Chorus Skating (20 page)

“I was a little upset,” his friend replied. “Still, I tried to choose my words carefully. But you know how music can get to me. I overdid things. Again.” Behind him the cloud of ambulatory music hummed softly. “I told them that I'd try to repair matters.”

The otter pursed his lips. “Can you?”

“I don't know. You know how it is with my spellsongs.” He glanced past his friend. Huddled together for reassurance, the princesses sprawled on the far side of the fire, clustering close to the bulk of Umagi of Tuuro like buttercups in the shadow of a sheltering boulder.

“Watch your comments,” he added as he laid back down and pulled his cape up around his neck.

Chapter 11

BY MIDMORNING OF
the following day the trees began to thin out. The travelers found themselves able to see across the marsh for quite some distance. In the absence of overbearing cypress and mahogany, they saw that sedges, reeds, and other grasses dominated the landscape, stretching southward toward the horizon.

“The Karrakas Delta.” Lieutenant Naike wore an expression of satisfaction. “This is the way we came in.” He looked back toward the tree line. “It will be harder out here in the open for anyone to sneak up on us.”

“I think it's over this way, sir.” Karaukul was pointing to his right.

“What's over that way?” Pivver asked as the princesses splashed along in the mongooses' wake. In addition to leaving behind the trees, they were also abandoning dry land. Mudge and Jon-Tom brought up the rear, still leery of possible pursuit. The otter was ever suspicious of good fortune.

Under Naike's direction the soldiers were energetically dismantling what appeared to be a grassy knoll. It wasn't long before the outlines of a shallow-draft, flat-bottomed boat became visible. Jon-Tom no longer had to wonder how the chosen of Harakun had made their way across the vast marshland.

As he watched, they quickly stepped the single square mast into a slot in the deck and secured it in place. There were bench seats fore and aft and oarlocks for four sweeps. A simple rudder hung from the stern.

“Surely you didn't navigate this bleedin' shingle all the way from Harakun?” was Mudge's comment when the entire craft was finally fully revealed.

Naike gestured politely. “We purchased it in Mashupro, oceangoing vessels being useless in the marsh. It served us well enough.”

“The four o' you, aye.” The otter studied the simple vessel dubiously. “There's twelve o' us now.”

Ansibette grasped the bow, teetering prettily on the spongy, unstable ground. “It will be awfully crowded.”

“We shall manage.” Back on at least partly familiar territory now, the Lieutenant oozed confidence. “It's a solid little craft, intended for ferrying cargo. Finding space for everyone will require some planning, but it will not sink under us.”

“You only need to make room for ten, not twelve,” Jon-Tom told him.

The Lieutenant and several of the princesses turned to him in surprise.

“You are not coming with uss?” murmured Seshenshe.

Jon-Tom gestured toward the chord cloud. It was drifting off to the southwest instead of the south, then racing back to spiral around him and chime insistently before repeating the motion. It was a pattern he and Mudge had come to know well.

“We follow the music,” he explained.

“But you cannot do that.” Naike was insistent.

“Can't we not, guv?” Mudge was testing the soil before him.

“How will you cross the marsh without a boat?” Several small amphibians had taken up residence in the craft's bow and Naike was gently returning them to the murky water.

Mudge put an arm around the spellsinger's waist. “Me mate 'ere an' I 'ave crossed country both wet and dry, country you lot can't begin to imagine. Country wot makes this 'ere bit o' bog look like the Polastrindu parade grounds on a celebration day. We'll arrange ourselves a raft or find another way through. We always do.”

The Lieutenant walked over to them and lowered his voice, speaking now with the stealthiness so natural to his kind. “That is not what I mean. You cannot leave my soldiers and I to deal with these half dozen princesses. It would be difficult enough to cope with the presence and exigencies of Her Highness Aleaukauna. Add to her needs those of five equally demanding sisters and the situation becomes … how shall I say it… untenable.”

“Oi, that's a bleedin' shame, that is,” Mudge replied cheerfully. “Also one that ain't our responsibility. 'Tis a bit o' music we're followin', we are. Not a cloud o' bleedin' perfume.” He waved at the softly ringing, faintly pink fog in question. It swirled lightly about his fingers before again darting insistently southwestward.

Naike straightened and his tone became formal. “I am an officer of Harakun, a soldier of the Imperial Guard. If need be, ten enemies would I face alone to defend my liege or any of her relations, or any of my troops. But there was nothing in my training or experience to prepare me for this.”

“'Ell,” quipped Mudge, “there
ain't
no trainin' for somethin' like this. You'll bloody well 'ave to learn on the job, as it were. I 'opes you survive. Meself, I'd rather face the ten armed enemies.”

The Lieutenant took a step forward and clutched Jon-Tom's shirt with both paws. His tone was pleading and his bright black eyes implored. To look at him, one would have thought him in imminent danger of undergoing the most profound sort of torture. Which was not far off the mark.

“Please, spellsinger Jon-Tom, traveler Mudge—do not leave us to chaperon these noble ladies alone.”

Jon-Tom gently disengaged himself from the mongoose's grasp. “What makes you think Mudge and I would do any better?”

“You are clearly more experienced in the ways of the world, if not those of the court. And the princesses revere you as the wizard responsible for their rescue. If there is trouble, you can always threaten them with a spell, whereas I have in my arsenal of response only feeble words.”

“On the contrary, Naike, they despise me as the wizard who's messed up their appearance.”

“There is that,” the Lieutenant conceded. “But that fades as they grow used to their new looks. Your presence would be desirable if only to give them others to talk with.”

“You mean yell at, guv,” put in Mudge.

Flicking water from her tail, Seshenshe came over to see what was causing the delay. Naike stepped aside.

“The spellsinger and his companion, m'lady, will not be making the journey with us to Mashupro.”

The lynx's eyes widened as she regarded Jon-Tom. “What do you mean, you won't be coming with uss?”

“Yes, what's this all about?” Umagi ambled over through the reeds, muscles rippling beneath her shoulders.

Jon-Tom found himself facing a semicircle of princesses, all clamoring for his attention.

“i can't believe you intend abandoning us,” whispered Quiquell.

“Yes.” Ansibette pouted sumptuously. “Aren't you going to help us get out of this terrible place?”

“Ain't so terrible,” Mudge grumbled. “Just a mite damp, is all.”

“Our situation's not so simple.” Jon-Tom struggled to hold on to what ground remained to him. “There are six of you. That means traveling to six different kingdoms that may lie great distances apart. My friend and I have business of our own to attend to, and loved ones awaiting our return. So much journeying would delay us unconscionably.”

“Oi, you tell 'em, mate.” Mudge made sure to keep Jon-Tom's bulk between himself and the angry princesses.

Aleaukauna pushed forward. “No
honorable
sorcerer would forsake a lady in such a place.”

“And besides”—Pivver was fingering the whorls and chevrons shaved into her fur—“you owe us for what you've done to us.”

“The cosmetic changes will fade, the piercings heal, the fur grow back,” he reminded them.

“We've no guarantee of that,” said Seshenshe softly. “Your continued pressence among uss iss the only reassurance we have of being returned to normal.”

“Let us compromise.” Everyone turned to Aleaukauna. She gestured in the direction of the boat, where the four other mongooses busied themselves readying it for travel while resolutely ignoring the noisy confrontation taking place behind them. “Accompany us only as far as Harakun, spellsinger. From there my family can provide individual escorts for each of my sisters, and you can resume your journey having detoured to only a single kingdom.”

The princesses discussed the suggestion and found it acceptable. As for Jon-Tom, he wasn't quite ready to give in.

“How far is Harakun?”

“Not that far.” Naike had bravely rejoined him.

Mudge squinted perceptively at the Lieutenant. “An' just 'ow far, guv, might ‘not that far' be?”

The mongoose's long snout quivered. “You know, river-runner. Not that far.”

The otter wasn't satisfied. “Is it only me, mate, or is there a gap in communications 'ere?”

Ansibette slipped between them. “Accompany us at least to this town of Mashupro, where we can secure transport across the Farraglean to the distant shores of our home. We can discuss this matter further once we've arrived there. If Lieutenant Naike is satisfied with the ship and crew we engage, then perhaps you and your friend can leave us there.”

“I suppose we could do at least that much.” Jon-Tom lost himself in her eyes, which, given the multitude of optional locations, was probably the least dangerous place for them to be. “We'd probably end up in Mashupro anyway.”

Mudge gestured at the drifting, urgently chiming chords. “The music, mate. Wot about the music?”

“Music?” He blinked, breaking her stare, only to find himself encountering Naike's beseeching gaze. To protect himself, he concentrated on the Lieutenant. “This Mashupro—is it really the major port at the end of the delta?”

“Not only the major, but as far as we could determine it is the only one,” Naike replied helpfully.

Nodding, Jon-Tom looked back down at Mudge. “The music can wait awhile.”

A ripe stream of inventive invective flowed from the otter's lips. “Oi, but can we? A long journey in a small boat full to overflowin' with gabblin', spoiled females, each wantin' 'er own dollop o' personal attention. I didn't come all this way for that, mate. We owe these royal ramblers not a thing, nor their un'appy cavalry, either.”

“Where's your spirit of gallantry, Mudge?”

“Wot,
that
old thing?” The otter uttered something choice. Ansibette blushed, while Quiquell inhaled sharply. Even Pivver's eyes dilated. “I believe I 'ad it exorcised a few years back.”

“If the Lieutenant is right and the music leads us all the way down to the ocean, we'll have to find transportation in this Mashupro anyway. Unless you want me to try and spell-sing up a boat. Or have you forgotten what happened the last time I did that?”

Mudge hadn't. “You managed the boat, all right, but spent most o' the voyage stone drunk.”
*

“An experience I have no wish to repeat.” The spellsinger was adamant. “I'd much rather try to hire a craft. Besides, for all we know, this kingdom of Harakun lies in the general direction the music is taking us.”

“As always, you rationalize well, mate.” The otter grimaced as he eyed the flat-bottomed boat. “'Tis goin' to be one flavorful journey.”

“I'm not unaware of the potential for discomfort,” his friend assured him. “Our patience will be tested to the limit.”

“Your patience, mate. Meself, I never 'ad any to test.”

“I have confidence in you, Mudge.” Pivver stepped forward and put a reassuring paw on the other otter's shoulder. Mudge's expression changed abruptly, and not necessarily for the better, Jon-Tom thought. But at least there were no more objections. He turned back to the others.

“It's settled. We'll accompany you as far as Mashupro, and then we'll see.” He gestured in the direction of the swirling cloud of notes. “It all depends on whether we can stay with the music.”

“Excellent!” exclaimed Aleaukauna.

“No one is going anywhere unless we can get this craft in the water.” Naike nodded at the boat. “The tide is down and it's solidly beached.”

When the four straining soldiers proved unable to move the craft, Mudge stripped down to his fur and plunged in, as did Jon-Tom. Pivver joined them soon after, daintily placing her discarded attire on one of the boat's bench seats.

After several moments of wrestling with the stern, she turned to Mudge, treading water effortlessly. “You know, it would probably be of greater benefit to the overall effort if you would put your hands on the wood and push instead of on me.”

“Sorry, Your Highboraness. Just tryin' to find some better leverage.”

“I'm sure you are.” Her eyebrows rose. “However, in this instance that needs to be applied to the boat and not to my person.”

“Sorry.” Visibly miffed, he moved away from her. She strained against the sodden bulk a moment longer before her attitude softened slightly.

“We are going to be companions for some time. Given our circumstances, I see no need for you to refer to me as ‘Highness' or by any other title. Informality being the order of the day, you may call me Lintania ler Culowyn aleyy Astrevian Pivver es Trenku.”

“Formality strikes me as simpler.” He spat out a mouthful of water plant. “'Ow's about we say ‘Pivver' an' leave it at that? Me name you already knows.”

“Your name, yes, as well as that of your mate Weegee and your twinned offspring Nocter and Squill.”

Mudge's gaze narrowed slightly as he strained to find footing in the mud. “Who told you that?”

“Why, your good friend the tall human.”

“'E would, the smiley son-of-a-simian.” Raising his voice, the otter shouted toward the front of the boat. “Oi, mate! Put your great sloppy weight into it, will you?”