"Even before then." Grayar shook his head. "Every now and again, sports are born, for some reason always in the infertile gender. One type of throwback is when the sylph part is stronger –"
"Monstrous sylphs," interrupted Belaika. "I heard of a huge one, covered in feathers all over. I don't know what happened to her."
"Probably killed, or put in a freak show. And probably died young, because so little of the original sylph is left."
"She never learned to talk and there were bony bumps between her shoulders."
Grayar spread his hands. "A throwback."
Belaika sniffed. "If sylphs used to look like that, then I am glad humans changed us," he retorted. "I prefer us the way we are now."
"I didn't say sports are a complete return to what sylphs were." Grayar tilted his head. "No more than the throwback we call a gwerin is fully human. The stock is too tainted for that. But gwerins have one, special, gift and this is why they are so valuable."
Belaika waited patiently.
Used to expectant silences from sylphs, Grayar continued.
"They are able to analyze a problem from all sides and come out with an answer, which is right more often than not. They're only as good as their information, but they are good at filling gaps. Every ruler desires a gwerin advisor, though very few ever acquire one."
"Now enya has one," Belaika pointed out.
Grayar grimaced. "She will be of little use within your master's lifetime," he pointed out. "Salafisa will need training from an older gwerin, too."
"Enya is certain the old palace gwerins will return," remarked Belaika. "Well, at least one of them."
"The more gwerins here, the better for your daughter. Though I must say the Vintners always looked after their advisors." Grayar smiled.
"What would a gwerin advise, enya?"
Grayar pursed his lips. "To hold fast to his beliefs. Zenepha will not remain Emperor, because a human must rule humans."
Belaika nodded, as if he expected to hear nothing different. He glanced up at the sun.
"I must return to my wife," he said, turning to leave.
"I'll walk back to the palace with you," offered Grayar.
Belaika steered the talk away from gwerins. "Where did you find Djerana?"
The human barked a quick laugh. "I didn't find Djerana, she found me. Humans don't find ilven, they introduce themselves if sufficiently interested. I've known her now for, oh, about twenty-five years, when she..."
***
Janin held in a groan. He dared not move as consciousness returned. Marlen's voice washed over him, but moments passed before he understood it again. Something wet and sticky covered him in places and he instinctively knew this must be his blood. Everything ached, but he held still and hoped to learn something if the humans believed he had not woken yet. After all, sylphs were tougher than most people realized. While eavesdropping on the conversation, he tensed individual groups of muscles to see if any were damaged.
He lay face down, but his face, mouth, nose and eyes ached; when he tried to open one eye, he found it curiously resistant and gave up trying. Something had matted his hair at the back and he suspected more blood might be responsible. His head felt like he imagined an anvil would feel, and dimly recalled it had been treated little different from that important tool of the blacksmith's trade.
He held himself as still as possible.
Back and stomach ached; Marlen had punched him several times, while Petan held him. Legs and arms felt almost as bad, but fortunately he didn't think he'd broken anything. It would be hard to escape with a broken limb. And likely be the end of him: sylph bones, though strong and surprisingly flexible, were very light and rarely healed well. A sylph with a broken bone was often soon a dead sylph.
"We must move carefully," said Marlen. "Whoever controls this boy has put such fear into him that we can't get the answers we want."
Oh good, he had not talked. The sylph didn't think Sandev put fear into him more than anyone else, but it would do no harm for the humans to think it. If they believed he feared his employer more than a severe beating from Marka's enemies, then perhaps they might fear this shadowy unknown, also. Moments later, his hopes were dashed.
"Assume the worst," continued Marlen, his voice rumbling ominously. "I'm certain the City Guard are fully aware of our presence and so is Sandev."
"When Hingast arrives," growled Petan, "we'll be forced to move."
"The move will be sooner than you think," replied Marlen.
Janin heard one of the humans move towards the door and open it.
"I must make arrangements now," said Marlen from the door. "I don't think we'll learn anything more from the boy. Kill him."
Petan grunted an affirmative as the door closed.
Janin sat upright, terror coursing from Marlen's last words.
Petan turned to face Janin.
The sylph stared back defiantly.
Petan smiled.
***
Chapter 13
Flying Cloud
The port had been bustling since dawn. Neptarik stared as workers landed the night's catch and watched the still-wriggling fish with interest. His earpoints twitched forward and his mouth watered. Balnus tugged him along to stop him getting separated from the others.
Kelanus set as good a pace as possible along the crowded quayside, dodging workers and crates, handcarts and horses, twisting this way and that. He led their borrowed packhorse, striding confidently, knowing the way to the Flying Cloud. He had described the ship to his companions: a three-masted vessel with an ornate stern, the only great galley in the harbor. Not that any of them knew much about ships.
Pulled away from yet another landed catch, Neptarik turned his attention to the humans and sylphs as they struggled and sweated through the throng. They avoided other equally busy workers with apparent ease, clearly used to the press of people.
His gaze flickered upwards to watch ships' spars, converted to temporary cranes, lift boxes, barrels, crates and livestock from the ships onto the quay, or from the quay to ships about to leave. More used to army maneuvers and scouting, he viewed this display of trade and commerce with curiosity. Some things he saw were confusing.
For example, three grubby sylph infertiles sprawling on fishing nets piled on the foredeck of one of the fishing smacks. They watched the men – human men! – work, while they lounged, faylike in ragged yellow shirts and breeches. One became aware of his stare, pointed him out to her companions and poked her blue tongue at him. All three fell giggling against each other, but the crowd swept Neptarik on before he could react.
"Why are those sylphs not working?" he demanded.
Though aimed at Balnus, Tahena answered. "They are ship sylphs. Looks like they are left alone when their ships are alongside."
"They should still be working." The confused scout glanced back towards the yellow clad sylphs, but there were too many people in the way for even a glimpse. Having seen some, everywhere he looked he now saw sylphs dotted about not working. And all the idlers were infertiles.
A few kept an eye on cargo or crew as things were carried across gangways or slung from the temporary cranes. Some lounged against ship rails, watching the bustling quay with a seen-it-all-before expression, or chatted with officers. Others were curled up asleep in quiet corners, or basked in the sunshine.
Most sylphs worked as hard as any human, which came as no surprise since this was normal behavior. They loaded carts, chatted cheerfully with each other and the human workers, and gave Neptarik and his companions curious looks. Perhaps they wondered what the strangers wanted.
The scout noticed the sylphs here used a slightly different dialect from his own; some words were changed subtly, while others were mangled almost beyond recognition. He wondered why humans did not share this variety of speech.
His attention returned to the ship sylphs. "What are they for?" he wondered aloud.
Kelanus looked over his shoulder and smiled at the sylph. "We
'll find out soon enough what a ship's sylph is for. You may not believe in it and you may find it ridiculous, but take care not to mock others' beliefs. Especially when relying on their goodwill."
Neptarik looked at his owner who shrugged. "I'm just a simple soldier," said Balnus. "Ships and the sea mean nothing to me."
They came to an empty part of the quay. Men guarded neatly stacked cargo, ready to be put aboard a ship, but this part of the quay had nothing tied to it. Just a gap of perhaps three hundred pacas.
"The Portmaster said the Flying Cloud would be here." Kelanus could barely keep frustration from his voice, lashing the packhorse's rope up and down. At the other end, the animal gave the human a patient stare.
Hearing the ship's name mentioned, one of the men crossed the quay to join them. "The ship thought she was taking on water, so they've gone to make sure she's not."
The ship thought? Neptarik mouthed to Balnus. The ship?
Balnus shrugged.
The man pointed towards the sea. "She's on her way back now."
Neptarik stared across the harbor and his eyes widened. The large vessel just taking in sail would fill the gap alongside the quay. Three banks of oars flashed in the strengthening sunlight. As Kelanus had said, this must be the biggest ship here. Stunned, Neptarik stared.
The ship came closer and closer, and the sylph craned his neck to look up towards the deck. That deck would stand high above the quayside once the ship actually came alongside. But how could it, with oars stuck out of both sides?
He soon found out. As one, the starboard oars pushed against the water, while those on the port side continued to pull, turning the ship port side to the quay, perhaps a ship's length away. The port oars now lifted and disappeared as the ship moved sideways towards the quay. This must be something to do with the starboard oars, though Neptarik could not see what. They must be using a different method of rowing. The ship crept closer to the quay.
"Heads!"
Startled, Neptarik and his companions jerked away as thin lines were thrown to the men on the quayside. With practiced ease, the lines were hauled across, mooring ropes attached. Then it seemed the humans suddenly switched languages, with their talk of springs and breast ropes, head rope and stern rope.
Neptarik and his owner exchanged another mystified look.
"This one's ours," said Kelanus.
Tahena nodded her head. "Yes," she whispered to herself. "This one will do us very well."
The ship shone, her owners obviously wealthy enough to care for her properly. Spars and ropes gleamed in the early sunshine and the paintwork looked as if it had been fresh only days before. Dockworkers pushed a wooden tower – resembling a short siege engine – towards the ship and they saw ladders leading up inside the tower to the gangway. Having seen the ship secured, the would-be passengers turned back to the men on the quay.
A man in a blue jacket and a boy climbed down the tower. "Run to the Portmaster," the man said, "and tell him we need forty fresh barrels of water. And make sure it's the cooper who made the barrels and not his useless apprentice."
The boy nodded and ran along the quay. Kelanus stepped up to the man as he reached the quay.
"I'm looking for Captain Liffen Trallon," he said. "We have passage to the southernmost point of your journey."
The other men standing around took no notice, but the man in the blue jacket nodded. "The Captain is aboard," he replied. "Repp told us to expect you. I'm First Mate Sedaro and part owner of the Flying Cloud. Is the animal to be returned to the Portmaster?"
Kelanus nodded. "Those are all our boxes."
"Good to see you're traveling light." Sedaro nodded to the crewmen. "Make sure those go aboard with the first batch of cargo. Caylan, will you take that animal back to the Portmaster please? Follow the lads, they'll show you to your stateroom." He grimaced. "Cloudy's still poking about in the bilges, or she'd show you the way."
"What was that about a leak?" asked Tahena.
Sedaro grimaced. "The ship convinced herself she was taking on water, but we found nothing wrong with the planks. Halfway round the harbor, Cloudy realized the water in the bilge was fresh, not salt. A batch of bad barrels from the cooper; he should take a strap to that shirker pretending to be his apprentice."
Neptarik exchanged a look with Balnus before he clambered up the short tower that led to the gangplank. Ignoring the lack of handrails, he crossed to the ship and his mouth fell open.
He had crossed onto the rowing platform and a few steps led down onto the ship's deck. Crewmen were busy everywhere: restowing cargo, battening down one hold's hatches and opening another, coiling ropes, preparing the main yard for use as a crane, cleaning up spills and breakages. Activity everywhere he looked. The passengers were led aft, and down two ladders. As they were ushered into their stateroom, one of the crewmen knocked on the door beside theirs.
"Captain, sir," said the crewman, "our guests are here, but Cloudy's still busy."
Neptarik ran across the stateroom and pressed his nose against the glass at the extreme end of the ship. He saw the walkway outside, but stared instead at the water, while he hummed some nameless tune.
"At least it's clean," remarked Balnus, looking around at the six cots and the easy chairs screwed into the deck. "I've heard some ships are filthy."
Kelanus nodded, but he turned as the door opened again and a smile split his face. "Good morning, Captain."
Captain Liffen returned the smile and turned it on each of them as they were introduced. He bowed to Tahena while holding her hand and made a fuss over Neptarik, complimenting Balnus on having such a fine sylph. Introductions over, he turned to Kelanus. "You're a little earlier than expected. We don't sail until tomorrow morning, so feel free to come and go as you please. By all means explore the ship. I trust the quarters are sufficient?"
"Much better than expected," replied Kelanus. "The Portmaster made an excellent recommendation."
"Cloudy will be disappointed she was not here to greet you personally," continued Liffen, a hint of regret in his voice. "She's still rummaging through the bilges; when the ship gets an idea, she tends not to let go easily."
Neptarik began to wonder if all sailors were a little mad.
"The leak that never was?" asked Tahena, with a grin.
Liffen frowned. "We had a leak all right, just not the sort sailors dread." He abruptly changed the subject. "I trust you and your companions will dine with me and my officers tonight. Is it your custom for sylphs to dine with you? No?" He turned to Neptarik. "Perhaps you would prefer to eat with Cloudy. It is rare for her to have sylph company when at sea. Later then." Turning on his heel, he left the stateroom and returned to his duties.
"He talks of this Cloudy as if she's some sort of god," grumbled Neptarik. "And what is she? An infertile."
Tahena laughed. "I think Neptarik's jealous another sylph is the center of attention. She's the ship's sylph. You'll find out everything about her when you dine with her."
Neptarik nodded.
After their boxes had been brought down, Kelanus left them, wearing a secretive smile. He acknowledged Tahena's hissed reminder that Sallis ti Ath could not be very far away with a brief nod.
"I wouldn't be at all surprised if he passes through the city gates this morning," she warned.
The General smiled and nodded again. "The Captain said we can go where we wish today. Ti Ath or no ti Ath, this ship's going nowhere until tomorrow. Don't save anything for me at midday." With that, he was gone.
"He's up to something," muttered Tahena, unhappily. "But what?"
They spent most of the morning unpacking their boxes and claiming a cot. Although Neptarik said he was happy to sleep on the deck, he moved as fast as the others to claim a proper bed. From his new vantage, the sylph enjoyed the view from the stern windows. A timid knock on the door heralded two shy human boys, each with a platter heaped with fruits and vegetables.
Balnus thanked them for the food.
After eating
, the humans wanted to go ashore, while Neptarik wanted to explore the ship. They agreed to part, Balnus warning his sylph not to get in anyone's way.
"Remember," he cautioned, "you know nothing about ships."
Neptarik inclined his head and left, without even a hint of a se bata. He trotted up the two ladders and emerged to daylight and strong sunshine. He blinked while his pupils narrowed to vertical slits.
The nearest crewman polished the ship's wheel. He had never seen one of these things before and stared at it, wondering how it worked. Turning away, he wandered slowly along the deck, ignoring the stern castle and the rowing platforms towering above him.
He glanced over coamings to see every cargo hatch secure, ready for sea. With little to see here, he walked forward and leaned on the stempost before realizing he could scramble over the bulwark. The area between the bowsprit and the heads of the ship was planked in, giving a strange sort of platform, with holes cut into it on both sides. He had failed to notice it because the yard for the foresail lay in the way, the sail neatly wrapped underneath, ropes securing the canvas. He leaned on the bulwark and watched the busy port below.
The quays still heaved with stevedores and slaves, sailors and women, all moving cargoes or bartering goods and services. Knots of sylphs were with them, but Neptarik noted more idle infertile sylphs, mostly on the other vessels. Two fishing boats were moored ahead of the Flying Cloud and each had its own sylph curled up asleep on nets. Their presence still puzzled him.
He turned to stare out to sea, wondering how he would cope with it. They would lose sight of land altogether; he found this both hard to believe and unsettling. Open spaces didn't bother him – sylphs worried by those were quickly weeded out of scout training – but he had never been out of sight of land before.
He became aware he was no longer alone.
Neptarik turned and came face to face with an infertile sylph, a hint of mischief glinting in her silvery gray eyes. Her earpoints slanted forwards and twitched in interested curiosity. Barefoot, a cream shirt flapped loose of her pale blue breeches, which ended just above her knee. She wore no decoration except a silver collar. She grinned at him, a curious smile that lifted one corner of her mouth slightly higher than the other.
"You must be Neptarik-y-Balnus. I am Melnea, but only the Sailing Master calls me that and then only when I am in trouble. Most call me Cloudy, after the ship. We have passengers from time to time, but you are the first sylph passenger I have seen on my decks for some time."