Ahl groaned and tilted her head in agreement.
That night she went to her mother's counting porch and pried up the right stone. Gold shone in the light of the tiny lamp she carried: coins, bracelets, chains, ingots and works of art that were too badly damaged to be shown: a mounted warrior with a missing head, a luat with two missing flippers, a statue of the
Goddess in her guise of creator. The statue was hollow and had gotten crushed. Ahl could still recognize the Great One, her tools in her hands, the hammer that beat out the heavens, the axe that chopped out the earth; but it wasn't easy.
Coins would be the safest. They were least likely to be missed. She gathered two handfuls, then replaced the stone and hurried away, feeling self-disgust.
It was impossible to sleep now. Instead she went to the stable and saddled her animal. In the first light of dawn she rode to the marsh. The day was hot already; Ahl felt queasy; it wasn't a real sickness, she decided, but rather fear and shame. When she reached the witch's cabin, she found Merhit outside, crouched next to a fire, brewing a potion. "It will keep the child sleepy and quiet. I have a wicker chest to put her in. She'll be able to breathe. Did you bring the money?"
Ahl pulled it out. Merhit examined the coins, putting several off to the side.
"These are distinctive. Better to take only coins in common use. The ship will be in harbor tonight. Board after dark. By sunrise you'll be on the open ocean.
I'll hide your animal. When you are missed, your relatives will think you've run away or died in the marsh like Leweli. No one will connect you with a band of actors going south by sea."
"The innkeeper knows there are only two men in the acting company."
"Maybe two of their companions came back. Maybe they found new companions." The witch stirred her potion, looking thoughtful. "Maybe I should talk to the innkeeper. She knows I met with the actors; and your mother knows that you have been visiting me. I'm a closer neighbor than your mother or any of the matriarchs. She won't talk, if I tell her not to. But I have to say this
business of weaving plots isn't easy. I'm going back to ordinary magic as soon as you and Leweli are gone."
When the potion was cooked through and cooled, she fed a spoonful to the baby.
"Why are you doing this now?" asked Leweli.
"To make sure the dose is fight. People vary in how they respond to magic, and it's always hard to judge how much to give a baby."
Soon Dapple was asleep, lying in the green shade of the witch's arbor. She looked, Ahl thought, like a sul cub: newborn, soft and round, still covered with down. All too soon the down is lost, giving way to rough fur and scales. But for
a while such cubs have an unequaled charm.
Merhit poured the rest of the potion into jars and sealed them, pausing now and then to examine the baby. "The dose is right," she said at last. "This is a healthy sleep, neither light nor heavy. She held out a spoon made of horn, yellow and translucent. "Take this. Always use it. Give the child a spoonful when you want her to be quiet, but never more than five times a day."
"Is the potion dangerous?" Leweli asked.
"All magic is dangerous," Merhit said.
A little after noon the women set of. Leweli and Ahl rode double. Merhit, on her marsh tsin, carried Dapple in the wicker chest.
When they reached the rendezvous, the men were there with their one healthy animal, loaded with baggage now.
"Take your costumes and go down the road," Perig said. "We'll load your bags while you change."
"Not the baby," Leweli said. "It's hot already and will get hotter, l don't want her in that box."
"What are you going to do with herr" Cholkwa asked.
"Carry her till the sun goes down."
The two men looked at each other. "Very well," said Perig. "But if anyone comes, you'll have to hide in the marsh."
Leweli agreed. The two women changed clothing, Ahl binding all four of her breasts. Leweli, however, left her upper pair free and used the binding strip to make a sling for Dapple. "If she wakes, I can feed her."
They rejoined the men, and Perig said, "Another thing has occurred to me. By the time we reach Sorg Harbor, you are going to smell of milk and the baby."
"This is true," said Merhit, who was still on her tsin, watching everything.
"I also have a solution to this problem," Perig said. "Or rather, Cholkwa does."
The young man looked puzzled.
The older man smiled. "He likes perfume and always has a jar. We'll pour it over Leweli -- "
"What?" cried Cholkwa.
"When we reach the south, dear one, I'll buy you more."
Cholkwa opened his mouth.
"You can argue on the way," said Merhit. "Be careful! And be lucky!" She turned her tsin and rode off, leading Ahl's animal.
The journey to Sorg Harbor was uneventful. They met no one. Only a fool would travel through weather like this, Perig remarked. Late in the afternoon they took shelter against the heat, resting in the shadow of a half-grown atchul tree. Sister trees stood in the distance, but Ahl couldn't find the mother. Had
it fallen? Was this an omen? Would she ever see her mother again? Imagining the matriarch's fury, Ahl decided she might not want to.
At sunset the four continued on their way, trudging through the long summer dusk into a starry night. By the time they reached Sorg Harbor the buildings were dark.
They stopped. Leweli put her baby in the wicker chest and, with Ahl's help,strapped her upper breasts. The two men went off to relieve themselves. When they returned, Perig got out the perfume and dowsed Leweli.
"Too much," said Cholkwa. "You know what she smells like now."
"Like a man who sells the use of his body to other men," said Perig cheerfully.
"Better that than a mother. In the future, please remember to use the male pronoun when speaking of Leweli or Ahl. They are men now."
"With a baby in a box," said Cholkwa.
"As you say," Perig agreed in the same cheerful tone. He looked toward the women. Ahl could see starlight shining on his eyes. "You need new names. How does Lewekh sound? And Ahlin?"
"Good enough," said Ahl.
Perig led them through dark streets. A few dim lanterns shone in the harbor, aboard docked ships. One was the Taig Far Traveler. A sleepy male voice asked,
"Who?"
"The actors," said Perig.
"Come on board."
Tired and half-asleep, Ahl helped unfasten the chest. She and Leweli carried it into a cabin. A lamp hung from the ceiling; the still air stank of burning fish oil. Ahl forced open the cabin window. "It'll be better once we're under way."
"Good," said Leweli.
The men followed with bags, then left again. The tsin had to be delivered to its new owner. Ahl searched the cabin. A row of cabinets went along one wall. Inside were five hammocks, neatly rolled, and five pots of fired clay, good-sized and glazed inside. The lids fit tightly. One was clearly for urination. She could tell by the shape and the emblem drawn on the outside. She didn't know the purpose of the others.