Helliconia Summer - Brian W. Aldiss [418]
‘What is it, my sweetings, my familiars?’
They raised their smiling faces and kissed her shoulders. She knew each member of the inner court by sight and had names for them.
Something worried them. She relaxed, letting her understanding spread out like her urine through the water. She swam deep with them, out to colder water. They spiralled about her, occasionally touching her skin with their skin.
Secretly she hoped to catch a glimpse of the monsters of the true sea. She had not been exiled long enough in Gravabagalinien ever to catch a glimpse of them. However, they appeared to be telling her that this time trouble came from the west.
They had warned her of the death-flight of the assatassi. Although they lacked her time sense, she began to appreciate that whatever was coming was coming slowly but remorselessly, and would arrive soon. Strange thrills worked in her. The creatures responded to her thrills. Every shudder of her body was part of their music.
Understanding her curiosity, the dolphins guided her forward again.
She stared through the zafferine panes of the sea. They had brought her to the brink of a shallow shelf, on which seaweeds grew, bent before the overmastering current. They pushed through. Beyond was a sandy basin. Here were the multitudes of the retinue, line on line, facing westwards.
Beyond them, moving with the wary action of a patrol, was the whole force of the regiment, close together, body almost touching body, making the sea black and extending farther out than vision could penetrate. Never before had the queen been allowed such a close sight of the whole school, or realised how vast it was, how many individuals comprised it. Matching the complex ranks assembled came a tremendous harmony of noise, extending far beyond her human hearing.
She surfaced, and the court followed. MyrdemInggala could remain submerged for three or four minutes, and the dolphins needed to take breath as she did.
She glanced towards the shore. It was distant. One day, she thought, these beautiful creatures that I can love and trust will carry me away from sight of mankind. I shall be changed. She could not tell whether it was for death or life she longed.
Figures danced on the remote shore. One figure waved a cloth. The queen’s first response was, indignantly, that they were using her dress for the purpose. Then she realised that they signalled to her. It could only mean a crisis of some kind. Guiltily, her thoughts went to the little princess.
She clutched her breasts in sudden apprehension. To the inner court she gave a word of explanation, before striking back towards the shore. Her familiars followed or plunged before her in arrowhead formation, creating a favourable wake to hasten her strokes.
Her dress lay untouched on her throne, the phagors guarding it, shoulders hunched and acknowledging no excitement. One of the maids, in desperation, had ripped off her own garment to wave. She assumed it again as MyrdemInggala emerged from the water, reluctant to have anyone compare her body with the queen’s.
‘There’s a ship,’ cried Tatro, eager to be first with the news. ‘A ship is coming!’
From the headland, using the spyglass which ScufBar brought, the queen saw the ship. CaraBansity was sent for. By the time he arrived on the scene, two further sails were sighted, mere blurs in the murk of the western horizon.
CaraBansity rubbed his eyes with a heavy hand as he returned the spyglass to ScufBar.
‘Madam, to my mind the nearest ship is not from Borlien.’
‘Where, then?’
‘In half an hour, its marking will be clearer.’
She said, ‘You are a stubborn man. Where is the ship from? Can’t you identify that insignia on its sail?’
‘If I could, madam, then I would think it was the Great Wheel of Kharnabhar, and that is