Part 7 (1/2)
Tradition likewise deemed the bodies of the fallen enemy unhealthy. Being likely to spiritually poison the fields, these chilled torsos were unceremoniously dumped over the side. While the s.h.i.+p's shaman re-paired fleshy wounds, her carpenter set about fixing the railings where the skyoutlanders' light knives had burnt through.
Repair operations under way, a far larger and more alert guard was mounted and the rest of the crew returned to their hammocks or supper, whatever they were doing when interrupted.
When everyone else had resumed downing cold food, an empty seat was noted in the chamber. The seat was the one located between Hunnar and Ethan.
”Who has last seen the Landgrave's daughter?” Hunnar's gaze met the curious stares of knights, squires and mates. Individual denials combined to create an air of anxiety in the room. It seemed that no one could remember seeing Elfa since they had first come to eat.
One sailor ventured that he'd seen her on deck fighting with the rest of the crew. Being occupied fully with preserving his own life, he hadn't been able to watch her for long.
Hunnar rose. ”Search the s.h.i.+p. Begin with the three cabins, then the interdeck storage bins, then the rigging”
For a second time the meal was abandoned as the inhabitants of the chamber spread out across the ves-sel. Every centimeter of wood was examined, every yard and sail locker combed. What the last areas searched lacked in likelihood, they made up for in the unanimity of response they produced.
Elf a KurdaghVlata was no longer on the s.h.i.+p.
It was suggested she'd fallen or been knocked over the side. Scrambling over lines and ladders, the crew flooded the ice around and beneath the icerigger. Sep-tember, Ethan and Hunnar quickly joined the search. Oil lamps carried by chivaning sailors suggested a conclave of fireflies, darting and weaving irregular search patterns over the ice. Several followed the line of inert forms stretching unevenly toward the nearby cliffs.
Once more all reports were negative. Elfa was nei-ther alive aboard s.h.i.+p nor dead on the ice.
”They would not?” Hunnar paused, collected himself. ”They would not have taken her corpse.” His teeth showed and he was not smiling. ”She would be of no use to anyone in any- capacity? if dead. We must a.s.sume she had been taken by those who escaped.”
Senior warrior among all the a.s.sembled Tran, Balavere Longax half-grinned in the direction of the dark island. ”Sympathy to them, then.”
”Suaxus, Budjir, choose twenty crew, volunteers all, for an attempt.” Hunnar glanced at the quiescent icerigger. ”We can spare that many and still leave the s.h.i.+p safely protected, should this abduction be a diver-sion to weaken our defenses.”
”You realize,” September growled, raising his voice to make himself heard above the wind, ”that if they hole up in any kind of fortified camp, we're going to have a h.e.l.luva time worming her out.”
”Would you think of not trying?” Hunnar spoke calmly, but Ethan could see the knight was holding himself together with great effort.
”Of course not.” Ethan couldn't tell if the big man was being sarcastic or not, and he couldn't see his ex-pression beneath the survival suit mask. He tapped the tiny weapon attached to his waist. ”If you're going to have any kind of chance, you'll need our fire-power.” Hunnar turned his attention to Ethan.
”This is not your fight, my friend.”
”Hunnar, in the eighteen months I've known you, that's the stupidest thing you've ever said.”
Hunnar's expression said thanks, his grat.i.tude no less eloquent for being nonverbal.
”We must get the other things we brought with us from Bra.s.s Monkey,” Ethan continued. ”It won't take us a minute to get ready.”
”It will take time to a.s.semble the party,” Balavere said.
The two humans reboarded the s.h.i.+p. On returning to the ice, they sat down and began to do strange things with their feet. Hunnar's curiosity took his mind off Elfa for a moment.
”Williams will stay on board,” Ethan told him, puff-ing with the effort of what he was doing. ”We should leave at least one beamer on the s.h.i.+p in case they try another attack.”
”I do not think they will,” said Hunnar, staring at Ethan's feet. ”But it is a wise man who leaves one trap by the door of his house when he goes hunting.” Unable to resist any longer, he gestured at September.
”What is it you do to your feet?”
Ethan stood, rocked awkwardly, but kept himself upright. ”They're called ice skates, Hunnar.” He bent, adjusted a strap. ”They're artificial chiv, that fit over our own chivless feet. These are kind of special. We found out some of the workers in Bra.s.s Monkey had them made in the station metalforming shop. They have gyroscopic compensators built into the soles.”
”I do not understand this gyoscopek. But what do they compensate for?”
”For our clumsiness.” He stumbled, seemed about to fall, when his feet suddenly s.h.i.+fted fluidly to help him regain his balance.
Hunnar wondered if they would compensate enough. Perhaps they needed more gysocopeks.
The a.s.sembled crewmembers wore uniformly grim expressions.
”I think this expedition will run smoother,” Sep-tember said, ”if Ethan and I concentrate on just stayin'
upright.”
”I understand.” Hunnar called up to someone lean-ing over the railing. Several lengths of pikapina cable were tossed over the side.
One end of both cables were braided together. Hun-nar handed the thick joined end to Ethan. Two sailors picked up the other two ends, opened their arms. Wind rilled their dan, and Ethan found himself starting to move forward. September was alongside, like-wise making use of the tow.
And suddenly they were racing toward the cliffs at nearly sixty kilometers an hour.
Ethan gritted his teeth behind the mask. If he lost his balance or his grip at this speed, a rough place on the ice ocean might rip even the tough material of the survival suit, admitting air cold enough to freeze skin on contact. Somehow he managed, though his bent knees ached and his hands throbbed.
Suaxus yelled at him from nearby. ”Ready, friend Ethan! We are going to turn.”
He tried to strengthen his grip, but his hands were numb from the strain and he couldn't tell if his grip was growing any stronger. On command, every Tran in the group dropped his or her left arm, leaned to the right, and swerved sharply in that direction.
Ethan worried about the strain on the cable as he snapped around like a rock on a string. But the cable held, and so did his wrists. They were running toward the cliffs in a wide arc. A glance between his feet showed they were following the ice paths cut by the retreating survivors of the a.s.sault on the s.h.i.+p.
It was nearing midnight, and the incredible cold of the Trannish night began to penetrate the im-mensely efficient thermo-tropic material of his suit Once he slid open the face mask of his suit just a fraction, and a thin blast of air hit him like a tenkilo boulder. He closed it immediately, s.h.i.+vering not from the cold. How quickly out here his blood could freeze solid in his veins.
There were shouts from the head of the group. Suaxus, noting Ethan's curious stare through his face mask, pointed upward. They were nearly below the clufs now. Twenty-five meters above, the irregular sil-houette of trees growing at the edge thrust black spines into the moonlit sky.
A small fortress rode the edge of a spire of rock. It was separated from the main island by a five-meter-wide gap spanned by a wooden drawbridge.
The group swung off into shadow. ”We'll try to go up an unguarded side,” Hunnar was saying. ”There should be only one walkway cut into the rock, and it is bound to be watched.”
Such a walkway would be cut into the sheltered lee of the rock spire, on its eastern side. The little knot of armed Tran and humans decelerated on its dark, windswept, western flank.
Ethan let go of the cable, tilted his head back and struggled with feet intent on flying out from under him. The wall of the small fortress above was built of mas-sive stone blocks. There were no turrets or peaked roofs for the wind to tear at.
”It does not seem possible,” one of the squires fi-nally declared. ”It is too straight.”
”No it's not.” The squire stared at September.
”Do we fly up like the guttorbyn, skyoutlander?”
September walked-skated rather-to the base of the rock pillar. The stone tapered toward the top.
”It's only about twenty meters. We could climb it.”
”You mean, leave the ice?” Hunnar's eyes widened.