A Triumph of Souls (15 page)

“Be careful,” the herdsman called after him.

“Why?” Simna smiled back over his shoulder. “Afraid I might figure out how to see her ‘light’?”

“No,” Ehomba responded. “Afraid that you might see it. You’re all too easily blinded by such things, Simna ibn Sind.”

A
fter so long out of sight of land (the Tilo Islands being a horrific recollection that every man and woman aboard firmly desired
to expunge from their memories), the majestic spectacle of the Quonequot Cliffs looming on the western horizon roused a throaty
cheer from passengers and crew alike when they finally hove into view. Rising vertically a thousand feet from the waves that
broke against their base and plunging to untold depths below the surface, the white-chalk precipices terminated in a massive
headland that marked the entrance to Kylles Bay. Beyond and within lay the fabled western trading city of Doroune.

Stealing a moment from her navigational duties, Stanager Rose left the helm in the capable hands of Priget, who had guided
the
Grömsketter
into the bay several times before, and walked over to stand alongside the most puzzling passenger she had ever carried. At
present, he was gazing thoughtfully over the starboard side, studying the lofty white escarpment as the ship neared land.
Dragonets of many sizes and colors glided regally along the cliff faces, where they found safe nesting sites among the sheer
walls.
In this they were not alone. Ceaseless screeching and cawing and hissing testified to the competition for prime sites among
dragonets and puffins, gulls and terns. As Captain and passenger stood side by side at the rail, a formation of great osteodontornids
glided by overhead, their twenty-foot wings momentarily blocking out the sun, their tooth-filled beaks intent on tracking
a school of small fish shoaling by just beneath the breaking spume.

“What will you do now?” she inquired of the silent herdsman.

He did not turn to look at her, but instead kept this gaze on the immense chalky headland. “As I told you before we set out
on this crossing, I am bound by personal covenant to journey to a land called Ehl-Larimar, there to seek out a woman called
the Visioness Themaryl, and return her to her family in Laconda. Ehl-Larimar lies to the west of here, so it seems I must
keep traveling west.” Shifting his attention from the imposing headland, he smiled down at her. “I have already been too long
away from home. I hope I do not have to travel so far west that I meet myself coming.”

She laughed, caught herself, and choked slightly on the unusual reaction. “That’s silly, Etjole. Nobody can meet themselves
coming.”

With a sigh, he returned his attention to the place where the incoming swells shattered themselves against the white ramparts.
“It depends how far west one has to go, and what one means by ‘west.’ This Doroune, is it as big as Hamacassar?”

She shook her head. “Haven’t been that far inland—the crew and I keep pretty much to the harbor because that’s where both
our business and recreational interests lie. But
from all that I’ve seen and heard on previous trips, it’s a much smaller place. Most of the coastal towns we visit and trade
with are like that. Transit points for goods from farther inland. They don’t get many visitors from across the Semordria.”
She grinned confidently. “Everyone knows only fools and imbeciles dare attempt the ocean crossing.”

Solemnly, he put a hand on her shoulder. “As one fool to another, let me say that it has been an honor to travel on your ship,
Captain Rose.”

She nodded once, as eloquent an acceptance of the compliment as she could manage. Straightforward praise made her uncomfortable.
Easier for her to deal with a storm or a mutinous crew than an unabashed encomium.

“Thanks.” They were silent for a while, standing side by side, watching the sea and the birds and the dragonets as Priget
and Terious deftly maneuvered the
Grömsketter
around the southern tip of the headland and into Kylles Bay. Heading north once again but this time in calm, sheltered waters,
Ehomba soon found he could make out the steeples and peaked roofs of Doroune in the distance.

“Look,” she said finally, “I’ll be a goodly while sailing down the coast and then back up again, selling off not only our
own trade goods but those we pick up along the way. Can’t give you exact times and dates because this sort of unscheduled
trading isn’t done to a timetable. But we’ll for sure be calling at Oos, Xemon-scap, Polab, Sambley, and Calenx. Can’t say
if we’ll go farther than that. The weather south of Calenx can turn at the drop of a line.” It was her turn to put a hand
on his arm.

“If your travels take you to any of those cities, don’t depart without asking about us. If—when you’ve accomplished your quest,
you’ll be wanting passage home. Can’t
take you to Ehl-Larimar—don’t even know where it is—but we
can
carry you back across the Semordria.” This time her grin did not surprise her. “Try and hang on to a few of your pebbles.
I like you, Etjole Ehomba. I find much to admire in you. And much that bewilders me. But while I like to think there’s much
goodness in my heart, that doesn’t include free passage.”

He nodded understandingly. “A few pebbles. Thoughts of them will keep your supercargo feeling younger than his years.”

“Broch’s a good fellow. Sharp mind, sound seaman. He’s devoted to me, and to the ship, and has made it his mission to see
to it that both of us stay afloat. Enjoy your last moments on the
Grömsketter
, Etjole Ehomba. She’ll miss you, and so will I.” She stepped back from the railing. “There’s much of interest to see on the
final leg of our approach into Doroune. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some small matters of navigation to attend to below.”

He watched her until she disappeared down one of the ladders that led to the main deck. Straight of back and purpose, she
was a fine woman. The sea had burnished her like bronze, had knocked off all the rough edges and replaced them with the sharpness
of salt and the fire of red coral. Mirhanja would like her, he decided.

High on the white cliffs above, dragonets and seabirds screamed as the ship came around. It would be strange, he thought,
to have again beneath his feet a floor that did not roll. Were he not so devoted a herdsman, he had often thought he might
have become a sailor.

But such a thing was not possible for a Naumkib. They were a people of their land. If men such as he went off to sea, who
would watch over the village and the herds? He
inhaled deeply of the fresh, pungent salt air, knowing that it might be some time before he could fill his lungs with it again.

Activity busied the docks of Doroune, but the crowds and freneticism he had encountered in Hamacassar were absent. There was
about the people here a sense of purpose, but not desperation. They wanted to make money, but none were dying of the need
to do so. It was a simpler place, an easier place, especially for four strangers.

What, he found himself wondering, would Ehl-Larimar be like?

After spending the night on the boat, the following morning Ehomba was more than a little shocked to see Hunkapa Aub carrying
Simna ibn Sind down the unloading ramp, with a dour Ahlitah padding behind. From above, Terious and Priget waved good-bye.
Of Captain Stanager Rose there was no sign. He was not surprised. She had made her farewell to him the previous day.

“Simna, what happened? What is wrong with you?”

“Wrong?” Tired eyelids fluttered and a wan smile flashed across the swordsman’s countenance. “Hoy, nothing’s wrong, bruther.”
With a shaky hand he gestured toward his feet. “Me legs aren’t working right just now, that’s all. A little rest and they’ll
be fine.” Looking away from his tall friend, he let his eyes roll skyward. “Me, I’m already fine. Very fine indeed. Except
for me lower appendages, thank you.” With that he closed his eyes, and was almost instantly asleep.

Hunkapa bore Simna’s limp body effortlessly as they made their way inland from the docks. Puzzled, Ehomba sought enlightenment
from Aub, even though he felt he
was attempting to mine a strata devoid of that particular ore.

“What happened to him?”

“Don’t know.” Brows like shredded rags drew together as the big biped struggled to cogitate. “Friend Simna not much speak
today.” The bestial visage brightened. “Simna say he talk navigation with Captain Rose. Last night.”

“Naviga—?” Finding understanding where he had expected to unearth none, the herdsman concluded the excavation silently. Clearly,
for his friend Simna, whatever else they might stumble into, Doroune had for him already proven a propitious port of call.

Halting in the middle of a small plaza with a public drinking fountain before them, Ehomba considered the shopfronts that
ringed the circular square. “We need a guide, some information, and instruction.”

Still carrying the swordsman, who was by now awake, moaning, and holding himself, Hunkapa gestured with his great shaggy head.
“Ehomba want go west. Hunkapa guide! That way, west.” Next to him, Ahlitah commented by farting.

Leaning on his spear, the herdsman smiled tolerantly at his oversized companion. “That is very good, Hunkapa. I am glad you
know which way is west. But before we start we should try to learn something about the country we must pass through.”

Eventually a resident brave enough to stop at Ehomba’s request directed them to a large dispatch house where wagons of many
sizes and descriptions were being fitted out with sails. The travelers had already encountered several of these sturdy, wind-powered
vehicles steering their way around the city. According to the helpful citizen, the
dispatch center was a good place to find not only transportation inland, but also a guide to convey them there.

Their inquiries met with the same kind of amused skepticism Ehomba had encountered before. It was a reaction that, on repetition,
was beginning to grow tiresome. Was he the only man who believed that to travel from one place to another, no matter how reputedly
dangerous or difficult, all that was required was for one to start walking in the requisite direction?

“Lissen, you,” stammered the ancient pathfinder who was too bored not to talk to them, “we all every one of us knows where
Ehl-Larimar lies.” Raising a shaky finger that resembled a strip of rolled saddle leather, he pointed westward. Behind Ehomba,
huge hands clapped delightedly together.

“See, Etjole, see! Hunkapa know, Hunkapa guide!”

“Be quiet, Hunkapa,” the mildly annoyed herdsman admonished his hulking friend. The matted one fell silent.

“If you all know how to get to Ehl-Larimar, why cannot one of you guide us there?”

“Because the difficulty’s not in the knowin’, it’s in the goin’.” Peering behind his questioner, the elderly guide considered
the herdsman’s blond hair. “Why you braid up your locks like that, man? Seen wimmens do it, but never ‘til now a buck.”

“It is the style among the men of my village.” Uncharacteristically, Ehomba was becoming impatient with this short, skinny
sage, who reminded him of chattering macaws. “What is so difficult about the going to Ehl-Larimar that you and all your colleagues
refuse to take us?”

Aged eyes that had seen much rolled in their sockets as
if loose. “Why, out west there’s dangerous wild critters everywhere, some of ‘em monstrous big, others with long fangs that
drip poison.” To emphasize the latter, he protruded his upper jaw far beyond the lower and flapped it to simulate biting motions.
“First you have to get through the Hexen Mountains. Then there’s the demons what live in the interior, and hostile tribes
of things thet ain’t always human.” He was waving his birdlike arms wildly now, using them to magnify the drama of his own
declamations.

“Get past them, and then there’s the Tortured Lands, and beyond thet, the Curridgian Mountains with their ice fields and rock
slides.” Lack of wind finally forced him to call a halt to the hymn of horrors.

“And after that?” Ehomba asked quietly.

“After thet? After thet!” Calming himself with an effort, the senior pathfinder took a deep breath. “Why, after thet is Ehl-Larimar
its very self, and beyond there, the Ocean Aurreal.”

“Another ocean?” Raising himself up, Simna had his hirsute nurse place him on the ground. On shaky legs, he confronted his
lanky friend. “By Guisel’s gearing, Etjole, no more long sea voyages! I beg you!”

Ehomba’s brows rose slightly. “I thought you enjoyed our sojourn on the sea.”

Anxious eyes gazed up at him. “Hoy, long bruther, it wasn’t the voyage that leaves me looking like this. It were the arrival.”

The herdsman nodded noncommittally. “Somehow I do not think we would face a similar situation on another ocean entirely, but
I will certainly keep your concerns in mind. I do not see why it would be necessary for us to take
passage on this western ocean anyway, since if it lies to the west of Ehl-Larimar, we should reach our destination before
we encounter it.” Turning back to the guide, who was by now feeling sorely left out of the verbal byplay, he offered his thanks
for the information.

While not one of the available pathfinders could be induced to travel with them, the master of the dispatch center was persuaded
to sell them a windwagon and supplies. Ehomba was once more astonished to see in what exalted regard other peoples held the
humble colored beach pebbles he had brought with him from the shore just north of the village. While the supply in the little
cotton sack was diminished, it was by no means exhausted, suggesting that if the same responses were to be encountered elsewhere,
they might be able to pay for their needs the rest of the way to distant Ehl-Larimar without misgiving.

Though with Hunkapa Aub and the black litah aboard, the windwagon was a bit crowded, it held them all, together with their
newly purchased supplies. Steering was by means of a straightforward tiller-and-axle arrangement, and manipulation of the
single simple square of canvas that provided the wagon’s motive power posed no problem for travelers who had just spent weeks
aboard a large sailing vessel. To the cheers and jeers of the personnel at the dispatch station (their respective individual
reactions being directly related to how much of the visitors’ story they had happened to overhear), the four adventurers once
more set sail, this time in a craft both smaller and noisier than the graceful and recently departed
Grömsketter
.