"ananthos... i do not know the name. a common river
guard, you say?"
"Yes. He's the one who brought us here."
"a common river guard of uncommon discernment, then.
but still, it should be someone of higher rank."
"Please, Oil," Jon-Tom said, "rank will mean nothing to
these Ironclouders if what you say of their nature is correct.
And Ananthos is familiar with us. We know we can get along
with one another."
"a sound recommendation, i suppose." She sighed and
that whole globular black mass quivered, "it is the common
soldiers who will decide this battle to come, as they do all
such battles, perhaps it is fitting that one of their rank be our
ambassador, as you say, it will likely not matter to the
ironclouders.
"very well. you may have this ananthos. he will go with
you as would one of my own children, uzmentap!"
176
THE HOUR Of THE GATE
"yes my lady, yes my lady?" A tiny adult spider scurried
into the chamber, the same one who had admitted them a
little while earlier.
"put out the word to all the ends of the scuttleteau, to the
uppermost flanks of the mountains and the bottoms of the
rivers, to all the believers in the weave and to all who would
defend their webs against the plated folk, that a temporary
alliance has been struck with the people of the warmlands to
help them drive the plated beasts back into their putrid hole of
a homeland once and for all!"
"it shall be done, my lady," said the herald quickly. She
dismissed him with a wave of one leg and he hurried away to
do the bidding.
"we will move as soon as we have word from your
messenger ananthos," she told them. "we will go hopefully
with a known route and will try our best if none such is
available, but i will not send the best of the weave over the
high snows to a cold death."
"We know that," said Clothahump gratefully. "You can't
be expected to sacrifice yourselves to no purpose. But don't
worry. We'll convince these people to show us a way."
Jon-Tom did not think it a judicial time to mention the
possibility that such a path might not exist.
"it is in your claws now. i will have this ananthos found
and will give him my personal instructions and the scarf of
ambassadorial rank. will you require an escort?"
"We've gotten this far on our own," Talea pointed out.
"From what you say these Ironclouders aren't hostile, just
stubborn." She patted the sword at her hip. "We can take
care of ourselves."
"i did not mean to imply otherwise, i will see that you are
well supplied with food and—" She broke off at the twisted
expression on Flor's face, one that was sufficiently intense
and abrupt to transcend interspecies differences, "perhaps
'*" 177
Alan Dean Foster
you had best see to your own provisioning, at that. list what
you wish and i will see it is provided, i had forgotten for a
moment that you partake of nourishment in a fashion some-
what different from ours."
"Our marital habits are a little different, too." Jon-Tom
glanced significantly toward the bejeweled boudoir.
"so i have heard, honor is a strange thing, sometimes it is
better to die happy and honored than to live miserably and
unrespected. and you do not consider the effects such repeat-
ed matings have on my own mind. a burdensome thing, i am
not permitted a lifetime of happiness but instead short periods
followed by regretful melancholy, tradition must be upheld,
however." She waved a leg magnanimously.
"all that is required will be provided, i only hope that we
have sufficient time to prepare and that we are granted a path
by which to proceed."
"We are most grateful," said Clothahump, bowing slightly.
"You are a Grand Webmistress indeed."
"it is no compliment to say that one can see the truth."
She waved several legs. "good fortune to you, newfound
friends."
The visitors began to file out of the chamber. Jon-Tom go
halfway to the portal, then turned and walked back to her.
"the audience is at an end," Oil told him somewhat less
than politely.
"I'm sorry. But I have to know something. Then I'll leav<
you to your privacy."
Fathomless eyes regarded him quietly, "ask then."
"Why did you single me out to talk with, instead o
Clothahump or Caz or one of the others?"
"why? oh, because of your delightful and inspiring selec
tion of garb. it marks you clearly as a superior being to your
companions, wizardly talents notwithstanding."
Turning, she walked rhythmically back to stand below the
178
THE HOUR OF THE GATE
royal bower. Reattaching fresh silk to the dangling cable, she
promptly climbed up and disappeared behind the barrier of
gems and silken embroidery.
Jon-Tom was left to consider his bright black leathern
pants, the matching boots and dark shirt.
It was only much later, as they were departing Gossameringue
with Ananthos in the lead, that Jon-Tom had the startling and
unsettling thought that the Grand Webmistress might have
been considering him as material for something besides
conversation....
179
XI
It was terrible in the mountains.
Higher peaks towered to east and west, but as they moved
south they were traversing the wmdswept flanks of Zaryt's
Teeth, where they merged with the lower but still impres-
sive mountains from which the greater heights sprang. It
was bitingly cold. Soon they were walking not on rock or
earth but on snow so dry and fresh it crunched like sugar
underfoot.
On the third day after leaving the Scuttleteau and its gentle
rivers and warm forests they encountered snow flumes. The
day after that they were stumbling through a modest blizzard.
Oil's fears that the southern range might prove unnegotiable
seemed well founded.
Mudge and Caz suffered least of all, in contrast to their
companions who did not enjoy the benefits of a personal far
coat.
181
Alan Dean Poster
Everyone profited from the example set by the stoic
Bribbens. Though highly susceptible to the cold he trudged
patiently along, silent and uncomplaining. Oftentimes his
bulbous eyes were all that could be seen outside the thick
clothing the Weavers had provided. He kept his discom-
forts to himself, and so his companions were shamed into
doing the same.
Working with only rumor and supposition, the least reliable
of guides, Ananthos somehow managed to pick a path
southward.
They had made little progress in five days of hard marching
when Jon-Tom had his idea. A temporary camp was estab-
lished in the shelter of a small cave. Jon-Tom and Plor led the
others in the hunt for suitable saplings and green vines. These
were then woven together with spider silk dispensed by
Ananthos.
With the aid of the new snowshoes their pace improved
considerably. So did their spirits, boosted not only by their
improved method of travel but by the hysterical image Ananthos
presented as he shuffled along on six of the carefully wrought
shoes, picking his way as uncertainly and carefully as a water
sender trying to cross a pool of mud.
They also improved Bribbens' morale. While they kept him
no warmer, the enormous shoes on his webbed feet gave him
tremendous stability.
Jon-Tom moved up to march alongside Ananthos. It was
the morning of their eighth day in the mountains.
"Could we have missed it?" His breath made a cloud in