David Drake - Out of the waters

"Mas-" she said, then touched her lips to mime silencing herself. She resumed, "My friend Uktena? What is that?"

Rather than pointing, she nodded in the direction of what looked like a spire of black glass, well out from the shoreline. The mild surf curled around the base of it, outlining it in foam.

"That is the house of Procron, little one," Uktena said. "He came here from Atlantis flying in that tower. He is our enemy, and I think the enemy of all men in all times; an enemy even to his own people."

"You have meditated all day, Uktena," said the man with a stuffed bird pinned to the roll of his hair. "Have you found the wisdom to send our enemy from us?"

His tone was outwardly respectful, but Alphena could hear the undercurrent of anger in it. She eyed him narrowly.

"Who knows what the spirits intend, Wontosa?" Uktena said, stroking the murrhine bowl of his pipe with his fingertips. His voice was as gentle as his touch on the stone, but Alphena wouldn't have wanted the words directed at her. "But soon, I think, I will try my knowledge against that of Procron."

"He may be gaining strength while you wait, you know," said the sage with a gold ring in his ear. He wore a tunic of familiar pattern rather than a breechclout or an off-the-shoulder robe, and his features were broader than those of the other men Alphena could see.

"I don't know that, Hanno," Uktena said. "Do you know it? You're welcome to try your wisdom against Procron, you know. Or make trial with me, if you wish that."

Hanno-a North African name, which explained his face and dress, but what was he doing in this place?-backed a step. "You know I don't mean that, Master! We have no hope except in you. It's just that-"

He fell silent. Glancing sideways toward the sea and the spire standing in it, he backed another step.

Not before time, Alphena thought.

"Do you have something to add, Dasemunco?" Uktena said to the third sage, who had been eyeing Alphena with a guarded expression. His head was shaved except for a fringe above his forehead.

"I wondered who the woman is, Master," he said, lowering his eyes as if in humility. "Have you created her to aid you in your battle with Procron?"

"It may be that the spirits have sent Alphena to help me, Dasemunco," Uktena said, smiling without affection at the sage. "Until we know their will better, I will continue to take pleasure in the company of a brave friend who does not fear me."

Turning to her, he said, "Come, Alphena. I will show you Cascotan, where I live and where my colleagues are visting since Procron's arrival."

He stepped forward as though the sages were not there; they hopped quickly out of the way. He and Alphena walked side by side between a pair of huts and stopped in the bowl of the semi-circle. Villagers watched with the air of deer poised to flee at the first sign of a threat; none of them spoke. The sages had not followed.

"Why did you say I'm not afraid of you?" Alphena said, as quietly as she could and still be heard. "I know I haven't seen all you can do, but I've seen enough."

"Respect is not fear, little one," Uktena said with a chuckle. "And is not someone who rides a thunderbird worthy of respect as well?"

Alphena started to speak, then decided not to. She realized that Uktena might know more than she herself understood about the way she had come here. Certainly he didn't speak lightly; so she shouldn't lightly disagree with him.

The flat-ended huts didn't look very sturdy. The roof and walls of each were supported on poles that had been bent into arches with both ends fixed in the ground. The frames were covered with reed mats like the one Uktena used to cover his kiva.

Inside were wicker benches and a variety of baskets, but no pottery that Alphena could see. They were unoccupied, except for an old woman who stared toward the doorway with milky eyes.

Something moaned from the near distance. Alphena looked out. It didn't appear to come from the spire on the horizon. One of the watching women turned and began to cry into her hands.

"Come," Uktena said. "Mota must be in the lagoon. It is good that you should see her, little friend."

They walked beyond the village, paralleling the shoreline but a furlong inland. There were fields here too, planted with the same heavy grass. Vines grew at the base of each stalk.

The deep moan sounded again from ahead of them. "Who is Mota?" Alphena said. "Ah, what is Mota?"

"We will see her soon," Uktena said calmly. "She grubs clams in the shallows. She wanders some distance up and down the coast, but she always comes back here eventually. Her mother used to go out to meet her, but she no longer does."

"The woman who was crying back in the village?" Alphena said. Did Mota go crazy? Did Procron drive her crazy?

"Yes," Uktena said. "Lascosa. There is nothing she can do. There is nothing I can do either, for Mota. Perhaps I can save other girls, though, if the spirits wish me to save them."

They stopped on the edge of a steeply sloping bank. Sedges grew down it and continued out into the water, which was black from rotting leaves. Recently stirred mud streaked the surface. Alphena looked to right and left, expecting to see a naked girl with wild hair digging in the muck with her hands. There was no one.

Water gurgled as a woman's head broke the surface. She looked at Alphena and her host, then lifted further.

Alphena shouted and stumbled back. She would have fallen if Uktena had not already had his arm behind her in anticipation of just that occurrence.

Though the eyes and forehead were human, the broad jaws were those of a beast. They worked side to side with a sound like stones turning; mud, muddy water, and bits of broken shell dribbled out from the thick lips.

More of the body lifted to the surface. It was rounded, tapering to a tail that was flattened sideways instead of horizontally like that of a porpoise. The skin was covered with fine scales which gave it a jeweled appearance.

"That is Mota," Uktena said. "She was raking for clams with her mother when Procron arrived in his dwelling. His glass servants came from the spire and took her. In a week's time she was back, as you see her now."

The creature-the girl-opened her mouth. Her jaws were filled with massive grinding teeth. She gave another terrible moan, then submerged again.

"But why?" Alphena whispered.

"Because he could," said Uktena. His voice was as calm as a frozen pond. "There have been others. There will be more, until someone stops him."

Alphena started to say something optimistic-and empty. She looked at Uktena and caught the words unspoken. There was no place for silliness around this man.

"How can I help?" she said. Trying to keep her tone from slipping into defensive anger she continued, "I know I'm a woman but I've trained, I can fight. I lost my-"

She didn't have a word for sword.

"I lost my long knife fighting the vultures, but if you have something here, a knife or an axe, I can help you fight."

Uktena looked at her. Instead of the objection-or worse, dismissive laughter-that Alphena was poised for, he said, "A battle with Procron will not be fought with knives and axes. It is always good to have a friend nearby in a hard place, though. I welcome your presence."

Alphena lifted her chin in understanding. She'd had to ask, though. She glanced toward the lagoon. Mota hadn't surfaced again, which was a mercy; but she was there.

"Uktena, who are the other men?" Alphena asked. "The sages?"

"Come, we will walk back now," he said. Turning, he continued, "They are the wise men of neighboring villages. Hanno was brought to our land by a spirit wind, which whispered secrets to him. He, Wontosa, and Dasemunco all think that I have great power because of the talisman that came here not long before Procron did."