"A genuine Wintermantel?" the new blade's owner asked, her anger fading as she saw the quality of her knife. "Really?" "Yes." Rickli was dumfounded. His edge should have damaged the other.
As the sailors drifted away, talking excitedly of further trades, Hakim said, "You may get an answer to the question you asked the other night." He didn't apologize for damaging the Wintermantel. He seemed terribly upset.
Rickli let it ride till they were comfortably back aboard, observing ship and Ship from the captain's station. The Earthman stared into the distance and caressed his
"What is it, Thomas? What's wrong?"
"I'm not sure. The knife. The finish on that hull. The glass-topped buildings. But especially the knife."
"Why? It was a good one."
"Exactly. Too good, Rickli. I don't care what the augurs have been doing, they couldn't have made that knife. That was a machined blade, an Outside blade. The question is, did it come with the Ship?" After a glance toward the strange buildings, "I'm afraid of the answer."
Rickli made the intuitive leap. "You think the augurs are in touch with your people?"
"Not mine, Rickli. Not mine."
"Ah, so. The enemy. Your Fenaja."
Hakim took the talisman from his waistband, peered down its long axis.
"Grossfenaja." One word. But still he wouldn't elaborate,
"Your enemies are mine. Twice you've honored my life."
"So it goes," Hakim murmured to himself, the ancient acceptance of fate characteristic of the Children of the Sky. "No. They're merciless. They'd destroy you all if I dragged you in. If they're really here."
Now Rickli said, "So it goes. If they're that kind of people, then they should be enemies."
"Stay out of it, Rickli. Stay out. I'll try to avoid them. Yes. That's best. If they don't know I'm here, they won't bother anybody. I'll just stay aboard till you put to sea again. I'll decide what to do when you're ready to cast off."
But the wills of Fate and the Shipwrecked Earthman weren't in concert. Shortly, Rickli said, "What's this?" indicating a group coming down the pier. "Ship augurs."
A youth ran up, announced, "Augurs Blackcraft and Homewood request permission to board, sir."
"Granted." To Thomas, "The top people. Must've heard about the Grossfenaja."
"Uhm." Hakim was not convinced. .
The augurs were old, and some disabled. The lore mastery was reserved to those no longer able to cope with the sea. Though the whole party boarded, only Blackcraft and Homewood, male and female, approached the captain's station. Both eyed the Earthman. . "Greetings," said Homewood, her voice surprisingly youthful. "It's been long since Landing was honored by Rifkins Dream.
"And longer since Dream was graced by the presence of an elder augur." Rickli decided he should try to put them on the defensive.
Their eyes kept drifting to Thomas.
"We hear some strange things have befallen in the interim." Blackcraft seemed strangely wary. "The years drift past, the ships come in, and sailors tell their tales. Some were hard to credit."
"No doubt. The young embellish with drama. A Saga grows from ordinary events." "So it goes."
"Yet these tales seemed no riging boy's daydream.,” said Homewood, looking directly at the Earthman.
"How can we judge the truth of sea stories?"
"Never mind the fencing, Rickli," said Hakim. To the augurs: "What do you want?" "You're the Shipwrecked Earthman?"
"What do you want?" "Are you the man called Thomas Hakim?"
"What do you want?" "You must come with us." "No," said Rickli. "Thomas is restricted to ship."
They were growing irritated. Blackcraft grumbled, "Captain, these are matters beyond you. And I remind you, you're no longer at sea."
"An oversight that can be corrected with a word."
"Tell your masters," said the Earthman, "that if they want me, they'll have to come see me themselves."
"Masters?"
"The: Outsiders. The Sangaree. The people who sent you here. The people who have been giving you
Outside goods in return for use of Landing. You probably think they've done well by you. But you've been cheated. Terribly. You don't know them, don't know what they are. Tell them that if they want Thomas Hakim, they'll have to meet him before the Children of the Sky. You'll learn." They could see Thomas was immoveable. Homewood bowed slightly. "So it goes." She and Blackwood rejoined their deputation. Soon one of the lesser augurs was hurrying up the pier. "'Ah." The Earthman chuckled nervously. "I was right. But I was only guessing."
"What's it all about, Thomas?" Rickli asked.
"My enemies are here. But they're not sure who I am." After a time: "You should have stayed out of it."
Rickli shrugged. "You're my friend. You were my right hand at Pimental." From the captain's equipment rack he took a shellhorn "You're one of our own now." He blew recall. Stunned silence settled over Landing. Then sea people were everywhere, running, Before the Earthman could protest, Rickli had had danger pennons run to the main and had instructed the armorer to fill the weapons racks. By ones, twos, and threes, crewmen came running aboard, battering the augurs in their haste to reach their stations.
"You're a fool, Rickli Manlove. This isn't your fight." But the Earthman wore a smile.
"Maybe. Stay out of the way till I get muster."
Other vessels, too, began readying weapons and sail. The chaos on Landing diminished as crews found their ways to their ships.
Through the confusion came a wedge of five tall men in outlandish clothing. Rickli stared. They were heavier than his people, more muscular. Even from a distance he could see that there was no humor in their faces.
"These are your enemies?" he asked.
"Some of them. Watch the little one. The one who seems the least. He's their leader, Gaab Telle. There're blood debts between us. I'll keep out of sight." He slipped down into the galley.
Rickli called his armorer.
The five came aboard as if they owned Rifkin's Dream. Their not having asked permission aggravated Rickli's predisposition to dislike them. The light one spoke with Homewood and Blackcraft, then came aft. All five had hard, dark eyes. Fenaja eyes.
"Where is he?" Telle asked. He glanced speculatively at Rickli's stump.
Quiet as death, with an expression as grim, Thomas slipped from the galley, his talisman in hand. He nodded.