Boat, rushes, slow water, and hot mist were all that could be seen or heard of the world. The solitude and peace were unbelievable.
Sulun sat up and rubbed kinks out of his back, wondering what he should do next. There seemed to be no reason for activity; food, water, warmth, and safety were here in abundance, and the war might as well have been on the far side of the moon. For the first time in more moons than he could remember, Sulun had no pressing duties. He felt as light-headed as a pearl diver coming up from too long in the depths.
"What time is it?" he asked Doshi, simply for need of something to say.
"Midafternoon." The youth shrugged. "The fog won't lift today. Nothing much to do but rest, fish, hunt ducks—and shovel up after these damned mules."
Sulun nodded acknowledgment more than understanding, and went to sit beside Omis. After a moment the blacksmith looked up, smiled, and handed Sulun a newly made reed fishing pole. The string, Sulun noted, was some of the heavier thread that Vari had squirreled away moons ago, and the hook was one of the lot Omis had cast from brass scraps a few days before. He looked about for some bait, and Omis obligingly handed him a fat caterpillar from a small basketful. Sulun shrugged, stuck the caterpillar on the hook, and dropped it overside. Why not fish? he thought, bemused. One quarter hour's walk downstream a city is dying, but that no longer has anything to do with me.
As if it were a gods sign of approval, the line promptly tugged with a snagged fish. Sulun smiled to himself, gave the line the proper jerk to set the hook, and began hauling in his prize.
Ziya, Arizun, and Yanados came back a little before sundown, carrying a good bag of ducks, grebes, and a single, good-sized goose. Vari made a fire in a large pot set on a flat stone on the deck, and a good assortment of filleted fish toasted on a grill above it. The birds and the other fish were carefully skinned, gutted, patted with salt, and set to dry in the smoky air above the cookfire.
Dinner was slow and leisurely, as pleasant a feast as any Sulun could remember, though the conversation afterward turned to serious matters.
"Should we smother that fire once it's dark?" Omis asked, wiping grease off his mouth. "Or can't it be seen from the east bank?"
"No one will see a potful of coals," Vari said. "And we'll need some heat when the night chill comes."
"We shouldn't sleep then, but sail on," Yanados recommended. "Now, should we turn a ways down one of the other forks and hide here in this lovely delta for a few days more? Or should we press on northward as soon as we can?"
"How much food do we have stored?" Zeren countered. "There seems to be plenty here. The gods know when we'll get more, once we draw close to the Ancar holdings."
"Hmm . . ." Vari surveyed the day's catch. "Another day like this, and we'll have enough to last us half a moon, do we eat lightly."
"Then I'm for staying another day at least."
"But consider," Eloti added, "that soon enough the delta will be filling with refugees from the city, also hunting food. The gods know when the Ancar will come, but I doubt they'll wait long."
"Upriver, up the Dawnstream as I recall . . ." Doshi furrowed his brow, searching for old memories. "We'll find fewer reed beds and less mist, even in this weather. The river's wide, but we'll have to go hastily to escape the Ancar."
"They're no sailors," Yanados sneered, spitting a bone into the water.
"But they've long-reaching bows," Zeren reminded her. "We'll want to pass them by in darkness, quietly as may be."
"How will we keep the mules quiet?" Doshi asked, throwing a nervous glance toward the drowsing beasts.
"Put nosebags full of grain on their heads." Eloti smiled. "A mule would rather eat than bray, so long as he's not hurt."
"The hard part will be passing Lutegh," Zeren considered. "We'll have to plan our passage carefully to come by there in the dark."
"We've a long stretch yet between here and there," Eloti said. "Even after we leave the delta, there'll be reeds and mists aplenty. Time enough for planning when we reach the Mother Stone on the west bank. Lutegh will then be half a day's sail upstream."
The others stared at her in surprise. "You know these waters, then?" Arizun piped up. "You've sailed here before?"
"Oh, yes, many times." Eloti nibbled delicately at a fish fillet. "Still, I would recommend leaving this delightful spot before the wine gives out. The water's unwholesome to drink unless well boiled, and there's a shortage of firewood hereabouts."
The others looked at each other, shrugged, and resumed eating. Without discussion, they understood that Lady Eloti would tell them more when she chose to, and no sooner.
They spent a second day on the delta, catching more fish and birds, smoking the meat over dried reed fires. The third day brought the distant sound of drums through the mist, though from what direction no one could properly tell. They took the sound for an omen, set the sails at evening, and drove upriver on the night wind from the sea.
Once the boat was under way, Yanados became master. She held the sweep, ordered sail adjustments, suggested load shiftings, and the others hastened to obey. Zeren remarked on the phenomenon of shifting command as he, Sulun, and Omis sat huddled around the firepot warming their hands and some herbal tea.
"Not so surprising," Sulun replied. "Omis and I often took turns being master of the shop, depending upon what work was done and who had most experience and knowledge therewith. Likewise, Yanados knows sailing better than any of us; therefore, when the ship sails, she commands."
"And when the ship is still? Who commands then?"
Sulun scratched at his scruffy growth of beard. He'd neglected to shave lately, saving the soap for more pressing needs. Should he continue to let it grow? "The question hasn't really come up," he said. "I suppose Vari rules on matters of food, which are not to be belittled. In knowledge of the river, the Lady appears to have the last word." He glanced to the little shelter of blankets hung from the wagon that Eloti and Vari had set up as a sleeping place for themselves and the children. "On matters of warfare, I suppose you'd be the authority, Zeren."
"On matters of craftsmanship, we've nothing to do." Omis nudged Sulun with an elbow and a wry grin. "Still, our mannerly apprentices treat us as if we still had some wisdom to impart."
"Wait till we're on land and can set up our tools again," Sulun said, smiling back. "Then our apprentices' obedience will be more than mere courtesy. How is the bombard, by the way?"
"The inside needs more polishing, never mind the outside." Omis shrugged. "And we've yet to drill the fuse hole. And where could we test it?"
"Doubtless we'll find some empty land, where the Ancar have passed."
"Unbelievable," Zeren muttered, casting a long glance over the boat and its inhabitants. "Such excellent logic, such a sensible method of rule. Yet no army has ever run thus, nor city, nor kingdom, nor empire. What manner of world would it be, did they so?"
"A more efficient one, at any rate," said Eloti, padding silently up to the fire. "I think the coals could do with some more dried reeds. Friend Zeren, is the tea ready?"
"I think so." Zeren dipped a cup of the infusion for Eloti, and one for himself. He seemed to have forgotten that the other two existed.
Omis and Sulun looked at each other, smiled, and doled out cups for themselves.
The boat worked steadily upriver, and dawn found her safely hidden in another bed of reeds.
The crew slept until late afternoon, waking to find the sky dangerously cool and clear. They scanned the visible western bank nervously while they fished and smoked their catches over the dried reed fire, but no sign of humanity appeared. Still, everyone remained subdued and quiet, even the mules. They ate dinner early, intending to sail on again after dark.