At last they turned away from the shore, up a broad valley that offered good grazing. Scouts rode on ahead to the pass visible at the upper end of the valley, to explore the country beyond.
The valley might have been a proper new homeland, but there were two things wrong with it. First, it was too low. The water had only to rise a few more feet and the river that flowed down the valley would back up and spread across most of the land where drends might graze and crops grow. The rest of the land would become exposed to the attacks of the sea reptiles.
Second, the valley was already the home of people who had no intention of giving it up to the Kargoi. The sides of the valley were covered with thick forests and the valley people hid in those forests by day. By night they slipped out and shot arrows into the Kargoi and their beasts from impossibly long ranges. The Kargoi could not hope to meet this sort of guerrilla warfare for a decade or a generation. So even those most weary of traveling had to admit that the journey wasn't over yet.
Adroon's journey was another matter. By the time the Kargoi reached the valley, it was obvious that the High Baudz was seriously ill. Inch by inch his broken leg was turning black with gangrene. There was no choice left but amputation.
The operation went well, but his sixty years and many battles had left Adroon without enough strength to survive it. He died that night, and for the first time in three generations the Kargoi had no High Baudz and no hereditary candidate for the office.
«I knew the gods were not through with us,» said Paor wearily. He sounded like a brave man with much of his courage at last beaten out of him by a series of punishing blows that had simply gone on too long. «I knew it. They thought it would be a good jest to take Adroon from us. It is a good jest, so good that the Kargoi may die of it.»
«How is this so?» asked Blade. «Surely the Kargoi see clearly that they must all follow one leader while they are on the march?»
«Yes. But every baudz sees just as clearly that he is that one leader. Each has or will have friends or kin or a whole clan who will hope to gain much when he takes up the wand of the High Baudz. Even if all the baudzi themselves were wise men, each has among his followers men who are not. There are always swords drawn in anger, blood shed, and feuds begun. Behind those feuds come factions and hatred, as inevitably as finding drend dung where the drend have passed.»
Blade shook his head. «The Kargoi should not let themselves be driven into a war among themselves by thinking too much of what has happened in the past. They should think of what may be done now so that they can march on united.»
Paor laughed sourly. «It is easy to say that, Blade. Have you done any such thinking yourself?»
«Yes. I have a suggestion. Suppose a man with no friends, no kin, no clan were to become High Baudz for the space of one year, or until the Kargoi have found a new home. Then he could step aside, and a High Baudz be chosen to guide the Kargoi for many years. The feuds and the factions would not do so much harm then.»
«I suppose that is one idea. But is there such a man as you-?» Paor broke off as his mouth dropped open and his hand rose to point a finger at Blade. «You?»
«I have no kin or clan here among the Kargoi. I have only two friends. Naula is one, and she is only a young girl. You are the other, and you are a wise man whom I trust.»
Paor shut his mouth and nodded slowly. «Yes, I can see that you are such a man as you have described. I see also that you could indeed lead as High Baudz, wisely and well.
«Yet-you have no faction, now. What will you have after a year as High Baudz? During that year you will be able to reward many. Those whom a man rewards have been known to follow him.»
«That is true,» said Blade. «I can only swear to you that out of my love for the Kargoi and my regard for my own honor, I will do no such thing.» He drew his shortsword and handed it to Paor, hilt first. «Take this sword. I swear by all that any among the Kargoi believe in that with this sword you may slay me, without a fight, if after a year as High Baudz I do not step aside. I will swear it again, before all the baudzi of the Kargoi and anyone else you may think fit to witness the oath. I can offer no more than this oath.»
«For me, the oath is enough,» said Paor, smiling and handing the sword back. «I doubt if many of the wiser baudzi will think otherwise.»
For a short time it looked as if Paor had been too optimistic. Several of the baudzi and a good many warriors cried loudly that no stranger should have the supreme honor the Kargoi could give, no matter what oaths he was willing to swear or how great the need for a High Baudz. If there was need to make someone High Baudz for a year, then surely there were any number of worthy men among the Kargoi!
These people might have won or at least dangerously delayed matters, except that their secret leaked out. Their choice for High Baudz was Rehod.
Suddenly Blade found himself with all the support he needed. Many people respected Rehod's courage, but had doubts about his wisdom and judgement. A hard-fighting hero he certainly was, but was he also a leader who could be trusted to lead the Kargoi safely into their new home without making fatal mistakes or abusing his power?
So the baudzi gathered together around Adroon's grave and chose Richard Blade to be High Baudz of the Kargoi. They listened to him swear his promised oath, swore their own oaths to follow his guidance in all matters of war, then started pouring out the kaum. The party went on all night.
Blade found himself hard at work almost from the moment of his elevation to office. The scouts who'd gone across the pass at the head of the valley started returning the next morning. Blade sat with them, heard their tales, and slowly learned what lay beyond the pass.
A day's march beyond the pass lay a wide stretch of water. It was shallow, almost a swamp in many places, but obviously connected somehow with the sea. The tides fell and rose, revealing and then swallowing up areas of ground turned to ooze, dead trees, even weed-grown buildings. Even at the lowest point of the tide, there was no way to the far side except by boat.
That far side was far indeed-a good ten miles. On the far side a range of lush green hills suggested a considerable expanse of fertile, hospitable land. But smoke columns by day and fires by night suggested a land already inhabited. To make their home among the hills or even to pass through them, the Kargoi would have to be ready to fight.
No one among the Kargoi would consider for a moment retracing their steps. The valley where they lay now had already been ruled out. The slope on the far side of the pass was too rugged and heavily forested. The new homeland, or at least the next stage of the journey, lay beyond the water. A grim and exhausting few weeks lay ahead of the Kargoi.
One of the grimmest and most exhausting times would be had simply getting across the water. The Kargoi knew how to cross rivers, and perhaps this water had once been a river, but now it was a good deal more.
The problem was not quite hopeless. The great wagons of the Kargoi were so well built that they could float like boats. Or at least they could easily be made to do so, with a little bit of patching and caulking of seams opened by the jolting and jarring of many miles of overland travel.
So much for the wagons. What about the drends? They could swim across a river, with a good deal of whipping and prodding. They could not swim ten miles.
«Perhaps we should try taming some of the sea reptiles to tow our wagons across,» said Paor with a laugh. «They do not seem much more stupid than a drend, so perhaps they can learn almost as much.»