Into the thinking kingdoms - Alan Dean Foster [153]
The swordsman was quietly outraged. “You ask me to deny myself, bruther. To go against the very substance of my being, to refute that which comprises a most basic portion of myself, to abjure my very nature.” He deliberated briefly. “How many diamonds?”
By the morning of the third day all was in readiness. Standing tall on the helm deck, the old woman who handled the ship’s wheel waiting for orders alongside her, Captain Stanager Rose gave the order to let go the fore and aft lines and cast off. With becoming grace, the Grömsketter waltzed clear of the quay and slipped out into the gentle current of the lower Eynharrowk. Adjusting sail and helm, she aimed her bow downstream. With only the mainsail set, she began to make use of the current and pick up speed.
Ehomba and Simna had joined the Captain on the stern while Hunkapa Aub lounged near the bow and the black litah slept curled atop a sun-swathed hatch, his long legs drooping lazily over the sides.
“A fine day for a departure.” Stanager alternated her gaze between the busy crew, the set sail, and the shore. Only when she was satisfied with the appearance of all three did she devote whatever attention remained to her passengers. “We’ll be through the Narrows by midmorning. From there it’s easy sailing to the delta and the mouth of the Eynharrowk.” At last she turned to the two men standing next to her, once more focusing on Ehomba to the exclusion of his shorter companion.
“Did you sleep well, herdsman?”
“Very well. I love the water, and the cabin bunks are sturdy enough so that my spine does not feel like it is falling out of my back.”
“Good. Later, Cook will begin to amaze you with her invention. We’re fortunate to have her. A ship may make do with a poor navigator, feeble sailors, even an indifferent captain, but so long as the food is good there will be few complaints.” Her tone darkened. “Enjoy the river while you can, Etjole Ehomba. Where it is smooth the Semordria is wave-tossed, and where it is inoffensive the sea is deadly. Throughout the crossing each one of us must be eternally vigilant. That includes any passengers.”
Simna nodded somberly. “As long as one can see the danger, it can be dealt with. Sometimes even made into an ally.”
She frowned at him for a moment, then looked away, returning her attention to the view over the bowsprit. “Your presence here is not required. You may relax in your cabin if you wish.”
“Thank you,” Ehomba responded courteously, “but after so long afoot it is a pleasure to be able to simply look at and enjoy our surroundings.”
She shrugged. “As you wish. If you’ll excuse me now, I have work to do.”
“Mind if I tag along?” Like a debutante donning her most expensive and elegant gown, Simna had put on his widest and most innocent smile. “I haven’t been on that many boats. I might learn something.”
Her expression was disapproving. “I doubt it, but you’ve paid well for the run of the ship.” She started forward.
“Now then,” the swordsman began, “the first thing I want to know is, what areas of the Grömsketter are off limits to us?”
Turning away from them, Ehomba moved to the rail and watched as the outskirts of industrious, hardworking Hamacassar slid past. They were on their way at last. Not on the Semordria itself, not yet—but on their way. How much farther they would have to travel to reach Ehl-Larimar once they landed on the ocean’s far shore he did not know. But whatever it was, it too would be crossed. Somewhere, he knew that the shade of Tarin Beckwith was watching, and whispering its approval.
The Narrows were comprised of opposing headlands whose highest point would not have qualified as a proper foothill on either side of the snow-capped Hrugars, but on the otherwise plate-flat floodplain they stood out prominently. Accelerating as it passed through, the vast river’s volume was compressed, causing the Grömsketter to pick up speed. As they drew near, Ehomba saw that what at first appeared to be trees were in fact more of the extraordinary triangular