Part 6 (1/2)
Structural metals and plastics were required. The Tran knew nothing of plastics, and would never have considered wasting precious metal on construction, save for an occasional bolt or nail.
In fact, the only metal of consequence in any Arsudun building and possibly on all of Tran-ky-ky- except within the humanx station-was the double, solid bra.s.s door which now formed the entrance to the Landgrave's castle built back of the town. When the sun was right, one could see reflection down in the harbor.
It had been an inspired gift on Trell's part. The modest cost had been more than repaid in less tangible but far more valuable ways by the grateful Landgrave of Arsudun, Callonnin RoVijar. Ways that ought to be preserved.
Trell turned to the Tran standing next to him. ”I understand, friend RoVijar, that some of my people, the newcomers who arrived on the great ice s.h.i.+p, were involved in a very nasty fight in a city tavern.”
He indicated the harbor, where the towering masts of the _Slanderscree_ rose above all other.
”I heard similar reports.” The Landgrave of Arsudun performed the Trannish equivalent of a help-less shrug. ”Outsiders are not popular here. Does this news disturb you?”
”It does disturb me,” replied Trell. ”It disturbs me, my friend, because it took place here, where news of it could reach other humans, including members of my own staff. If harm befell any humans so close to the outpost, it could create trouble. I could be discredited among my superiors. That could lead to disagreeable meddling by my government in the salubrious com-mercial covenants we have concluded here.”
”That is to be avoided.” RoVijar kicked at the light snow. Sharp chiv sent bright flakes flying. ”It is rumored that these newcomers talk of organizing a large number of independent states to apply for higher status within your government, your Commonwealth.”
”So it's rumored.” Trell smiled behind the face mask. Of course, it was he who had informed RoVijar of the strangers' plans, but both men enjoyed their subtle wordplay. It was a good habit, just in case anyone else happened to overhear.
”If they were to succeed in such an endeavor,” the Landgrave continued, ”would it not mean that any from the outlying regions could come and trade freely with many different representatives of your own island states?”
”Merchant families,” Trell corrected him, ”not island states. But the effect would be the same.
Person-ally, I don't feel that's necessary. The present commer-cial arrangements are satisfactory to all concerned. Unless you think someone other than myself can super-vise our trade better.”
”I too, find the existing understandings agreeable.”
They fell silent then, each absorbed in furious think-ing while ostensibly concentrating on the construction which continued below them. Noisy crews raised the first new wall, bracing the unfamiliar pre-stressed plastic against the wind. Once it was molded in place, the work could proceed rapidly behind the windbreak it would provide.
”What then is to be done, friend Trell? Can you yourself do nothing?”
”I'm afraid not, my friend. I can conceal credits and crates and alter listings and manifests. Three citizen corpses would be dangerous to try and make disappear. Yet we must do something- and not clumsily visible, this time.
”These three humans are strangers to Arsudun, but not to your world, Landgrave. They have lived among the Tran for many months. They are intelli-gent. Their grasp of your language and nuances is firmer than that of my own specialists. While I am informed that a union such as they contemplate is ex-tremely unlikely, they should not be given the oppor-tunity to prove my xenologists wrong. They should be discouraged.”
”Discouraged,” echoed the Landgrave, mimicking the human vowels as best he could. ”But not here. I un-derstand. As soon as they are fairly on their way, I will muster the best arguments at my disposal.”
”I'm sure they'll be effective.”
Both turned back to watch as the second wall was raised into place and the human engineers commenced heat-sealing the corner where they joined. Nothing more was mentioned about the _Slanderscree's_ crusad-ing crew. Nothing more needed to be. While they were of different races, they understood one another perfectly?
”What do you know about this Poyolavomaar?” Ethan held onto a shroud as he spoke to Tahoding.
They were making their laborious way southward from Arsudun harbor, tacking into a stiff breeze.
”Only what the other captains on the icefront told me, friend Ethan. Four stars to port!” Responding to his command, the two burly helmsmen fought to turn the huge wooden wheel. A screeching sound slightly higher than usual came from the stern of the immense icerigger as the fifth duralloy runner, used to steer the vessel, cut sideways into the ice. Slowly the s.h.i.+p came around to a new heading.
For several days now they had been racing parallel to the island of Arsudun. They'd already covered, by Williams' estimates, over a hundred kilometers. It was evident that Arsudun was many, many times the size of Sof old, Hunnar and Tahoding's home island.
The lowlands around the city and harbor had long since given way to cliffs which rose steeply from the ice to heights of thirty meters or more. Trees and shrubs grew to the edge of the cliffs, forming an un-even fringe at their tops, making the weaving cliffline resemble the spine of a nervous green cat.
”You told me,” Tahoding went on, ”we should begin our quest with some nearby yet important state.
All of the captains and merchants I talked to agreed that Poyolavomaar was the most powerful in this region save Arsudun itself. It sounds like an interesting city to visit.”
Safely clear of other s.h.i.+ps, Tahoding was feeling conversational. ”According to Zho MidanGee, the captain who was most helpful to me, Poyolavomaar is a cl.u.s.ter of ten or more closely grouped and very steep islands. He said they are so near to one another that all but the very youngest cubs can safely chivan from one to the next. Having made two trips there him-self in past years, he most remembers that these is-lands form a circle, enclosed island to island by great walls much like the one which protects our own har-bor at Wannome.”
”It sounds very much like a place that could de-velop into a center of commerce,” Ethan admitted.
Tahoding made a gesture of agreement. ”Trade is the most important business there, MidanGee told me. If the walls all have gates, a captain could take his s.h.i.+p out of the enclosed harbor in any direction he chose, without worrying about where he would pick up a trailing wind.
”Still we must remember that many of these captains produce much of their own wind,” Tahoding said portentously, blithely excluding himself from the com-pany of icegoing prevaricators. ”They like to boast of their abilities and expertise. This Poyolavomaar may be naught but a cl.u.s.ter of metal-poor villages. Yet I think MidanGee as honest as most and am inclined to trust him.”
”We have to trust someone,” Ethan reminded him.
Tahoding studied the setting sun. The thermo-nuclear candle was almost straight ahead, its flaming upper curve beginning to settle beneath the martingale of the s.h.i.+p. He glanced down at something set just be-hind the great wheel.
”According to compa.s.s, Ethan, we have been chang-ing heading from south to southwest for the past two hours.” He gestured at the land ma.s.s of Arsudun, which was still to port. Only now port had become north instead of west.
”We have rounded the southernmost part of the is-land,” Tahoding continued. ”As the winds on the open ice will become stronger and the day is almost done, with your permission I would suggest anchoring for the night.”
”You're the captain, Tahoding. This s.h.i.+p is your charge. Do what you think best.”
”Thank you, Sir Ethan.” The portly Tran moved forward of the wheel, leaned over the helmdeck rail-ing and shouted forward. Sailors turned immediately to listen. Tahoding was deferential and meek in private conversation. But when giving orders to his crew, he made certain his words were audible above the wind.
”Kilpit, Monslawic!” Two mates acknowledged. ”Reef in all sails and prepare to anchor!”
These orders were voice-relayed back down the s.h.i.+p to the last sailor at the bowsprit. Each crawled his way up into the rigging. Once more Ethan marveled at the ability of the Tran sailors, who constantly had to set, adjust, and take in sails while walking on narrow spars in a perpetual gale.
When all the sheets were furled and the icerigger had come to a near halt, the fore and aft ice anchors were released. These cl.u.s.ters of metal thorns and spikes were usually set into a heavy globe of cast iron.
Those of the _Slanderscree_ gained additional holding power from the chips and shards of duralloy gleaned from the remnants of the cannibalized lifeboat in which Ethan and his friends had crashed.
There were nerve-tingling shrieks and crackings as the anchors snubbed themselves deeply into the ice fore and aft. The s.h.i.+p slipped slowly to the west, shoved by the persistent wind, until the pikapina cables holding the anchors grew taut. The creaking and groaning ceased. The _Slanderscree_ had come to a halt.
Immediately, blocking teams went over her side. They secured the s.h.i.+p by placing stone slabs in front and behind each of the five runners. Now the s.h.i.+p would not move unless struck by an abnormal wind.
Guards at stern and bow were posted more to warn of such an approaching weather front than of any flesh-and-blood peril.
Ethan remained on deck, watching the last glow of sunlight s.h.i.+ft steadily from yellow to red to purple.
”Not hungry, friend Ethan?”
Startled, his head jerked around. Yellow-framed black slits set in a furry face glowed back at him, flaming with sunset light.
”Not right now, Hunnar.” He turned back to lean on the railing and stare out across the ice.