Catechist - A Triumph Of Souls Part 3

"This was the only refuge I saw," he replied apologetically.

"I'm not complaining, mind." As theGromsketter rocked contentedly in the mild swells, she turned and shouted commands. "Terious! Tell Uppin the carpenter to pick a crew to help him and have him get started on the necessary repairs. Once they've begun, see to the sails and rigging. Choose two men to settle the mess belowdecks!"

"Ayesh, Captain!" Turning, the first mate commenced to issue orders of his own.

Scrutinizing the enclosing green slopes, Stanager remained uneasy. "This valley we've slipped into; will it stay stable? If these walls decide to collapse in upon us, we'll become instant chum."

"When the old people of my village who have the most experience with the sea mention such a place, they speak of it as something that lingers long. I think we will be all right here. How long will it take your people to make the ship right again?"

She deliberated. "The damage is not crippling, but if left unattended to, it would surely have become so.

We've a full day's work ahead of us, more likely two."

"Good!" Simna, for one, was not disappointed. Leaning on the rail, he surveyed their implausible surroundings. "I could do with a couple days of knowing where my legs are going to be at all times. Not to mention my belly." He glanced hopefully at the herdsman. "If this phenomenon is as steadfast as you say, bruther, maybe we could lower one of the small boats and do some fishing."

"I do not see why you could not," Ehomba replied encouragingly.

"Why not fish from theGromsketter ?" Stanager frowned at him.

"My tackle won't reach the water."

"Tackle?" Her puzzlement deepened in tandem with her frown. "I didn't notice any fishing gear among your baggage."

He winked at her. "You were looking at the wrong baggage." Turning, he yelled down in the direction of the mainmast, where a large black, furry ma.s.s lay half asleep, purring sonorously. "Hoy, kitty! Feel like some fresh fish?"

The litah yawned majestically. "I told you not to call me that. But I always feel like fresh fish."

"Then I'll be right down." Pa.s.sing the Captain, the swordsman arched his eyebrows at her. "That's my tackle."

The sounds of hammering and sawing rose from the main deck where Uppin the carpenter and his commandeered a.s.sistants were already hard at work making preparations to carry out the necessary repairs to the ship. Something rose up behind Ehomba and the Captain, shading them from the intermittent sun.

"Hunkapa go fish too?"

"Not this time, my friend." Ehomba smiled sympathetically. "A little enthusiasm on your part goes a long way. I can see you catching a fish and in the excitement of the moment, drenching Simna and Ahlitah all over again." He indicated the bustle of fresh activity that filled the main deck. "Why not see if you can help the crew with their work? I am sure they could use an extra pair of strong hands."

More than human teeth flashed amidst the gray hair. "Good idea, friend Etjole. Hunkapa strong!

Hunkapa go and help."

Stanager watched him descend to the main deck in a single, booming hop that disdained use of the stairs. "Sometime you must tell me how you came to gain the allegiance of two such remarkable creatures."

Ehomba grinned. "Simna would be upset that you left him out."

She snorted derisively. "In my time I've had to deal with all too many puffed-up, self-important vagabonds and mercenaries like him. He aspires to far more than he can ever hope to attain."

"Do not underestimate him. He swaggers like a farmyard c.o.c.k, but he is brave, courageous, and, to a certain degree I have yet to measure accurately, true."

"I know what he is," she retorted sharply. "The question is, what are you, Etjole Ehomba?" One toughened yet surprisingly soft shoulder pushed, perhaps accidentally, perhaps not, against his side.

"What I am, Captain, is a humble herder of cattle and sheep. One with a loving wife and two fine children, whom I do not fail to miss every day of this seemingly eternal journey."

Eyes green as the sea and nearly as deep peered up at him. "Every day?" she inquired meaningfully.

When he nodded slowly, she sighed and turned her gaze back to the panorama of sweeping liquid slopes and calm surface. "Ordinarily I have no time for landsmen, not even one who knows as much of the sea as yourself. Terious now; ayesh, there's a man!"

"A fine fellow," Ehomba agreed, perhaps a shade too quickly.

She noticed, and cut her eyes at him. "Do I make you nervous, herdsman?"

He composed his reply carefully, but sincerely. "Captain, until recently I would not have thought it possible for a flower to survive with only seawater to nurture it. Yet it not only survives, but blooms as brightly as any land-based blossom."

She smiled. "That's the difference between you and your friend." She indicated the longboat from which a chortling Simna ibn Sind and lightning-fast Ahlitah were hauling in all manner of edible fish. "I've always preferred the artful to the impertinent." Pushing back from the railing, she faced him squarely. "I have to go and supervise the repair work. I've known many men who, at the drop of a sailmaker's needle, will extol the surpa.s.sing virtues of their home port until a listener's ears grow numb. When those same men find themselves far from home in strange and stormy waters, they are grateful when a calm and inviting harbor makes itself known."

He smiled. "Though no mariner, I consider myself an experienced navigator in such matters."

"Then you should know that when in uncharted seas and hoping for a good night's rest it's the smart sailor who seeks a tight berth instead of a loose mooring." With that she brushed past him and descended to the main deck.

Simna's excited whooping and hollering as Ahlitah pulled in one fish after another with great, swift sweeps of his paws drew Ehomba's attention back to the water off the port side. Overhead, the liberated winds were finally starting to dissipate, borne aloft on their own wild energy as they dispersed to the four corners of the world. With its calm green slopes, mild temperature, and gentle breezes, the valley was a wonderfully tranquil s.p.a.ce. A man could make a life in such a place, he mused, save for the fact that he would immediately begin to sink and drown. It belonged to the fishes, and to the seaweed that rode its small waves in broad, thick mats, and to the seabirds that from time to time descended raucously to hunt for fry and fingerlings among the lazily drifting greenery.

It reminded him of the beaches below the village, of a home that was distant in s.p.a.ce and becoming increasingly distant in time. Glancing to his left as he leaned on the rail, he saw the shape of Stanager Rose stalking back and forth among her crew, barking orders and encouragement. Dangerously distant, he thought as he resolutely returned his attention to his two mismatched companions and their exuberant efforts to mine the piscine realm of its subsurface riches.

True to her estimate, the last repairs to theGromsketter were completed by late afternoon of the following day. Fatigued but elated, Stanager emerged from her cabin and the luxury of a Captain's private sun-heated shower to join her pa.s.sengers on the helm deck. Below as well as aloft, the reinvigorated crew was making final preparations for departure, as much rejuvenated by the respite from sailing and rough weather as was their ship.

Stanager refused to let the concern that had nagged at her ever since their arrival in the sanctuary dilute her high spirits. "All is in readiness," she told her guests. "We can leave now or on the morrow and resume our course westward. I have ciphered our position. Though we were blown far north into waters I do not know, the necessary adjustments are straightforward enough. We will sail a little more to the south, and still arrive at the trading port of Doroune less than a week later than originally planned. We carry more than enough stores to sustain us through the delay." She contemplated the placid waters.

"There is only one element I cannot account for, and that my experience is not equal to." Raising a hand, she gestured over the railing. It did not matter in which direction she pointed, because their surroundings were identical on all sides. And therefore, so was the problem.

"I have sailed through straits so narrow they would pinch a coal lugger's gut, navigated my way past shelves of coral and rocks so black they could hardly be seen by the lookout. I have taken the Gromsketter safely past whirlpools strong enough to suck a lesser vessel down to its doom, and seen to a fire in the galley in the middle of the night. But I have never, ever, had occasion to try to sail uphill." She was watching Ehomba closely.

"This astonishing liquid vale has been a welcome refuge. Now, how do we escape it?"

Ehomba returned her gaze. Nearby, Simna ibn Sind leaned back against the rail and grinned. It always amused him when his tall friend startled the skeptical with one of his unexpected magical revelations. He looked forward with great antic.i.p.ation to the look of amazement and realization that was soon to come over the Captain's beautiful face.

"I do not know," the herdsman replied frankly.

"What?" Stanager's expression hardly shifted.

Simna's grin widened. "Hoy, he's just toying and teasing with you." He smiled at his companion. "The stiffer they are, the harder it is for them to loosen up and have a laugh. Right, long bruther?"

Ehomba turned to him. "I am telling the truth, Simna. I do not know how we are going to get free of this place and back out onto the upper ocean proper."

"Right, sure!" The swordsman smiled at their hostess. "Would you believe that there was a time when I thought he had no sense of humor? Tell her, Etjole. Tell her now."

"I just did," the herdsman responded quietly. He considered the watery late-afternoon panorama. "I have no idea how one is supposed to sail uphill."

His expression falling, Simna straightened away from the railing. "This isn't funny, bruther."

Ehomba glanced over at him. "Why should it be? As you have said yourself, I have no sense of humor."

Stanager moved nearer. "If you had no notion of how to leave a place like this, why did you guide us into it?"

"Because you insisted you needed a place to rest and repair, and this was the only such shelter I could detect. Attend to the ship first, I thought, and deal with the leaving later."

"Well, the later has arrived, bruther." Simna was no longer smiling. "Time to deal with it."

"I am trying, my friend." He looked hopefully at their Captain. "Have you any ideas?"

Placing her hands on the rail, she regarded the valley in the sea. Soon it would start to grow dark again.

"Terious and his people are stout of arm and strong of back, but I don't think even they could kedge uphill." She spared a quick glance for the sails. "We have some wind, but not enough to gain sufficient momentum to push us up one of these enclosing slopes. We might sail partway before sliding back. This is a magical place. Your friend claims you are a magician." Her gaze was steely. "Make some magic, Etjole, or we will surely all grow old together in this place."

"My friend is constantly overrating my abilities. It is a conceit of his."

"There must be a way out!" Simna was, however mildly and gracefully, feeling the gnawing edge of panic. "You speak to dolphins; I've seen you do it. Call them up and make a bargain with them! Have them pull and push us back to the surface above."

"I can speak to the sleek people of the sea, yes," Ehomba admitted, "but I cannot call them up, Simna.

And believe me, I have been looking for them. But from where we are now I see neither spout nor fin."

"Then talk to the fishes! I know there are many here, and of diverse kinds. Strike a compact with them."

The herdsman flashed a look of regretful sadness. "Would that I could, my friend. But fish are of a lower order than dolphins, and can speak but few words." Peering out across the sea, he tried to see hope where there was only seaweed and water.

"The sky-metal sword! Call forth a wind strong enough to fill every sail and blow us out of here."

"Now Simna, remember what I have told you. Care must be taken in the use of that blade. If it is used too often and too many times in the same period, the consequences of its employment become dangerously unpredictable. Perhaps in a few weeks it might be safe to try again."

"A few weeks!" Whirling, the swordsman stalked off in search of a sympathetic ear to bend with his complaints. Knowing that the cat would not tolerate his ranting, he settled instead on poor Hunkapa Aub, who would sit and smile patiently through any tirade, no matter how lengthy or pointless.

"What are we going to do?" Stanager had moved to stand close to the herdsman-though not so close as before.

"As I said, I do not know." Ehomba brooded on the matter. "The answer is here. There is always an answer, or there could not be a problem. But I confess I do not see it. Not yet."

She put a hand on his shoulder. A rea.s.suring hand, devoid of secondary meaning. "Look hard then, herdsman. I will look elsewhere, and between us it can be hoped that a solution will be discovered."

Turning, she headed toward the main deck.

Left to himself, Ehomba contemplated fish and weed, sea and sky. Somehow theGromsketter had to be pushed or pulled out of the valley and back onto the surface of the ocean proper. If it could not be done by wind or muscle power, then some other way must be found. His eyes fell to where the water lapped gently against the st.u.r.dy side of the ship.

If only Simna was right and I could talk to fish,he thought. But those fish he could speak with had little to say, fish not being noted even at their most amenable as being among the most voluble of conversationalists. Yet again it struck him forcefully what a wonderful place the valley would be to live, if only there was a little bit of land.

Of course, in the absence of land there were other things with which the appropriately equipped might endeavor to make a living. There was an abundance of fish, and calm conditions, and seaweeds in abundance.

A fragment of an old tale of Meruba's popped into his head. He struggled to remember the details, to envision all of it, but it hovered frustratingly just out of reach, skipping and skittering away from his most strenuous efforts at recall.

He went to bed with it nagging at him, and the ship still trapped within the haven that had become a prison.

"Put a boat over the side."

The morning had dawned a duplicate of the previous mornings in the valley: calm, sunny, the water stirred by only the gentlest of breezes. Anxiety was now scribed plain on the faces of the crew, for, having completed even unnecessary repairs, they had begun to wonder why they continued to remain in the watery depression, and at the lack of explanation from their Captain and mates.

"Going fishing?" Hovering near the stern rail, Simna ibn Sind eyed his friend glumly.

"In a manner of speaking." The herdsman turned back to Stanager. "What I intend will demand my full attention."

"I'll send Terious to row you. Unless you plan to go far."

"I hope not. You are not coming?"

She gestured behind her. "TheGromsketter is my charge. A Captain does not leave her ship in the middle of the ocean unless it is at the invitation of another vessel to visit. But I will watch."

He nodded. "Let us not waste time, then. When the sun rises to the midpoint of the sky, it will be too hot."

"I know. What are you looking for, Etjole?"

"I am not sure. A part of an old wives' tale."

"That's not very encouraging."

He smiled hopefully. "The old wives of the Naumkib are not like any others."

As soon as the boat had been safely lowered, Ehomba followed the first mate aboard. Settling himself in the bow, he instructed the complaisant Terious to row for the thickest, densest mat of seaweed he could find.

"We won't make much progress through that," the mate warned his pa.s.senger as he pulled hard and steady on the oars. The boat moved away from theGromsketter, out into the open water of the valley.

"And not for very long, either. As soon as we're in among the weed it will be like trying to row through mud."

"Then we will back out and try another place." Ehomba stood in the bow, one foot on the small foreseat, his right arm hanging at his side and the left resting on his knee.

True to the first mate's word, they soon found themselves surrounded by thick green water plants, the little boat struggling to make any additional headway despite Terious's most strenuous efforts.

"This is the best I can do," the mate declared.

"Row us back out, then." Ehomba's sharp, experienced eyes scanned the ma.s.s of weed and saw nothing. It stank of salt and the open ocean. "We will try another patch."

They did not have to. A dark, slick shape was rising before them. Decorated with leafy structures that perfectly mimicked the surrounding seaweed, trailing streamers of glossy green the exact same size and shape as kelp roots, it regarded them out of black, pupil-less eyes that were gently bulging ovals l.u.s.trous as black star sapphires. The small slit of a mouth was a tiny oval set over where one would expect to find a chin, except there was none; the rest of the face was smooth and shiny as the seaweed it counterfeited.

Gills on both sides of the neck revealed themselves only when they rippled to expose momentarily the pink beneath.

"Kalinda uelle Mak!"Terious exclaimed as he briefly lost his grip on the oars. "What in the name of all the ten seas is that!"

"A missing piece of memory," Ehomba told him, not flinching away from the aqueous apparition. "Part of a tale told since childhood to the young people of my village by those of the Naumkib who have been to sea." Manipulating his expression in what he hoped was the appropriate manner, he made a round circle of his mouth and blew softly. "It is a sarga.s.sum man."

IV.