Into the thinking kingdoms - Alan Dean Foster [154]
With Stanager absent from the helm deck, he wandered over to query the stolid, stocky woman behind the ship’s wheel. “Your pardon, Priget, but what are those odd free-standing spires?”
“You don’t know?” She had a thick accent that he had been told instantly identified her as coming from far upriver. “They’re the time gates. They’re what has kept Hamacassar strong and made it the preeminent port of the middle Eynharrowk. Kept it from being attacked and looted for hundreds of years. The Gate Masters’ guild watches over them, decides when they are to be used and when kept closed.”
Ehomba pondered this as the helmswoman nudged the wheel a quarter degree to port. “What kind of gates did you say they were? Does time gate mean they are very old?”
“No. They are . . . hullo, what’s this?” Setting his question aside, she squinted to her left. Moments later Stanager was back on the high stern, Simna trailing behind like an eager puppy.
She ignored both men. “You see the flags, Priget?”
“Yes, Captain. How should we respond?”
Stanager looked conflicted. “The flags are small and still a goodly distance off. Hold your course and we’ll see what they do. They may be testing us, or flagging a small boat somewhere close inshore.”
“Ayesh, Captain.” The helmswoman settled herself firmly behind the wheel.
Sensing that now was not a good time to lay a raft of queries upon the Captain, Ehomba and Simna both held their questions. The Grömsketter continued to slip swiftly downriver, using its mainsail more for steering than propulsion in the heightened current.
Following their eyes, Ehomba saw what they were scrutinizing so intently. Near the base of the second triangular monolith on the south bank stood a cluster of reddish buildings dominated by a three-story brick tower. Atop this formidable structure was a mast from which presently flew three large, brightly patterned flags. The designs that were of such evident significance to Captain and helmswoman meant nothing to him, nor to Simna. He also thought he could see several figures waving both arms above their heads.
A hand came down on his shoulder as the swordsman pointed. “See there, Etjole. Something is happening.”
Between the towers that stood on opposing headlands a deep blue glow was coalescing. Shot through with thousands of attenuated streaks of bright yellow and white like captured lightning, the effulgence extended from the crests of the towers down to the surface of the river, clearing it by less than half a foot. From the depths of the potent luminescence there emanated a dull roar, like an open ocean wave curling and breaking endlessly back upon itself. The glow flowed swiftly from tower to tower, as far as the eye could see. Remembering what Priget had told him of the structures’ purpose, Ehomba imagined that the deep cobalt light must extend to encircle all of greater Hamacassar.
“That’s it.” Stanager looked resigned. “They’re calling us in. Priget, steer for the inspection docks.”
“Ayesh, Captain.” The helmswoman promptly spun the wheel. Slowing only slightly, the Grömsketter began to turn sharply to port.
“What’s happening? Why are we heading in?” Relaxed and talkative only moments ago, Simna was suddenly nervous.
“Probably only a random check,” the Captain assured him. “The Gate Masters run them on occasion, both to flex their muscles and remind travelers on the river of just who is in charge, and to ascertain the condition of the time gates.” She nodded toward the dense blue radiance. “Those, at least, appear to be functioning flawlessly.”
“I do not understand.” Simna spoke both for himself and his friends. “What are these time gates? What is that banded blue glowing?”
Stanager Rose did not smile. “You really are from far away, aren’t you?”
“Captain,” the swordsman told her, “all your long and difficult journeys notwithstanding, you have no idea.”
She spared him barely a glance before turning back to Ehomba. “The streaked blue glow is Time itself. The ancient Logicians