The Warrior's Tale (20 page)

W
e limped south
for days, our supplies dwindling, our water brackish, but the reefs were unrelenting, never offering a channel towards home. Gamelan's health improved, although there was no sign his blindness was anything but permanent. We spoke rarely, and certainly did not bring up our conversation about the Archon. I think both of us believed it an aberration caused by exhaustion. My practical nature reasserted itself: the Archon was dead, by Te-Date! I'd seen him die myself, and even if he had cursed me with his last breath, I'd much rather be cursed by a dead man, than a live one who might actually be able to do something about it.

My women's attitude was we had won a great victory, and sooner or later we'd find our way around the reef and return home to many honours. Cholla Yi's men, however, muttered and cast dark looks whenever I was about. Neither Stryker, the sailing master Klisura, nor the rowing master Duban made any attempt to stop the muttering, or to cheer the men up. Instead, anything anyone said that was in any way positive, or hopeful, drew an immediate and quite negative response.

I was beginning to wonder how to deal with this, when we awoke one morning to air rich with the moist smell of fertile soil, strange blossoms, and the familiar tang of hearthsmoke. A hazy blue shape on the horizon hinted an island was ahead. We saw a tree floating in our path and hauled it aboard. Its leaves were trumpet-shaped, its buds purple and cream knots growing close on the limbs and its branches covered with fleshy, rose-coloured gourds, filled with a thick, sweet-tasting fluid that put sparkle to the eye and a lightness to the feet.

'There
must be
people about,' Polillo said. 'Nothing so good could exist without people to eat it.'

Corais laughed at her reasoning. 'You always think with your stomach, my friend.'

Polillo blushed, but her shy smile showed she'd taken no offence. She didn't answer, but pierced another gourd and held it out to me, her wrist curved like a serving maid's.

Despite her size and manner, there was something so feminine about Polillo - sometimes even dainty, if you can imagine daintiness in a near giant - that it has become the trait I remember most about her. I should tell you Polillo and I were nearly lovers when we were girls. We sighed and mooned over one another for nearly a week. It would have gone farther, but before our tender feelings were consummated we met at the bitts with our practice swords and after I'd disarmed her twice, she called it quits with some embarrassment. Later that night we agreed we should be friends for always, and not lovers, although that word was never mentioned. It was I who broached the subject, knowing Polillo would have difficulty being in the arms of a woman who was her superior in any feat of arms. Polillo agreed in obvious relief. But as the years passed, in rare moments we would look at one another with a tinge of regret. It would have been lust, pure and simple - not love - had we ever come together. But it would have made a stormy night.

I took the gourd from my girlhood crush, gave her a wink to let her know / remembered as well, and drank. The heady liquid lit hope in my belly. Perhaps Polillo was right Perhaps there
was
a hint of human life in the elixir's taste.

Gamelan hobbled up beside me. I'd detailed two Guardswomen to take care of him, and ignored his grumbles about being treated as if he were a cripple. Even blind, he was too valuable to us to chance losing through any accident.

I offered him the gourd, and he, too, drank deeply. 'Why is it,' he wondered as he passed it back, 'fruit this sweet never seems to grow in our own gardens, but always on the far side of strange seas and is guarded by demons?'

I was about to say so far we hadn't seen any particularly interesting monsters when the lookout in the bows shouted we were closing on land, and the sea was shallowing.

I noted a green isthmus extending out from one side of the island, almost like an arm reaching to embrace us. We entered a small, marshy bay and I saw the smoke columns of cooking fires. The blossom smell grew stronger, as well as the smells - both pleasant and foul - that said the island was inhabited. Marsh birds swept up from thick rushes along the peninsula, and we heard heavy drums. That brought me back, and I shouted to Stryker to halt the ship, and signal Cholla Yi's flagship for a conference.

Canoes skimmed out of the reeds. They were long and low to the water, with reeds painted on their sides, which had camouflaged their presence until they were on us. I shouted the alert, and in less than a long breath Ismet sounded the Guard to
battle
positions. My women leaped to their predetermined places, swords bared, spears at the ready, bows drawn. The rowers backed water and we quickly came to a stop. I heard the signal echoed from other ships' trumpeters as the fleet sprang to readiness.

The canoes drew into a long line and halted. One of the canoes sped out towards us. I've called them canoes, and so they were, but far unlike what a swain paddles his lover across a calm lake on. This craft, like its sisters, bore at least a hundred warriors, and I could make out, first the glint of their weapons, then the wild-coloured smears that striped their bodies, naked except for a pouch containing their sexual parts. A tall man stood in the bows. He carried a long, thick staff - decorated with red and green plumes of some forest bird and shaped like an engorged penis. His flesh was decorated with such glorious, swirling colour it was impossible to imagine anyone other than a man of high rank with many slaves at his beck and call, could have worn them.

The war canoe sped to our side and stopped. The tall man shouted up in a language none of us understood. His tone was imperious, his words, although indecipherable, were unmistakably a command. I chanced an answer in trader's cant, but although he turned to me, surprise on his face for being addressed by a woman, he shook his head to show he did not grasp my meaning. He grew angry, shouting at me and shaking his staff.

I felt a nudge. It was Gamelan. 'Do as I say,' he said. 'Quickly.'

Praying to Maranonia our wizard had his magic back despite his blindness, I said: 'What would you have me do?'

'Is there any more of that odd fruit about?' he asked. 'The gourdlike fruit, with the sweet-tasting milk?'

I still held the one Polillo gave me in my hand. I nodded, forgetting Gamelan was blind.

'Answer me,' he snapped. 'I cannot read your motions.'

'Yes,' I said, too worried about the angry chieftain to be embarrassed. 'I have one right here.' 'Drink it,' he said. 'But how—'

'Just drink it. Then repeat the words I give you.'

'Gladly,' I said. I drank deeply, then lowered the gourd. 'I've done it,' I said. 'Now, what shall I say?'

Gamelan gripped my arm. I was surprised at the strength in his wizened fist. 'You're going to have to do this yourself, Rali,' he hissed. 'I don't have my magic back, if that's what you're thinking. The Spell of the Tongues must be performed by
you?

I was taken aback. 'But I told you I have no talent.'

'Then we're all lost, Rali,' he said. 'For there is no one else in this fleet who can do it.'

I wanted to argue. I wanted to tell this wizard to begone! Instead, I said: 'Very well.'

Gamelan abrupdy began:
Words beget wisdom,'
he intoned
...
Words beget wisdom,'
I echoed
...
Words beget fools
..."

Although it was all nonsense to me, I repeated all he said. Then he commanded: 'Drink again, Rali. But this time, look inside and
...
See
...'

I drank again. But I didn't have the slightest notion what he wanted me to see that wasn't plainly in view.

'Look, Rali!' he hissed. 'Do you see the tree that bore that fruit?' I shook my head, forgetting his condition once again. 'The tree, Rali,' he pressed. 'Think of that tree.' Suddenly, I saw it, saw it floating in the water, saw the odd-shaped limbs, the blossoms, and the long, trumpet-like leaves. 'Look deeper, Rali,' Gamelan said. 'Deeper, still!' I tried with all my might. A door opened in my mind and a light flickered on and I saw the leaves move. They became tongues and the tongues began to speak: '...
words beget fools. Hear thy brother, hear thy sister, hear the stranger on the darkest night.'

The spell, for that was what it was, took a grip on me, harder than even Gamelan's grasp. My head swirled, fear quickened my heart, and with a great effort I pulled away to find myself gasping as if I'd just risen from a great depth. A humourless smile peered through Gamelan's white beard. 'You can talk to him now,' he said.

He took the gourd from my hand and drank. I saw him pass the gourd to Polillo and the others for them to drink as well.

Numb, I turned to the chieftain, who'd grown silent during the quiet struggle between Gamelan and me. He looked up at me, interest in his eyes, as if he sensed a bit of what had been going on.

'I am Captain Antero of Orissa, My Lord,' I tried.

The chiefs eyes widened, and I could see he understood. 'You are in command?' he asked, barely hiding amazement.

'Yes. I command, here. And I speak for all when I tell you that we come with peaceful purpose. We come as friends.'

The chieftain laughed. 'I already have friends,' he said. 'Why should I want more?'

'Come aboard and meet us, My Lord,' I said. 'You'll see at once that we can be good friends to add to the others.'

I didn't think he'd agree, at least not immediately. To my surprise, he called to his men to wait and leaped for the side. In a moment, he was pacing the deck, looking all the taller from so much naked, painted skin. His outward appearance was as barbaric as any I'd ever seen. He wore his hair in plaited ropes, each daubed with a different colour, each decorated with rough gems, odd, gold figurines, and bits of ivory, feathers and beads. The body of a great, taloned lizard was painted on his chest. It coiled about his neck and emerged at his right cheek, its mouth open and angry, hissing flames that were actually his braided, red-painted beard. A naked woman curled up his right thigh, a beautiful boy, his left; each had their hands outstretched as if to enclose his sex pouch, which bulged with virile muscle. He stopped in front of me, and looked me up and down. Despite his barbaric appearance, I saw cold intelligence in his eyes. I stared back, refusing to be cowed by his heavy male posturing.

He frowned, then rapp
ed his staff against the deck, ‘I
am Keehat,' he said. 'I am King.'

'We are honoured, King Keehat,' I replied, careful to mix authority along
with my respect. 'But
you must forgive our
ignorance, for
we are strangers here. What is the name of your realm?'

'These are the Isles of Lonquin,' he said. He looked about our galley, then peered beyond us at the others. 'The shaman didn't tell me you would have such fine ships.' His eyes glittered with greed.

'You knew we were coming?' It was not possible to mask my surprise.

'I knew,' he replied, grimly. 'All of us knew.'

'Then I hope you will welcome us,' I said, not daring to question more. 'We have rich gifts to please a king. All we ask is to buy a little food, some water, and perhaps a small area to beach and repair our galleys. I'm certain your shaman told you we do not intrude upon you by choice, Your Highness. We are victims of the sea, and want only to return to our homes as quickly as possible.'

He ignored this, saying: 'You are from the other side of the reef?'

'Yes, Your Highness. And we planned to go no farther, but the sea lifted us up and carried us across.'

'You were unlucky,' Keehat said.

'Yes,' I said. 'Unlucky.'

‘
We are a lucky people,' the King said. 'At least we were until a few days past. Then, the sea gods grew angry and cursed us. They sent large waves that burst upon our shores. Villages were lost. Fields were destroyed. And now many of our children have no fathers and no mothers, and many of our fathers and mothers no longer have children.'

'Then we are kin to the same misfortune, Your Highness,' I said. 'For we have lost loved ones and comrades as well.'

King Keehat only stared at me. His face was expressionless, but I did not sense welcome. Then he said: 'The shaman claims you are the cause of our bad luck.'

'That can't be,' I said. 'We are also normally a lucky people. If truth be known, when the sea struck us, we had only just defeated a terrible enemy in a battle so great that only those favoured by the gods could survive, much less win.'

The King glanced at the galleys and saw the scars of
battle
. 'Perhaps so,' he said at last. 'My shaman was also ignorant of the quality of your ships. But he's youn
g, and before I had his father
killed, he promised his son would serve me ably.'

I did not answer - there was none called for - but only bowed to show respect.

'Where is your shaman?' the King asked.

I pointed to Gamelan. 'Here is our wizard. In our land he is the master of all our Evocators, and a very wise, and powerful man.'

Gamelan stepped forward to greet him, but he seemed to lose his footing and stumble, he caught himself on Keehat's staff. The King snatched it away, insulted. As he did so, I saw Gamelan clutch a feather, which ripped free. He hid it in his robes, then bowed in the wrong direction.