Andre Norton - The Warding of Witch World

Then at last Svan raised her chin almost defiantly as she replied, “There is no moon this night, Trade Master.”

Frost moved so the cushions about her rustled. She held her gem a little away from her breast so that it dangled from its chain. “There is Power and Power,” she said crisply. “We must come to a decision, for I am under pledge to report to my sisterhood and learn from them in return.” In the heart of the jewel there was a spark of white fire.

“Well enough,” the Trade Master’s heavier voice responded. “But first we eat and restore ourselves.”

There was no answer from the Watcher. Trusla noted that Inquit’s gaze followed the Sulcar wisewoman steadily and she had a suspicion that the Latt shaman was not pleased by the Svan’s attitude.

It seemed that by unspoken consent among the whole party no more reference was made to the quest. But as several others, both men and women who apparently had some say in the affairs of the town, came in and small blocks of tables were strung together to support dishes of steaming stew and hard ships’ crackers in place of bread, there was excited talk of the fate of the Flying Crossbeak . Audha’s story had apparently sped through this company.

“Such should be wiped from the earth!” declared one young man, not wholly Sulcar by birth, for his hair was dark and he had slightly obliquely set eyes.

The Sulcar seated beside him brought his fist down on his portion of the shared table with almost enough strength to send the dishes spinning, filled though they were.

“Dargh was talked of at the last All Gather,” he burst out. “And what was said then? That we could not spare fighters or ships enough to take the island. It is pitted with caves to which those demons flee whenever they are threatened. We can destroy their foul dens and kill maybe a hand’s worth”—he held up his hand now and wriggled the fingers—“that are too old or stupid to take to hiding in time. If we stay for a period, they creep out at night and pick off any sentry and are gone where even our best trackers cannot follow. They are of the Dark and the Dark favors them. But this matter of icebergs which drive a ship to them—Dunamon himself, who knows the northern seas as a wasbear knows the hunting flows, swears that this maid is sure of what she saw.

“I tell you, shipmates and kin blood, if some Power has turned the very force of nature against us—then what comes of our outpost here? The demons of Dargh twice raided our holdings here when we were building. We drove them off at cost and then have sat well pleased our battle honors because they came not again. But what if they have now a force which turns aside axe and sword?”

“There is this, Trade Master”—Inquit had popped a round of vegetables from her stew into Kankil’s mouth—“when there is a gather of Dark forces, drawing in to its core all such as can be influenced by it, then when it falls, so does its followers. For Power unleashed does not halt until all which threatens it is gone—and the Light is very sure.”

The Sulcar man grimaced. “Wisewoman, we who have no talents and are drawn into the affairs of Great Ones also may be wiped away. Tell us the truth—what do you seek here? Save for Dargh, we suffer no threat.”

“You have a path,” Captain Stymir put in. He pushed aside his dish and from a belt pouch produced the plaque he had shown those on board the Wave Cleaver . “What story have you about the coming of the Sulcars?” He asked that with force enough to rivet their full attention.

The man who had been speaking was quick enough to answer. “That our far kin came on ships through an ice gate into this land.”

“And why did they come?” For the first time Simond spoke again after his long spell of reporting news.

“The saying is that they fled some danger,” the Sulcar growled. “Many people on this world have such tales of their own. But the seasons between that time and this have been past the counting even for the Rememberers.”

“How far north has any ship gone in—say in the past fifty seasons, Trade Master?” Simond persisted.

The Trade Master answered with authority. “Evan Longnose took the Raven past the ice wall that season when there was more heat.”

“Only his longboat returned, crewed by four dead men,” answered the other Sulcar flatly. “We do not go beyond the high wall unless some hunter is a witless fool.”

“But,” Captain Stymir now cut in, “this is the season for the running of the under-ice streams. More than half your people here are already on the trek to mine them as well as set their traps. This, as the Trade Master knows, was found two seasons ago by Jan Hessar in one such stream.”

He laid the plaque on the board before him and those who had not already viewed it on shipboard crowded closer to see it.

“This is a thing of Power—the Lady Frost has tested it.” He bowed his head a fraction in the witch’s direction. “But Dark Power. Like the gold and gems you pick from the gravel of the ice streams, this was borne slowly into light—probably by the ice itself and then freed through the seasonal melting. Therefore it has a source beyond our explorations.”

“To go by ship is folly!” burst out the Sulcar. “And over the ice mountains? What fool would try to set a trail? And…” he paused to scowl at the plaque, “who knows what awaits at the other end?”

“We shall see,” Stymir said quietly. “This is perhaps a key. We know of gates; which one will this one open?”

“Enough!” The Trade Master ended the discussion. “All this talk of evil is enough to unsettle any stomach. Tell us of how things go in Korinth, what trade has come in from the Dales.” And he gazed at them from under bristling brows.

Captain Stymir was the first to grin in answer. “Well enough. You have heard the worst; now let us turn to the best. The Dale lords squabble as usual among themselves. Though since the Falconers have established an Eyrie in the north there are no more sea raiders thinking to fill their chests with the products of honest traders’ labor.

“Lord Imry works to bring all the forces under him, but the southern holders who suffered the most in the Alizon invasion are not so ready to relinquish any authority. The three major ports have been largely rebuilt and there is a steady stream of traders—especially in wool and artifacts from the Waste.”

Lady Gagna shivered. “Such are unchancy,” she commented.

The captain agreed. “True, but none are taken aboard until they have been examined by a sage or one of the Dames of the Flame abbeys. And they have their own way of dealing with that which is cursed. Estcarp is quiet now—Koris is a good lord and justly esteemed, and Simon Tregarth sits at his right hand.

“Escore boils now and then and perhaps always will, but the Tregarth sons and those of the Green Valley are good guardians. In the far south several seasons ago the Port of Dead Ships was destroyed, and there is much talk now of an exploring expedition to head farther than Var in that direction, after the search for the gates is behind us.

“So far, outwardly, all follows the usual pattern.”

But , Trusla though, why ? At least the Trade Master knew what occupied the minds of most thoughtful people now, talented or untalented.

She and Simond had been offered quarters in one of the empty houses, the owner of which had gone off for the summer harvesting of whatever this land had to offer. The misty rain had stopped and they did not need a lantern to guide them, for the strange light which held in this north during the summer season was still giving the impression of day.

Trusla gave a sigh which was partially of happiness when she shed again her cloak and left it to dry, draped over two wall hooks.