Kerin picked out Huvraka by his turban. The shipmaster was a squat, thickset, powerful man with a deep-brown skin and a bristling black beard striated with gray. Besides the turban, he wore a pair of baggy trousers gathered at ankles and slippers with turned-up toes, leaving his upper body bare; the air was balmy during a late autumnal warm spell.
Kerin started up the gangboard. Noticing him, the captain bustled over to the inboard end of the plank. "What would you?" he said in accented Novarian. "Can't you see I am loading?"
"I thought to buy my passage," said Kerin.
"Oh, in that case. . . ." Huvraka shouted to another member of his crew in Mulvani. The man addressed, in loincloth with a strip of fabric around his head, began issuing orders to the deckhands.
"Now then," said Huvraka, turning back. "Whither go you?''
"To Salimor and thence to Kuromon. The harbor master said you sail to Salimor.''
"Aye, with stops at Janareth, Halgir, and Akkander. Are you coming alone? No wife or leman?''
"Yea."
"Then your fare will be twenty-six Mulvanian crowns."
"My money is in Kortolian marks," auid Kerin. He did sums in his head and said: "That should come to about forty marks."
Huvraka looked doubtful. "That's local market rate, no doubt; but I am giving only official rate; it is the law. According to that, your fare is coming to sixty marks."
Kerin had been warned to haggle over the fare. He hated bargaining, which made him squirm with embarrassment; but he knew he would have to harden himself. He said:
"I cannot afford such a sum, Captain. Hast any other passengers? I want to know with whom I must needs share quarters."
"Nay, you are only one," said Huvraka. "You are having your cabin to yourself."
"Well, since I'm your only passenger, 'tis either I or none. Under the circumstances, methinks you could give me passage for fifteen crowns, which would bring it down to the local rate of exchange."
Captain Huvraka snorted. "Nay, never! If you are not paying going rate, be off with you!"
"Very well," said Kerin, turning away. "I must needs await the next ship."
As he started back down the plank, Captain Huvraka called: "Ho, not so fast, young man! I am abating my charges somewhat, albeit not to ridiculous figure you named. How about twenty-three crowns?"
A half-hour's chaffer got Kerin his passage for forty-six marks. Then he set out to find the maker of dolls to whom the taverner had referred him.
When he finally found the man's house, he approached its door with lagging steps, horribly embarrassed to ask for doll's clothes. When he hesitated, his hand outstretched to pull the bell rope, a sharp, stabbing pain in the buttocks made him jump.
"Go on, craven!" tinkled Belinka's voice.
He rang the bell. The dollmaker, a stout man with a fringe of gray hair around a bald scalp, admitted him. Kerin squared his shoulders, stuck out his chest, and told the proprietor:
"Sir, I need a dress for a poppet about so high." He held his fingers apart at what he thought was Belinka's stature. Squirming, he added: "For my little niece."
The man shouted over his shoulder: "Ricola! Have we a spare frock for one of the Queen Thanudas?"
"Aye, methinks so," mumbled a woman's voice. The dollmaker's wife appeared with a mouthful of pins, holding a piece of cloth on which she had been sewing. She rummaged in a pile of miscellany and held up a dollsized, turquoise-colored dress. Taking the pins out of her mouth with her free hand, she said: "Will this do, young sir?"
Kerin disliked being referred to as "young" but he was so eager to begone from the place that he paid the asking price without haggling. Back at the inn, he whistled: "Belinka!"
"Aye? Let me see!" Kerin felt the dress snatched out of his hand. It bobbed about in midair before the faintly-seen form of Belinka, who chirped:
"Oh, curse of the purple skull! How shall I get the thing on over my wings?"
"If you're an immaterial being, what's the problem?" asked Kerin.
"Not so immaterial as all that. But you would not understand."
"I wondered about the wings, also. How about cutting a pair of slits?"
"'Twill spoil the effect!" she cried. "It won't hang aright!"
"How can I help that? Must these slits go all the way to the bottom, or can you fold your wings, like fans, to get them through narrower openings?"
"Methinks gaps about
so
long would suffice," she said, holding her hands apart. "Here, catch!" The bluegreen garment fluttered towards Kerin. "How wilt accomplish this task? By sawing with your dagger?"
"Nay," said Kerin. "My family sent me forth well equipped." From his bag he dug out a small canvas sack containing needles, thread, and small scissors. "They insisted I be able to mend my gear."
He set to work on the gown, saying: "Turn around, Belinka, and make yourself more visible—oh, damn!"
"What's amiss?"
"I cut the slit too far on one side. I fear I'm no tailor. Canst sew a fine seam?"
"Nay," she said. "Not wearing clothes on our plane, we've never developed that skill."
Kerin sighed and addressed himself to threading the needle. After several attempts, he said: "Belinka, your hands are daintier than mine. Could you stick the end of the thread through that little hole in the needle?"
"I will try. . . . Oh, you have the end frayed out, so of a surety it won't go." She licked the end of the thread and twisted it into a point. "There you be!"
Kerin began sewing the edges of the longer cut together. "Ouch!"
"What befell?"
"Pricked myself. Methinks this be my first needle."
For a few seconds he worked away quietly. Then Belinka, rummaging in Kerin's sewing kit, held up a shiny object. "What's this, Master Kerin? It looks like a helm for one of us Second Planers, albeit too small for me.
"That's what we call a thimble. I am supposed to use it somehow in this task, but I know not how." He continued sewing.
Belinka exclaimed: "You've got it all wrong, clumsy oaf! One side of the cut matches not the other, so the fabric will gather in bunches."
Kerin spread his hands. "'Tis my best effort. If it's not good enough, the reason is you distracted me by asking about thimbles."
"That's right, blame me for your clumsiness!" She paused, then said in a less petulant tone: "Why not ask the dollmaker's wife? Methinks she made the dress in the first place."
Kerin grunted. "A fine fool I should look, trailing back across half the city to ask her to repair my botchery! I'll try the wife of our present host."
Kerin went and found the innkeeper's wife. With another rush of embarrassment, he explained his errand. "This poppet for my little niece, now, has wings like unto an insect."
The innkeeper's wife examined the garment; Kerin was sure she was hiding a laugh. "'Tis a quarter-hour's work, an I guess not amiss. 'Twill cost you thrippence, Master Kerin."
"Agreed," he said.
Back in his room, he held out the dress for Belinka's inspection. She took it and flitted about, so that the bit of fabric fluttered this way and that. When she turned on her full visibility, she wore the dress with her wings protruding through the slits. "What thinkst?"
"Enchanting, my dear; though I admit I liked you the way you were. But you cannot wear the garment outside our room."
"And why not, sirrah? I can be invisible."
"Aye, but the sight of the dress fluttering about in midair, without occupant, were quite as arresting as your delectable form."
"Then take your damned dress!" she flung it at Kerin. "You Prime Planers make us work our arses off as familiar spirits, but you never let us have any fun!"
Kerin sighed. "Sorry, Belinka. And now the time for sailing nears, so we'd best be on our way."
II
The Ship
Dragonet
As the sun sank redly towards the serried roofs and sparkling towers of Vindium, Kerin neared the
Dragonet
's pier. A baldric over one shoulder supported his sword, while a strap on the other took the weight of the duffel bag on his back. As Kerin climbed the gangplank, Captain Huvraka said:
"Aha, Master Kerin, you are coming in good time. I am showing you your cabin. . . . But what is this?"
Belinka, glowing bluely and visible even in daylight, was flying circles round Huvraka's head, tinkling: "Oh, Captain, what a beautiful headdress! I must find somebody who can make me its ilk!"
"This your familiar spirit is?" asked Huvraka.
"Well, ah, yes it is," said Kerin. "She's quite harmless." Unless provoked, he silently added.
"You are thinking to bring it along on voyage?"
"Aye; she'll be no trouble."
"That may be; but then I am asking five marks more, for her passage."
"What!" cried Kerin. "That's an outrage! We had a firm agreement—"
"Ah, yes; but the agreement is not including other life forms. I am charging you same if you are a cat or dog aboard bringing."
"But she won't eat any of your food—"
"That is no matter. I am sticking to consistent policy. Pay or find another ship."
"Curse it, I will!" said Kerin. Defiantly he strode back down the plank. In his ear Belinka chirped:
"I am glad you won't sail on that ship, Master Kerin."
"Why?"
"There is a feel of evil about it."
"What sort of evil?" Kerin walked back towards the base of the pier.
"I cannot tell; 'tis a feeling I have, as of some evil supernatural presence. We sprites are sensitive."
Kerin drew a deep breath. "Then there's nothing for it but to hunt up the harbor master again. Let's hope he have not closed his office. . . . Oh, oh!"
He stopped. Coming upon the pier were three large, stout men with cudgels, and a smaller fourth man. Although the sun had dipped below the roofs of Vindium City, the sky was still bright above. By its light Kerin recognized Garic and his companions. The remaining man, a slight, gray-bearded oldster, wore a black robe to his ankles and a pointed skullcap.
"Well, fry my guts!" roared Garic. "Here's our little would-be wizard now! Give him the treatment, Frozo!"
The older man stepped forward, pointed a wand at Kerin, and shouted. With a whiplike crack, a jagged streak of blue luminescence shot from the wand towards Kerin. Even as Kerin winced, the streak ended in midair, a foot from his face, throwing a shower of sparks.
Again the words of power; again the crack and the flash; again the sparks. The small man said: "He is protected by a counterspell, like that which I put on you. I cannot pierce it."
"Well then," rumbled Garic, "we must needs use simpler means. Come on, boys!"
The trio started for Kerin, cudgels aloft. Kerin seized his sword but found it still affixed to its scabbard by peace strings. By the time he untied or cut them, the men would be upon him with clubs. He ran back along the pier, the duffel bag bouncing against his back.
At the
Dragonet
's berth, Kerin found a pair of loinclothed sailors preparing to haul in the gangboard and others standing by to cast off the mooring lines. He panted up the plank.
"Well," said Captain Huvraka, "you are changing your mind?"
"Aye," panted Kerin. "I thought that. . . ." He paused for breath.
Huvraka and the mate unhurriedly stepped to the inboard end of the plank, each with a slender, curving sword in a bronzen fist. Huvraka shouted: "Keep off, you! I am not letting you on board!"
He added a command in Mulvani. The sailors cast off the hawsers and dashed back up the plank, which the deckhands hauled aboard and stowed. The
Dragonet
drifted away from the pier. Ashore, Garic and his comrades shouted:
"Coward! Eunuch! Come back and fight! Horse turd!" Getting back his breath, Kerin asked: "How didst come to be armed so timely?"
Huvraka replied: "We are seeing fireworks on pier, with you and that hedge wizard. So, thinking we might have use for them, I am telling Mota to fetch our tulwars. Now, about your fare—"
"I'll pay as soon as I get this thing off," grunted Kerin, wrestling with his bag. "Fifty-one marks, right?"
"Ah, no, good sir. Since you are evidently dangerous cargo, pursued by enemies, I must be asking five marks more for the risk. That makes fifty-six."
"What? That's a swindle! We had an agreement—"
Huvraka shrugged. "If you are not liking, I am putting you back on pier.''
Kerin sighed; circumstances conspired against him. As he fumbled with his purse, Huvraka said: "You should not be sad, young sir. Look, since you are only passenger, will you do me the honor of messing in my cabin tonight?"
Kerin frowned in puzzlement, then said: "Oh, you mean to eat dinner with you?"
"Yea, sir. That is what I am meaning."
"Thankee; I shall be glad to."
When Kerin had stowed his gear in one of the
Dragonet
's two passenger cabins and emerged from his compartment in the deckhouse, he found the ship well away from shore. Eight sailors heaved on four sweeps to row the
Dragonet
out into the harbor. Others shinnied monkeylike along the yards, which lay in crutches rising from the deck, to untie the brails that retained the sails. Captain Huvraka shouted in Mulvani; sailors heaved on cranks, and the yards arose by little jerks. Other crewmen manned the sheets to give the yards the desired slant.
With popping sounds, the crimson-and-white-striped sails ballooned before the gentle westerly breeze, and the ship heeled slightly and picked up speed. The men at the sweeps shipped their oversized oars and stowed them. Other ships, anchored in the bay, drifted past: undecked Shvenish single-masters like magnified canoes; local coasters and fishermen, rigged like the
Dragonet
on a smaller scale; beamy deep-sea square-riggers; and long, low, lethal galleys of war.
As they reached open water, the
Dragonet
began to pitch and roll with a corkscrew motion. Kerin had been warned of seasickness and apprehensively awaited its manifestations.
Activity on the fantail drew his attention. A knee-high apparatus of copper struts had been set up, and behind it a brown-skinned woman sat cross-legged. She was plump, past her youth, and clad in foreign fashion. She wore a length of fabric, wound round and round her middle to make a short skirt, leaving her upper torso bare. Her smooth, flattish face suggested the Far East.
The apparatus included a bowl of water a span across, suspended from the apex of the tripod. Beneath it, a smaller dish hung by slender chains. In this dish, a little fire gave out ruby, golden, and emerald smokes, which the sea breeze snatched away. Edging closer, Kerin saw that the bowl was two-thirds full of water. The bowl and the dish beneath it pendulated as the vessel rocked.
As Kerin watched, the woman placed on the bowl a short straw with one end painted crimson. Captain Huvraka also watched. Trying his rudimentary Mulvani, Kerin pointed, saying:
"What is that?"
"Shh!" hissed the captain. "Magic."
The woman chanted in a tongue unknown to Kerin. As she sang, the floating straw rotated slowly until the scarlet end pointed to port. After it had wobbled about this direction and finally settled down, Huvraka shouted to the sailor at the tiller. Kerin caught the Mulvani word for "right-hand," and the
Dragonet
swung to starboard.
Huvraka grinned through his sable bush. "Now you see magic, Master Kerin. Janji is calling on her bir—you are saying her familiar spirit—to make straw point north. We go southeast by east. She my navigator is. Member of Salimorese Navigators' Guild." He glanced at the fading yellow-green afterglow in the western sky. "Time for dinner is. You are coming now."
Seated on a cushion on the floor of the captain's cabin, Kerin strove to cross his legs as did Captain Huvraka and Navigator Janji. Used to chairs, he found this posture difficult but hid his discomfort as best he could.
A brown, barefoot man in a skirt came in with pitcher and bowl, and towels beneath his arm. He poured water over his diners' hands, caught it in the bowl, and handed round the towels. Then he glided out, to return with three metal cups and a bottle, whence he poured a drink for each. Gathering up the towels, he slithered out again. Huvraka raised his cup.
"To success of quest, Master Kerin, whatever it be."
"Thanks," said Kerin. The liquor was smooth but stronger than any wine. "Captain, from what my brother told me, I thought Mulvanians drank nought alcoholic. At the palace in Trimandilam, they gave him only fruit juice."
Huvraka wagged a finger. "Ah, you are hearing tales of the strict Mulvani sects. We sailors are not so—so—what is your word? Straitlaced. Since we are belonging to one of lowest castes, what have we to lose by a little fun, like drinking
tari
? Drink up!"
Three drinks later, Navigator Janji asked: "Master Kerin, you are telling us what this quest of yours is."
His tongue loosened by liquor, Kerin talked: "I'm on my way to Kuromon to learn the secret of their clock escapement."
"What is?" said both Mulvanians at once. Huvraka added: "Some device for opening locks, so you are escaping from prison?"
"Nay, nay. An escapement regulates the speed of a clock, so it shall show noon at the same time as the sun every day. My brothers and I make and sell clocks as Evor's Sons. My brother Jorian has made inventions in clocks, but he has not attained a perfect escapement. . . ."
Kerin rattled on until dinner arrived. Then, as eating halted his spate of speech, he heard a tinkly little voice in his ear: "Master Kerin, you have let your tongue run away with you! Be more careful!"
Suddenly conscious of his imprudence, Kerin sat silently eating until Janji asked: "Are you doing aught with methods of navigation?"
"Why, no. I've never been on a ship before, and your spell is the first time I've seen such a thing. I've heard the Shvenites have a kind of crystal. . . . Why dost ask?"
"Oh, I am curious, being in that trade. How are you liking our food?''
"Excellent!" he said. Although he was not enthusiastic about this vegetarian repast, he remembered Jorian's drilling him in seizing every opportunity to flatter his hosts.
As the days drifted past, Kerin settled into his shipboard routine. He rose, ate, exercised, watched the sailors at their tasks, learned something of how the
Dragonet
worked, practiced his Mulvani, learned a little Salimorese from Janji, and went to bed again. On the second day out, Belinka told him:
"He-he, Master Kerin, that brown woman is more to Captain Huvraka than just his navigator!"
"You mean . . ."
"Indeed I do. She enters his cabin of nights. Her bir regards it as a joke, since the captain hath two wives at home in Akkander. He says—"
"Who says?"
"The bir, the familiar. He says they be frightfully jealous, though not of each other. But if they find out about Janji, they will make the captain's life not worth living. But my instincts tell me to beware of Janji! All Salimorese navigators are witches, saith the bir."
Kerin shrugged. "Huvraka's domestic arrangements concern me not."
Belinka tinkled on: "The bir considers it strange that in most of Novaria, none may marry more than one mate. That, he saith, means that where the numbers of men and women differ, some are left mateless."
"He may have the right of it," said Kerin.
Kerin enjoyed a day ashore at Janareth, amid the motley, polyglot crowds. As he returned to the
Dragonet
, he saw that a stranger of about his own size and shape was speaking with Captain Huvraka on the afterdeck. As Kerin approached, the new man turned. The newcomer was of nearly Kerin's age, clad in a red-and-yellow turban, a white many-buttoned jacket, slim-legged crimson trousers, and turned-up shoes. As Kerin took a closer look, he was surprised to see that the other young man, save that his hair, beard, and skin were darker, looked much like Kerin himself.
"Ah, Master Kerin!" said Huvraka. "You are meeting your new shipmate, Master Rao. Like you, he is going to Kwatna and thence, gods willing, on to Kuromon. He is taking the other passenger cabin."
"I am pleased to meet you," said Kerin in his meager Mulvanian, automatically extending a hand. Instead of clasping it, the other placed his palms together and bowed over his hands, saying:
"I, too, am pleased. You are speaking my language, I see."
"A few words only."
"Like unto my knowledge of your Novarian tongue, eh? I shall see you anon, if the seasickness lets me stir from my cabin. Already my stomach gives signs of discomposition."
Tide and wind dictated that Captain Huvraka should sail before that day's sunset. As the setting sun shot slanting scarlet rays from behind a bank of cloud, the
Dragonet
cleared the harbor and headed east across the darkling blue of the sea.
When Kerin entered the captain's cabin, he found Rao already there. The steward came in with his water and towels. When this chore was over, the steward reappeared with four cups instead of three and another bottle. Rao looked doubtfully at his cup, saying:
"I know not—it is against the rules of my master's sect. . . ."
"Oh, come on!" cried Huvraka heartily. "So small a sin will never affect your lot in your next incarnation. Besides, an adventuresome youth like yourself needs worldly knowledge to make his way."
Huvraka urged Rao some more; Kerin missed some of the speech, the language being still unfamiliar. But at last Rao held out his mug. He took a sip, coughed, and said:
"Whew!"
"Oft the first taste doth that," said the captain. "Try some more."
At length Rao got his cupful down. Kerin asked: "And what, Master Rao, sends you all the way to fabled Kuromon?"
Rao looked sly. "Aha, would I could tell you! It is a mission of utmost secrecy for my guru—my master."
"And who is your master, pray?"
"The mighty wizard and holy ascetic Ghulam. I am his chela, as he was once the chela of the great guru Ajendra. Surely you have heard of him, even in your backward land?"