Part 5 (1/2)

But oh, Ahlitah mused, what a meal this visitor would make!

Standing alone before the visitant, aware that those watching viewed it from perspectives as wildly different from one another as from his, Ehomba considered how best to proceed. The type of talking itself was no stranger to him. He had known it since childhood, albeit with a considerably lesser degree of eloquence. He simply did not want to get off on the wrong foot. Offend this n.o.ble creature and it would doubtless plunge itself right back into the depths it had risen from. It was not for nothing that its kind were called crabs.

Raising both hands, he began to wiggle several of his fingers in a certain manner. Though when it came to sheer number of limbs his counterpart had him outgunned, not all could be used simultaneously for conversation. Out of the water, at least, several had to be used at all times to support the weighty body.

”Well would you look at that!” Not for the first time Simna was all but struck dumb by an unexpected talent of his lanky companion. This time there was no question that sorcery was not involved. It was, as Ehomba had tried to explain, simply a different kind of speaking. One that made use of hand signs, or in the case of the crab king, foot signs, to express notions, emotions, and ideas.

After several minutes the giant crustacean and the tall human were practically shouting, so rapid and intense had the movements of their respective limbs become. It was certain that much was being said, but what, not a man jack among the crew had a clue. Neither did Simna ibn Sind, or the black litah, and certainly not the utterly engrossed Hunkapa Aub, who had to pause to ponder the meaning of any sentence longer than ten words.

Eventually the frenetic exchange of signs slowed. Bending low, Ehomba extended a hand. It was met by a th.o.r.n.y claw. They did not shake, exactly. The crustacean's armature would not properly allow it. But there was a definite physical meeting, following which those remarkable legs proceeded to carry their owner once more up over the railing and down the side of the s.h.i.+p. Rus.h.i.+ng to the rail, those members of the crew who had remained on deck watched as the spiny, starlike shape sank once more beneath the wavelets, swallowed up entire by water the color of blue-black ink.

Direct as always, Stanager was first to question Ehomba. ”Are we to make anything of that? Or was it no more than an unlikely dialogue?”

Turning to her, the herdsman smiled. ”They are going to try to help us. Not because it is in their nature to do so, or because it would ever happen under ordinary circ.u.mstances-but because the sarga.s.sum man asked it of them. As fellow creatures of the sea, it seems they have a compact of sorts that is very old, and inviolate. The king was reluctant, but as soon as he saw that I was able to speak with him, his last uncertainties disappeared.”

”I'm glad they're going to try to help us,” Simna put in. ”If not, I'd hate to think we let such a superb meal just walk away.”

Ehomba glanced over at his friend. ”Odd you should say that, Simna. The king was thinking the same about you. About all of us. His people are quite fond of the taste of man, having dined on numerous occasions on the bodies of sailors drowned at sea. At the bottom of the ocean, it seems, nothing goes to waste.”

The swordsman envisioned himself sinking, slowly sinking to the soft sands below, his face turned blue, his eyes bulging in a manner not unlike the crab's. Saw himself settling to the bottom, to be visited not long thereafter by first one small crab, and then another, and another, until dozens of tiny but sharply efficient claws were ripping at his saturated flesh, tearing off bits of meat to be stuffed into alien, insectlike jaws, there to be ground into ...

”Like I said.” Simna swallowed uncomfortably. ”I'm glad they're going to try to help us.” He blinked.

”Hoy, wait a moment. Who are 'they'?”

”The king and his minions, of course. Apparently he commands a substantial empire, even if all of it is hidden well beneath the waves.”

”I don't understand.” Stanager's expression showed clearly how much she disliked not understanding.

”How can they help us to leave this valley?”

”The king did not say.” Ehomba looked past her, to the east. ”He told me that we should wait here until morning, and then we would all see if the thing was possible.”

Her tone was sarcastic. ”That we can certainly do! It's not as if we had plans to be anywhere else.”

Nodding past Terious, she indicated the hopeful, attentive crew. ”Set the watch, Mr. Kamarkh. All crew to be sounded to quarters if anything, um, unusual should start to happen.” Raising her voice, she addressed the others herself. ”All of you, hear me! Get some sleep. With luck”-and she glanced at the studiously noncommittal Ehomba-”tomorrow will find us freed of this place.

”Though how,” she murmured as she turned and strode past the herdsman, ”I cannot begin to imagine.”

V.

It was not a perfect morning, but it would do. As was his wont, Ehomba rose with the sun. Normally one to sleep in, even aboard s.h.i.+p, Simna ibn Sind bestirred himself as soon as he sensed his rangy companion was awake. Whatever was going to happen, he was not about to miss it. And if nothing happened, as he half suspected it might, why then he would have a fine excuse for returning early to bed.

Hunkapa Aub was already awake, it being hard for him to sleep long in the cramped s.p.a.ce he had been provided in the hold. There was no sign of Ahlitah, there being little that could rouse the big cat from its rest. Hands working against one another behind her back, Stanager Rose nervously paced the helm deck as she stared out to sea. She manifested more anxiety than she intended when Ehomba finally showed himself.

”Anything?” Shading his eyes against the sharpness of the early morning sun, the herdsman scanned the surrounding waters.

”Nothing. Nothing at all, unless you call the presence of a hundred or so flying fish significant. I hope your crab was not keeping you hand-talking so long merely because he valued the opportunity for conversation.”

”I do not think so. And he is not my crab, nor the sarga.s.sum man's. Whatever happens, he was most definitely his own crab.”

A cry came from the lookout. It was indistinct, perhaps because the man was choked with surprise. But his extended arm, if not his foreshortened words, pointed the way.

Rising from the calm surface of the sea beneath the bowsprit was a line of crabs. All manner of crabs.

Every type and kind and variety of crab the sailors of theGromsketter had ever seen, as well as a goodly number that were new to them. Ehomba recognized some they did not, and there were many that he had never seen before. There were blue crabs and stone crabs, snow crabs and lady crabs, rock crabs and green crabs. There were tiny sand crabs and fiddler crabs, each sporting a single grotesquely oversized dueling claw. Pea crabs vied for s.p.a.ce in the line with hermit crabs, while pelagic crabs shared the water with benthic crabs that were utterly devoid of color and nearly so of eyesight. There were king crabs, too, but of them all were subjects and none visibly a king.

The line they formed was a good two feet wide and stretched across the surface as far as one could see.

Stretched all the way across the valley and up the nearest aqueous slope, in fact. Claws linked tightly to claws while spiny legs entwined, the chitonous queue continuing to thicken and grow even as those aboard the trapped vessel gathered to gaze at the astonis.h.i.+ng sight.

”Millions.” Much as he liked the taste of crab, Simna found he was not hungry. He remembered all too clearly what Ehomba had told him the night before about the crustaceans' traditional taste for the flesh of drowned men. ”There must be millions of them!”

”Tens of millions,” the herdsman agreed. Beneath the bowsprit the clacking of claws and sc.r.a.pe of sh.e.l.l on sh.e.l.l was almost deafening.

”How does this help us?” In her years at sea Stanager Rose had seen many strange things, but nothing to quite match the crustaceal armada presently a.s.sembling beneath the bow of her s.h.i.+p. ”What do we do?”

”I know!” Never one to hesitate at venturing expertise in matters where he had none, Simna spoke up enthusiastically. ”Etjole's going to magick them so that they carry us on their backs. As soon as enough have congregated, hoy?”

Ehomba eyed his friend dolefully. ”There is no magic in this, Simna.” Looking past him, he smiled encouragingly at Stanager. ”When a hundred million crabs present themselves at the ready, Captain, I think it might be advisable to throw them a line.”

”Throw them a ... ?” For the barest of instants she gazed back uncomprehendingly. Then she turned and barked orders to Terious and the rest of the waiting crew.

The strongest cord on board was made fast around a fore capstan. When the mate was convinced it could be knotted no better, the unsecured end was heaved over the bow. It landed with a convincing splash just to the right of the line of floating crabs.

Immediately, those forming the end of the line nearest the s.h.i.+p swarmed over the rope. At any other time and in any other place they might well have tried to eat it, but not this morning. Sharp claws dug deep into the thick hemp, legs burying themselves into the folds of the triple weave.

”Line going out!” one of the crew monitoring the capstan shouted.

Stanager glanced briefly at Ehomba. He did not react to the warning and continued to lean over the bow watching the frenzied crustaceans. ”Let it go,” she directed the crew tersely.

The capstan whirred as more and more of the valuable cordage was taken up by the crabs, until at last only the terminal coils securing it to the capstan itself remained. Stretched out beneath the bowsprit, the rest of the line was completely obscured by swarming crabs. As those who managed to crowd into the bow observed, the thick cable was being drawn taut, and tauter still, until the visible portion that was suspended in the air between water and bowsprit tw.a.n.ged from the tension that was being applied to it.

Very slowly but perceptibly, theGromsketter began to move.

”All hands to stations!” Stanager bellowed. Behind her, men and women swarmed into the rigging or to posts on deck. Priget stood like a barrel behind the helm, her eyes aloft as she searched for the first hint of a good stiff breeze.

When the s.h.i.+p reached the base of the oceanic slope there was a collective intake of breath among her crew. Exhaling in concert and producing a noise like a billion tiny bubbles all bursting at once, the line of crabs continued to pull the s.h.i.+p forward. That and the sc.r.a.pe of millions of carapaces rubbing against one another were the only sounds they made.

The elegant sailing vessel's prow rose slowly, slowly. Sailors reached for something to keep themselves from falling backward as the s.h.i.+p began to slideup the slope toward the smooth ridge above. At the halfway point someone erupted in an involuntary cheer, only to be quickly hushed by his superst.i.tious fellow seamen. Who knew what might disturb the crabs at their arduous work? If the line broke, if a few hundred thousand claws and legs lost their grasp, then the s.h.i.+p would surely slide right back down into the peaceful but terminal watery valley-perhaps forever.

The rim drew near, nearer-and then it was beneath theGromsketter 's bowsprit. Very gradually the s.h.i.+p ceased ascending and she leveled out. When the stern was once more on an even keel with the bow, several of the most senior mariners could no longer restrain themselves. They began to dance and twirl around one another out of sheer joy. Priget turned the great wheel, adjusting the s.h.i.+p's heading slightly.

Wind began to billow her sails. Not strongly, but it was enough. And it was behind them. Picking up speed, the s.h.i.+p began to move away from the valley under her own power.

In front of it, the crabs were scattering, abandoning the line and sinking back down into the depths from which they had been commanded. Seeing this, Stanager ordered the heavy line winched in swiftly lest it back up and wrap around the bow, fouling their advance. She would have thanked the hardworking crustaceans who had joined together to drag them clear of the valley, but how did one thank a crab? She put the question to the most unfathomable of her unique quartet of pa.s.sengers.

”Do not thank them yet.” While, with the exception of the dozing cat, his companions celebrated along with the crew, the herdsman did not. He remained where he had been standing, hard by the bowsprit and staring at the water forward of the s.h.i.+p. ”The crabs helped us because their king commanded them to do so. But I do not think they were alone. I do not see how they could have done such a thing by themselves.”