Alan Foster - The Icerigger Trilogy

“That’s for damn sure,” Ethan growled.

Skua looked thoughtful. “Got its practical aspects besides. Hunnar there’s going to be Landgrave someday, ruler of Wannome. When everybody’s in a happy mood and celebrating would be a good time for a potential assassin to strike, but it’s tough to sneak in a weapon when you’ve nothing to hide it behind.”

“Damn shame, too. If I had one, I know who I’d use it on.”

September spread his huge hands. “Now what could I have done, feller-me-lad? Turned down the invitation to our friends’ wedding? A royal invitation at that, and what with us getting ready to leave this ball of ice once and for all. No reason for us to hang around. With Sofold and Arsudun in the north and Poyolavomaar and Moulokin in the south the Tran are pretty well on their way to breaking out of their feudal city-state cycle and establishing a planetary government. The rest of the independent states will have to join up because there’s no way they can stand against that kind of strength.”

One of the other spectators, an Arsudunian noble by the look of him, admonished them to be silent. It was disrespectful to converse during the sacred moments of the ceremony whether one be hero or commoner—or alien. Were they not conscious of the singular honor which had been bestowed upon them? Despite the presence of the human scientific outpost on the western shore of Arsudun this was the first time non-Tran had been allowed to witness the solemn, traditional rites which united male and female Tran in wedlock.

It was a delight Ethan could have forgone.

He kept quiet for Hunnar and Elfa’s sake. The business of betrothing consisted of a lot of twitching and moaning and entirely too much talk. If not for the fact that the two principals were close friends he would have declaimed his discomfort to all and sundry and damn the consequences. He tried to tell himself he wasn’t freezing, but his body wouldn’t buy it. So he concentrated instead on the more enjoyable activities which had led up to this prolonged session of discomfort: the procession through the town, the entrance into the castle, the swearing of the nobles, even the formal divestiture of garments which had taken place outside the hall, the clothing heaped into two piles between which the wedding procession had passed.

Would he truly have blasphemed if he’d kept his underwear?

He should have been grateful. What if tradition had called for the ceremony to have taken place not within the castle but out on the bare plains of Arsudun? Inside the temperature hovered close to freezing. Out on the plains it sank far below the point where water moved in comfort. Only fires in a few stone basins held back the arctic climate. One blazed not far away. Sticking his naked backside, or for that matter any portion of his anatomy, close to the hot stone would have constituted an unforgivable breach of etiquette. But he was going to have to do something soon. Shivering and goose bumps were half funny. Frostbite was not.

“I can’t take much more of this.”

“Concentrate on the ceremony, on the movements. Ain’t it beautiful?”

“What I can hear of it between my chattering teeth,” Ethan replied.

“And ain’t it great to see those two finally pledging their lives to each other?”

“Yes, yes, of course.” Maybe marrying Elfa would at last put to rest Hunnar’s groundless suspicions that she held some kind of perverse attraction for Ethan. “That warms my thoughts but not my tail.”

“Think warmth, then.”

“Easy for you to say.”

Skua eyed him reproachfully. “No it ain’t easy for me to say, feller-me-lad. I’m as cold as you are. You just ain’t trying hard enough is all. Think about something else. Think about”—he grew suddenly wistful—”think about next week when the next supply ship will arrive and we’ll be able to quit this world.”

That was something to think about, Ethan told himself. Think about returning to civilization after spending almost two years living with well-meaning alien barbarians. Think about a modern, clean, warm stateroom on a new KK-drive ship. Think even about getting back to work. Time to put adventure behind him and get on with the business of everyday life. The ordinary was long overdue.

September gestured toward the chanting elders. “I think she’s coming to a close, feller-me-lad.”

“What makes you think so?”

He pointed across the open central aisle. “See those old Tran over there? The senior ladies of the court, I believe. They’ve been standing like trees for the last thirty minutes and now they’re starting to gossip.”

September’s surmise was correct. As a final soliloquy crashed to a guttural close on a rising intonation, the assembled nobles gave out three loud shouts. Paws thrust ceilingward, they began to wave to and fro. This action caused their dan, the winglike membranes that grew from arm and sides, to move back and forth. The effect was to shower the happy couple with wind and words. Fortunately Ethan and Skua stood off to the side and so missed the brunt of the artificial gale.

The elders bowed out as the crowd surged forward to congratulate the newly joined. Hunnar raised both paws for silence.

“Newfound friends and allies: I thank you for your kindnesses and for your hospitality.” He nodded toward the elders. “I thank you also for the splendid ceremony which you have made for us.” Now he turned to face young Gorin-Volga. “Be assured that, pursuant to the new treaty made between our peoples, the citizens of Arsudun will be welcome in our home of Sofold as well as in the harbors of our fellow allies Poyolavomaar and Moulokin.” He stepped back and Elfa moved forward.

“Great times are upon us, my friends,” she began, her strong voice echoing through the hall. “Wonderful things are happening thanks to our friends the skypeople.” She gestured in the direction of the two shivering humans, and a startled Ethan fought to look as dignified as possible under the circumstances.

“We have learned that there are worlds other than our own, worlds as numerous as the city-states of Tran-ky-ky. To share in their greatest glory and power we must give up some of our ancient ways. No longer can the Tran live apart from one another, fighting to settle the simplest of differences and disagreements. We must come together in peace, for strength, so that when we join our friends the skypeople among the stars, as they assure us we must someday do, we can do this thing with our heads held high and dans spread wide. As warriors and as a people proud of what we are and not as wards of a greater state. We join together seeking parity and equality. Charity is not for Tran!”

A rousing cheer rose from the assembly and reverberated around the royal hall. Elfa and Hunnar were all but overwhelmed by hugs and embraces. To Ethan it sounded unflatteringly like feeding time at the zoo. He followed Skua as the giant used his bulk to shove his way through the crowd.

“I, too, have something to say, Sir Hunnar,” Ethan heard him ask.

“What is it, friend Skua?”

Ethan felt dwarfed by the mob of taller, wider Tran but not intimidated. He knew them too well for that. Besides, with all those furry bodies pressing close around him he began to warm up.

“It’s about our clothes.”

“Ah, in the emotion of the moment I did not think. You have lived with us for so long I sometimes forget you find our climate not to your liking. The ceremony must have been a strain for you and Ethan.” He pointed to the small mountain of clothing stacked to the right of the entryway. “I think you will find your dress there. Attire of close friends and relatives is always stacked to starboard. Come, we’ll help you.” Taking Elfa’s hand in his, he led them through the congratulatory crowd.