“Still no sign of pursuit.” Hunnar reached out to tighten a loose stay. “Can your sky people devices track a fleeing vessel even through a wyrsta?”
“Depends on what instruments are being used,” Ethan told him. “I think the ice might scatter high-res radar and I don’t know what it might do with infrared. I’m starting to think that we just might pull this off.”
“If we can find the spot where we brought the Slanderscree across the equatorial ice ridge, and if we can pull, push, or otherwise cajole this windboat back the same way,” September reminded him.
Ethan’s expression fell. “I’d forgotten about that.”
“Do not worry,” said Williams, trying to bolster his spirits. “We’ll find the place again and we’ll get across if we have to carry the boat on her backs. In any event the exertion will help to keep us warm.”
“I’d prefer an induction heater,” Ethan muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.
They managed the crossings—though Ethan was convinced his back would break and his legs give out—just as they made it all the way back to the wide, welcoming harbor of Poyolavomaar. Despite their exhaustion the Landgrave insisted on seeing them immediately, whereupon all adjourned to a private meeting chamber in order to avoid the stares and speculative gossip of the court. As T’hosjer T’hos listened quietly to their tale, interrupting only occasionally with a terse, pointed question, Ethan realized that fond as he was of Hunnar Redbeard, the Landgrave of Poyolavomaar was the Tran best suited to represent his world in the councils of the Commonwealth:
He was being premature, he told himself. There might yet not be anything left to represent.
When they’d finished, T’hosjer had a tray of hot drinks brought in. He watched in silence as his guests drained their goblets, the grateful humans not even bothering to inquire as to the nature of the contents. He spoke again as a servitor refilled the containers.
“I do not understand your kind, friend Ethan. What these people attempt beggars reason.”
“Don’t let it bother you.” September leaned back in his chair, held his hot goblet against his forehead and put his feet up on an exquisitely carved table. “We humans have been puttering around with intelligence for about ten millennia now and we don’t understand ourselves either.”
“But why do such a thing? Why condemn tens of thousands of innocent cubs and elders to death? We would be pleased to share our world with any of your kind who would like to live among us.”
September wagged a sardonic finger at the young Landgrave. “Ah, but in that case you’d have to be paid. Commonwealth law requires it.”
“Whenever sentient beings are regarded as nothing more than statistics affecting a profit and loss column, morality is the first casualty of the final reckoning,” Williams solemnly declared.
“Clearly these people have to be stopped and an end put to their evil enterprise.” T’hosjer spoke quietly, thoughtfully. “But how can this be done if they possess the magical light weapons you have spoken of?”
“We’re hoping they had only one of the most powerful kind of light weapon, and we saw that vanish in the belly of something you wouldn’t describe in detail at a polite supper.” September handed his own hand beamer to the fascinated Landgrave. “If all they have left are more of these then we have a chance. Not to defeat them, but to keep them occupied until serious help can arrive from Brass Monkey.”
Ethan nodded. “Milliken will return and confront the Resident Commissioner, explain what’s going on, and see if we can’t have a peaceforcer ship sent from the nearest base to shut these people and their operation down permanently.” He glanced at the teacher. “He’s better at explanations, and Skua and I are better at fighting.”
“The fastest ship in Poyolavomaar will whisk your scholar back to your outpost to give the alarm,” T’hosjer assured them as he rose. “Nor will you brave friends be returning alone. I will mobilize the fleet. But it will take time.”
“It will cheer those we left behind just to know you are coming,” Hunnar assured him.
“Begging your pardon,” said Williams, “and I don’t mean to denigrate your generous offer, sir, but I don’t think that’s a very good idea.” Everyone stared at him.
“If we return alone, we might be able to sneak back into the harbor and aboard the Slanderscree without alerting anyone. If we arrive with the whole Poyolavomaar navy in tow, Bamaputra will know we got at least this far. He’ll be forced to attack if only to find out what’s going on. I suggest we allow them to believe we perished along with their missing skimmer. That way they won’t be tempted to throw everything they’ve got at us in an attempt to take the ship. Let them continue believing they’ve achieved no worse than a stalemate. It will save a lot of lives.”
September looked excited. “It’ll do more than that, by damn. If they see us limp back to the Slanderscree, the first thing they’ll think is that we didn’t make it anywhere. Otherwise why return? We’re not going to be giving any interviews and they won’t have had the chance—unless they’ve managed to take the ship, which I doubt—to count heads except through monoculars from a distance. Six leave, five come back. I think, we can fool ’em.” He turned back to T’hosjer.
“How long for your best ship to make it to Brass Monkey and back?”
The Landgrave discussed figures with Williams, who transposed to metrics. The results left Ethan nodding with satisfaction.
“Not as bad as I thought it would be. Meanwhile, sir, if it pleases you to alert your forces, then do so. We don’t know how Bamaputra will react to our return and you ought to be ready to defend yourselves if nothing else.”
“Then all is settled.” They rose to leave.
September stepped in front of the teacher. He towered over most men; Williams he dwarfed completely.
“You’re going to be all alone for a bit, my friend. Just you and the Tran.”
The smaller man smiled up at him. “I do not feel uncomfortable among the Tran. We’ve lived with them for nearly two years now. As for human companionship, I’ve spent much of my life living within myself. I’ll be okay.”
“Well, don’t waste time, and don’t stop to ogle the scenery.”
“I intend to stop for nothing.”
The three of them had been together for so long it felt unnatural to be standing on the end of a dock waving farewell to Williams. That was what Ethan and September found themselves doing the following morning as the sleek, narrow-hulled ice ship crewed by the best sailors in Poyolavomaar pulled out of the harbor heading north. Not that either man held any illusions regarding something as archaic as Three Musketeership. They’d been thrown together on this world by accident and kept together by circumstance instead of by choice. But the teacher had been a boon companion; soft-spoken, sensible, and silent unless he had something worthwhile to add to a conversation. They would miss his good counsel.
Skua September was anxious to head back to Yingyapin. His eagerness was matched by Hunnar’s, who though he would not admit it aloud was obviously frantic to be with his Elfa once more. Ethan assured the knight that even if their adversaries had somehow managed to regain control of the Slanderscree, they weren’t likely to engage in a massacre of the escapees.
By mutual consent no one discussed what they would do if for some reason Williams didn’t make it back to the outpost. Tran-ky-ky posed plenty of problems for long distance travelers without opposition from the likes of renegade humans. Stavanzers, wandering barbarians, drooms, storms of varying suddenness and awesome power—any one of these could obliterate a ship and its crew. T’hosjer tried to get them to relax. Williams was traveling on the best ice ship this part of the planet had to offer, assisted and watched over by the finest crew an ice-going city-state could put together. He would make it back to Brass Monkey healthy and ahead of time.