The Unclean leader seemed as stunned as Hiero by this appearance. It was a second before he could gather his wits. His glance darted about as he sought for other enemies, it seemed impossible that one ancient had come alone into his power, as if out of thin air.
“What are you doing here, Elevener?” he demanded. “Are you mad to come between me and my prey? Even your bands of crazy sentimentalists know what we can do to those who oppose us!”
Elevener! Of course! Hiero thought. One of the Brotherhood of the Eleventh Commandment. But what was he doing here? Was he indeed mad, to thrust himself into his enemies’ power? A thousand questions jostled in his mind.
But the old man was speaking again. “Servant of evil, you and your brute horde are summoned to depart. Go at once and cease molesting these wanderers, two-legged and four. I, Brother Aldo, tell you so, on penalty of your immediate death.”
This was too much for S’carn. Indeed, Hiero himself was becoming sure the old fellow had lost his wits. To threaten a huge ship full of devil’s weapons. Leemutes, and Unclean warriors, while sitting alone and unarmed in a canoe was certainly madness at its peak.
“We are favored by fortune, dotard, for we have you in our net as well as these. Cease your senile maunderings and approach at once to surrender, lest I lose my patience.”
Brother Aldo, as he styled himself, rose and stood erect in his canoe. He revealed himself as being very tall and lean; despite his age, he balanced easily.
“We slay no one gladly, child of the Unclean, not even such as you.” His arm thrust out, forefinger extended. “For the last time, I tell you, begone, lest I loose a destruction upon you! Can you not see your allies have fled, summoned by that which rules them?”
Hiero stared in fresh amazement. It was true. As the talk had taken this new turn with the sudden appearance of the old Elevener, the frog Leemutes were gone! Stealthily, silently, their living ring of bodies had vanished. Not a reed boat or leprous white shape remained. The black ship and the tiny canoe, a hundred yards separating them, were alone on the blue, dancing surface of the lagoon-Even S’carn seemed taken aback. His crew, too, began to mutter audibly, and one of the Howlers let out a piercing wail. But the adept still ruled.
“Silence, you chattering cowards! And as for you, you old troublemaker, enough of your lies and Elevener gibberish! Approach and surrender or I will slay you!” Yet a new, sudden fear showed in his ivory face, despite every effort to control it. The old man had frightened him. Brother Aldo dropped his hand, and an expression of sadness crossed his dark, lined face. “So be it. The One knows that I do this unwillingly.” With that he sat down quickly in the canoe and raised his paddle.
And the black ship rose in the air!
Rose up, held in the pointed jaws of a fish of such bulk that it dwarfed the imagination. The thing’s gleaming, ivory teeth, Hiero saw in numb fascination, were each as long as his own body! Not a sound came from the crew. It was too quick.
For one second the ship hung ten spans above the heaving, foaming surface; then the incredible monster shook its vast head once and the big vessel simply broke in half. As the two fragments struck the surface, the leviathan vanished in a boil of water. From out of this, there emerged a forked tail easily a hundred feet across! With a smash that almost pierced the eardrums, it came down on the lagoon squarely on top of the broken pieces of the Unclean ship and the surviving men and Leemutes who now struggled and screamed in the water.
Brace yourselves; hold Klootz’s legs, Hiero sent, seeing what was coming. A great wave rushed up the islet’s beach, and in an instant the two humans and the bear were waist-deep in the surging water. The priest’s warning had come in the nick of time, for the big morse held firm and they with him. Gorm had flung his strong forepaws around a leg as well, and Hiero had held on to both a leg and Luchare.
The water raced back as swiftly as it had come, and the travelers stared out at the transformed lagoon. There was a long smear of oil, a growing slick, and vast rings of racing, foaming ripples, all coming from the place where the Unclean ship had been. Of the ship and its sinister crew, nothing remained. In less than thirty seconds they had been totally obliterated, as if they had never been. Only the small canoe, now half-full of water, lay rocking on the surging water a few hundred feet away, its solitary occupant staring sadly at the fouled area of lagoon.
Hiero let go of Luchare and strode down through the soggy grass and shrubbery to the water’s edge. As he reached it, he saw the canoe shooting in toward him, propelled by vigorous strokes of the paddle. In an instant its prow grated on the sand and its tall occupant stepped onto the beach, his vigorous movements belying his apparent age.
The two men stared at each other in appraisal. Hiero looked up at a face so strong and yet so calm that it seemed to have grown almost beyond what could be called human. The very dark brown, almost black, skin was lined by a thousand wrinkles, yet the skin itself was clear and healthy. The broad snub nose surmounted a sweeping, curly mustache which merged into the white beard imperceptibly. The frizzy white locks fell evenly to the old man’s shoulders and were neatly combed.
But the eyes were the clue to the whole countenance. Black as night, dancing with light, they seemed to bubble with humor and yet to be grave as a granite monument at one and the same time. They were eyes which loved life, which had seen everything, examined everything, and were still searching for, and finding, new things to examine. In them could be read great age and wisdom and also the gusto and joy of healthy youth.
Hiero was won over on the instant. He extended his right hand, and a long, lean hand met it in a grip as firm as his own, met it and held it.
“Per Desteen, I believe, of the Kandan Universal Church,” the deep voice said. “A man currently much sought for, by many sorts of people, for good and ill.”
With a shock, Hiero realized that Brother Aldo was speaking Metz, fluently and with no accent at all. Before he could say anything, the old man smiled sheepishly.
“Showing off again, Per Desteen. I used to be good at languages and I learned all I could long ago. And whom have we here?” He turned and gave Luchare a stare as frank as that he had given her lover.
She smiled and held out her hand. “You have killed our enemies. Father, and we thank you for saving us.”
“Yes, princess of D’alwah, I had to kill.” He sighed, taking her extended hand in his own left, for he still kept Hiero’s in his right. He ignored the girl’s gasp at his knowledge of her.
“Killing is sometimes necessary,” he went on in the same batwah, now looking keenly at both of them. “But it ought never to be a pleasure. We do not need to kill for food each day, as do the lower animals. A burden on my mind, all those souls, weary with vice and evil though they were.” He released their hands.
“We have much to talk of, we three. Or rather, 1 should say, we four.” Greeting, friend, came the thought directed at Gorm, who had ambled up and now sat gazing at the old man.
Greeting, Old One, the bear brain answered. We have much to thank you for. A debt is incurred. It will be repaid.
If you feel so, a debt there is, was the courteous reply. Now let us speak to one another. l am, as the two humans have heard, Brother Aldo, an Elder, albeit humble, of the Brotherhood of the Eleventh Commandment. I was sent to find you, if I could, and bring you to a place of safety.
Why? It was Luchare who asked, her thought pattern ragged, but quite intelligible, evidence of her increasing confidence.