. Then they hauled out long heavy paddles and began the work of getting the vessel under the bottom of the city. It moved slowly under the bulk overhead, passing between two massive pylons bearing huge white numbers. Though it was dark, there was enough light from distant torches and large fires in braziers to see a hundred feet ahead. They steered by docks at which lay huge merchant galleys, small private galleys, fishing boats and even rowboats. Some two hundred yards in, torches flared around a building by a long dock. They were too far away to distinguish the words painted above the structure, but Hinokly said that the building housed customs inspectors and marines.
They headed away from it, passing behind a series of great monoliths and vessels in docks. Several times they bumped against a ship or grated along a dock, but their slow passage prevented any loud noise or damage. Occasionally they heard a deep grunting, like that of swine, or a slurping noise. These were made by the monstrous deep-sea fish that fed here. Hadon dimly saw one by the distant light of a cluster of torches. Its flat oily back was wide enough for three men to stand abreast; its length would have taxed him to long-jump across it. Tendrils of thick knobby flesh sprouted from above its eyes. Its mouth was shaped like two shovels, one above the other.
A few minutes later Ruseth stopped paddling. In a low voice he said, "Kwa-kemu-kawuru-wu."
Something moved a few feet away in the water to Hadon's right. Foam shone dirty white in the dimness as an object as long as their ship slid by. Hadon had an impression of knobbed eyes and a ridged back and a long tail, but that could be his imagination, since he knew it was a great sea crocodile. Then it was gone.
They resumed their paddling, feeling that at any moment rows of teeth set in iron-strong jaws might clamp on the blades of their paddles and tear them out of their hands. It had happened before, if Hinokly's stories were true.
They were forced to veer from their desired path by a brightly lit galley. Armed men moved over its decks, and from its depths came grunting and squealing and the stench of pigs.
"Livestock has to be guarded until it can be hauled up to the first level," Hinokly said. "There are human thieves, though these are not the greatest threat. The sea otters will get into a ship and suck the blood from cattle and pigs, then eat them. They won't attack a man unless cornered, but then they are as dangerous as a leopard. Maybe more so, since they are bigger than leopards. I saw a sea otter fight a leopard once—this was at a party given by my employer in Khokarsa—and the otter killed the leopard. It died two days later, though, of its wounds."
Something creaked above them. Hadon looked up and saw a faint oblong appear in the darkness about fifty feet above. Something splashed into the water, just missing the vessel, throwing
a spray against his side. The oblong disappeared.
Hinokly said, "Somebody dumped their garbage."
"Paddle faster," Ruseth said. "The noise and the odor will bring the beasts."
They hastened to obey. Hadon thought it time to ask a question: "How do you know where you're going in this dark maze?"
"The head priestess gave me a map and also verbal instructions," Ruseth said. "I was to take the ship in through the fortieth and forty-first piles from the-southwest corner along the south side. We were then to shift one row of piles to the west every twelve piles. After reaching the tenth row, we were to proceed past twenty piles to a dock on which are three burning torches," he continued. "That one ahead. We couldn't take a straight path in because we had to avoid certain well-patrolled docks and water lanes."
The ship bumped slightly on its starboard against the edge of a slip and then bumped harder against the end. A face appeared in the window of a shack. A moment later three robed and hooded figures came out. One quickly doused the torches in the water. Another said, "What word, strangers?"
Ruseth said, "That Word spoken in the Beginning…"
"By great Kho Herself," the priestess answered. "Come into the shack."
They crowded in. The woman closed the wooden shutters, putting them all in darkness. A moment later a spark flew from flint against iron, fell into a basin full of oil, and the oil burned. By its dim, bluely flickering flame, the woman ignited a candle, then three more. She placed a metal cover over the basin, extinguishing the fire, but not before the smoke had set them to coughing.
Her hood was thrown back, revealing the face of a woman in middle-age. "You have papers?"
Ruseth took a roll of papyrus paper from a leather bag slung over his shoulder. She broke the seal and spread it out on a table to read it by the candle's light. Her eyes widened, and she looked up now and then to stare at the newcomers. Finally she took a bronze-tipped bone pen, dipped it into a bottle of ink and wrote a note at the bottom of the last page. She signed it with a flourish, sanded the ink, pressed it, rolled the paper up and affixed a seal to it. She handed it to Ruseth.