Eric Flint: Grantville Gazette Volume XI

Father Amancio laughed. "I know. They wash their hair with urine. It is worse in New Seville. I had forgotten what it was like. In summer a village always stinks of seal guts, unwashed Inuit and dog shit. You get used to it after awhile."

I shuddered. "Better you than me, Father."

Uutaaq pointed in my direction and jabbered away at Father Amancio, who laughed and then turned to me.

"Uutaaq says he noticed your interest in Sigoko. If you would like her for a wife, he is willing… and so is she. Or simply as a kifak, which means housekeeper, if you prefer." Father Amancio's eyes danced with amusement.

"And how would she feel when she discovered the true sex of her husband?" I asked drily.

Father Amancio waved his hand. "Not a problem, so long as you provided for her and her children." He smiled. "And so long as you followed Inuit custom and gave her permission to lay with men occasionally."

I sighed. I admit, I was tempted, but three times in my years in South America I had been nearly trapped into marriage, which would have been a disaster for me. But I had always found a diplomatic way to avoid entanglements. Even if that "diplomatic way" was to get myself onto a fast horse at midnight.

I shook my head. "Tell Uutaaq I'll consider it carefully. But what about you, Father? Apa certainly seems smitten with you."

Father Amancio's smile vanished. Now it was his turn to sigh. "I know, and a relationship with her may be unavoidable, given the additional things that Uutaaq wants."

Esteban had been listening. "Which is what? I thought you said Uutaaq would lead us to the cryolite in exchange for more harpoons, knives and mirrors?"

Despite the fact that we had been actively searching for almost a month, we had not yet discovered the cryolite, the local word for which, Father Amancio had discovered, was orsuksiksaet, "the stone that looks like seal blubber." Both the weather and the terrain had hampered our efforts. Fortunately, the building of the fort at the mouth of Arsuk fjord had gone well. But if we were to depart Greenland on time at the end of August, we would have to find the cryolite deposit quickly to get even a few tons of ore out of the deposit.

"Uutaaq will lead us to the orsuksiksaet," Father Amancio said, and at the sound of the word Uutaaq smiled, "But only if we help him banish the village's angakok, Kinalik."

At the sound of the shaman's name Uutaaq scowled and a dozen sentences in the Inuit language blistered our ears. Father Amancio help up his hand and spoke softly.

"Wonderful," I muttered. "I assume that means they aren't up to the job themselves?"

Father Amancio shook his head. "They are afraid of him. He is said to practice black magic, especially with the ierqat, the mountain spirits." Amancio sighed. "He is also not happy with me, since I have converted several elders and a number of women to the Catholic faith. I think he feels that I am usurping his power." He waved toward the deck where the faint sounds of female laughter and singing could be heard. "Apa thinks he is preparing a tupilait to send against me."

"What's a tupilait?" Esteban asked.

"A tupilait is a potent evil made of animal parts. Very powerful magic. When I was a boy my own angakok said that a shaman had to have great confidence in his abilities or the misfortune intended for the victim would recoil and kill the originator of the spell."

Esteban looked at me. "I think Antonio can arrange such a recoil, if this Kinalik gets feisty. How many soldiers would it take?"

"Ask Uutaaq," I grunted. "He'll know how many followers this Kinalik has."

Father Amancio sent the query at Uutaaq, who held up four fingers.

"A dozen soldiers in armor should be sufficient," I said. "Three with muskets, the rest with swords, armor and helmets. Nice and shiny. It should look impressive. Being confident is sometimes more than half the battle."

Esteban shook his head. "A dozen Bosqueros for four savages? That seems like overkill to me."

I smiled. "And how many Indians have you killed, Esteban, in your many whaling adventures? Uutaaq may be merely underestimating to get us to commit to helping him. Suppose he has twenty or thirty followers instead? Indians are not stupid. Nor are they necessarily trustworthy. A dozen it shall be. And no young hotheads like Sanchez or your brother Christobal. Veterans, men I can depend on when all the plans go to hell." I thought for a moment. "Ricardo, Juan, Julio and Felix, for a start. They will form the core. I'll come up with the rest later."

I looked over at Father Amancio. "But that's not all Uutaaq wants, is it?"

Father Amancio nodded reluctantly. "There have been difficult times along the coast. Not as much ice, which means that more men have been killed seal hunting. In addition to helping to banish Kinalik, I will have to marry two of Uutaaq's daughters. Probably Apa and Sigoko, now that you've turned her down."

I laughed. "So much for a priest's vows of celibacy. Assuming you are willing, of course."

Father Amancio shrugged. "Father Seville told me I might have to make compromises to bring God to the Inuit. And if I am to stay with them, I must re-learn some of the old ways of thinking."

Esteban shook his head in amusement. "Sounds like you may be going native on us, Father."

"Perhaps." Father Amancio looked over at me and smiled. "Or maybe I am simply finding a different path to take."

We landed at high tide on the rocky beach in front of New Seville three days later. The location was close to the town of Fredrickshaab on the maps Luke Foxe had copied in Grantville. It was petty of me to think it, but I still took pleasure in the thought that perhaps our presence would prevent the dour Danes and their Lutheran heresy from making inroads among the Greenlanders.

There were several dozen kayaks and umiaks on the beach. The village itself was larger than I had imagined, several score of rectangular buildings made of wood, stones and turf. As we passed by the large dance hall in the center of the village, however, I noticed that there were very few Inuit about; a few mothers with infants in the hoods of their jackets, a few small girls playing with ivory dolls dressed in fur, a couple of young boys with small bows made of caribou horn and sinew.

As Uutaaq and his daughters led the way along a well-worn path through the willow scrub not too dissimilar from the birch scrub we were accustomed to on Arsuk fjord, I turned to Father Amancio.

"Where are the Inuit, Father?"

Father Amancio smiled. "Did you imagine that only rich Spanish nobles have separate summer and winter homes, Antonio? In the summer the Inuit here move into skin tents on a hill near the lake. Better access for caribou hunting, and breezes to keep off the mosquitos. It's less than two miles."

"I don't like it," Felix Gonzalez, my sergeant, muttered next to me as a willow branch snapped against his helmet. "We can't see shit in this."

"I know, a good place for an ambush, this scrub," I said, watching Father Amancio's back disappear around a bend in the trail. "Pass the word. Tell the men to keep the interval, be alert. Especially the musketeers."

But the scrub soon disappeared and we found ourselves on a small ridge, headed northeast. Off in the distance we could make out the skin tents of the Inuit next to a large lake. When we were half a mile from the summer village, the path descended once again into willow scrub, only denser than what we had already passed through.

The attack came less than fifty yards later.

"Antonio!"

A wave of spears flew from the scrub.

My sword was already half-drawn when the spear aimed for my heart bounced off my breast-plate.

Thank God, stone point, not iron.

My sword was fully drawn as an Inuit came at me from the left, stabbing with one of the basque harpoons we'd sold them.