David Drake - Godess of the Ice Realm

The trees, mostly cypress though there were others Cashel didn't recognize, crossed branches. They didn't exactly hide the sky, because the warm mist did that. In the few open patches above, the sun was just a brighter blur than the vapors around it.

"The Visitor neither knows nor cares what humans are doing until he has a use for them," the toad said, getting around to answering Cashel's question. "He doesn't have guards because he doesn't see a threat… which is not to say that you'll be able to walk straight into his ship. That is protected against enemies he fears as he fears nothing onthis world."

"Evne?" Cashel said. He was frowning. "Why does the Visitor come here, anyway? And if he comes, why does he leave, then?"

The toad snorted. "Why does Lord Bossian have dinner now in the West Tower, now in the Plaza?" she said. "Whim, that's all. Merely the whim of one who thinks he's all-powerful."

They'd reached another body of water, this one too broad to jump. Bubbles rose to the surface and hung there as a dirty froth before finally bursting; there was no current at all.

Cashel checked; he didn't find bottom at what would've been mid-chest if he'd jumped in. The water jet-black water drained cleanly off his quarterstaff, leaving the hickory wet but not gummy.

"There's a fallen log to the right," the toad said. "There, where the yellow iris grows on the bank. It's under water, but only ankle deep."

"All right," said Cashel, making his careful way toward the nodding yellow flags. "Ah, that's a snake on the branch overhead."

He didn't add, "isn't it?" to make a question out of the observation, because he had no doubt at all once his mind had registered the fact that one gnarled, blotchy tree limb was twice as thick as the others. Even so he wasn't sure which way the snake lay until the flicker of an inner lid wiping its gleaming black eye caught his attention.

"I wondered when you'd notice him," the toad said, but Cashel thought he heard approval in her tone. The truth was he'd noticed the snake as soon as there was any reason to; if he'd been able to cross where he first struck the water, the long body wouldn't have been of any more importance to him than the branch on which it sprawled.

"Ho, serpent!" Evne called. "Do you know me?"

The snake turned its head, lowering it slightly to hang on an S-curve of its neck. "What if I do?" it said. Its forked tongue took several quick, nervous sips of the air. "You have no power over me here!"

Cashel didn't like the snake's tone-Duzi! he didn't like the fact he was listening to a snake talk!-but he kept walking forward along the overgrown bank, picking his footing carefully among the roots and knotted bog plants. It wasn't a time he'd choose to hurry, regardless.

"You're lucky I don't have any reason to show you that you're wrong!" said Evne with the archly superior tone she used when she was being formal instead of insulting people in a common fashion. "Am I correct that there are no creatures of a sort to be threatening in the waters near your ford?"

"You know there's not," the snake said, letting more of his body loop down. It moved as smoothly as oil spreading. "You know I'd have killed them if there were."

"So I hoped," the toad said. "And I also hope you'll let us pass on our way without a problem."

Cashel paused and wiped his quarterstaff with his wad of raw wool. It might be that he needed a clean grip on the hickory soon.

The snake hissed its laughter. "You may hope that all you like, but you've no reason to expect it," it said. "This is my ford and my hunting ground."

Cashel started forward again. They were getting pretty close. He wasn't sure how far the snake could launch itself, but it was avery big snake.

"I've two reasons," said Evne. "First, because I've asked you politely-"

The snake hissed even louder. Its head began to sway back and forth, swinging a trifle lower with each movement.

"-and second," Evne continued, "because my master will smash your head in if you don't!"

"Does he think that?" rasped the snake. When its jaws were closed, it seemed to smile, but the two fangs that unfolded whenever it spoke were as long as Cashel's hand.

"Ithink that, serpent!" said the toad. "Do you doubt me?"

Cashel raised his staff to mid-chest with his hands spread a comfortable distance for thrusting with one ferrule or the other. Nobody moved for a moment.

"Faugh!" said the snake. Its body slid back up on the branch as easily as it'd lowered. "I ate just the other day. Somebody else can have the pleasure of swallowing you."

"We can go on now, master," Evne said. Cashel was already picking his way forward, not fast but fast enough. His toes found the log and started forward, balancing with his staff.

He kept his face turned up, watching the snake. It stayed as still as the branch it lay on. Walking like this it was better not to look down anyway.

The ground on the far side was higher and a lot firmer than what Cashel had just come through. When he'd put a moss-draped pin oak between him and the snake, he said, "Do all the animals in this swamp talk, Evne?"

"None of them talk," the toad said. "Not so that you could understand, anyway."

"But-"

"Except that you're with me, of course," she added. "That was too obvious to bother mentioning."

"Ah," said Cashel. There was a spiderweb in his path. He started to brush it away with his staff, then decided to go around the other side of the tree instead. A web that big would be a lot of work, even for a spider the size of both Cashel's hands spread.

"Evne?" he said. "Who are you?"

The toad laughed without humor. "Me?" she said. "I'm your servant, great master. Your guide and humble companion."

Cashel sighed. He didn't suppose it mattered. He didn't doubt that Evne was on his side… in her own way.

A damselfly glittered past, an iridescent blue body and shimmering crystal wings. Cashel snatched with his right hand, then brought the trapped morsel close to his left shoulder.

"I thought you might be hungry," he said as he opened his fingers. The toad's long tongue patted his palm before the insect could flutter free.

They continued on for a time in silence broken only by the occasional slosh of Cashel's bare feet. After a while Evne began to sing about a frog who went a-courting.

She had a pleasant voice, for a toad.

Alfdan's band climbed aboard the Queen Ship. Their air of quiet resignation reminded Sharina of peasants heading for the fields on the third day of the harvest-tired from what has gone before and well aware that this day too will be long and hard, but that it must be faced.

Ordinary folk didn't like wizards or wizardry. These men were here because Alfdan was the closest thing they had to a hope of safety.

Scoggin was among the first to board. Sharina reached out to pull him up, but Scoggin had braced his spearbutt in the ground. To her surprise he stretched back his free hand to help Franca. They seated themselves to either side of Sharina, linking their hands around the mast to keep from sliding off.

Beard chuckled, muttering things that Sharina couldn't hear clearly and probably wouldn't have wanted to. Like Alfdan, the axe was a valuable associate but not a completely comfortable one.

"What do we do now, Mistress Sharina?" Franca asked.

"I've promised to help the wizard find a key," she said. "I don't have any more information than that. He'll take me where I request after I've found the key. I don't know where that is yet."

Scoggin snorted. "Suits me," he said. "Away from here is a good start."

He looked at the men now crowding the ship's deck. There were seventeen in the band and Alfdan himself; plus now Sharina and her two companions. "They aren't a bad lot," Scoggin went on in a low voice. "The rest of 'em, I mean. I haven't had anybody around since, well, for a long time."