"Wherefore not?"
"Because I am not sure we three can handle the ship with so large a spread. If all go well with the mizzen and we are becalmed, we may try the main."
"Oh, fiddle-faddle! In these light breezes we need all the sail we can spread to get to Salimor, which I mean to do in haste."
"I won't, for the reason I gave."
"We shall hoist both, I tell you! If the blow strengthen, it will be time enough to haul them in."
Nogiri, attracted by the men's rising voices, approached and stood silently. Kerin put on his firmest face. He knew that he faced a critical test. Inwardly he quaked, his knees seemed ready to fold, and his bladder sent a call for relief. But with shoulders squared and chin up, he said:
"Let's understand something, Doctor Pwana. At sea, the captain is absolute ruler. Whilst I'm no barnacled old salt—"
"A clown like you, who let Malgo disarm him and could not even climb aboard without falling into the sea, you captain? Be not absurd, boy! A tame ape were abler—"
Kerin raised his voice to a shout: "And who tried to tame the pirates with logic? I still know more about sailing than you twain together! That makes me captain; and if I say we shall sail on the mizzen alone, so shall it be."
"Insolent young princox!" screamed Pwana. "Know you not that, as a wizard, I can cast upon you a spell of impotence or a disorder of the bowels?"
"And then how would you, old, frail, and ignorant of seamanship, manage the craft? If you contest my authority, I'll toss you back in the boat and cast you adrift. You can row back to the company of crabs and lizards."
"You would not dare!"
"Try me and see!"
Pwana grumbled something under his breath, of which Kerin caught only ". . . shall rue your impudence!" Aloud he said: "Aye, aye, sir, Captain, Admiral, Great Lord of the Oceans! What commands Your Divinity of this humble deckhand?"
Kerin grinned. "I hadn't expected such rapid promotion. First, I want you and the princess to climb to the roof of the deckhouse and cast loose the stops from the mizzen yard."
"What are stops?" said Pwana.
"Those short lengths of line tied around the sail. Nogiri, find a bag or a basket wherein to gather the stops."
"But, Admiral," said Pwana, "how shall we untie the ropes on the back half of the yard, over our heads?"
"You shall do as sailors do: straddle the yard and bump along it on your arses. Be glad the sea is calm."
While Kerin identified the halyard by which the yard was hoisted and the winch to raise it, he murmured: "Belinka!"
"Aye, Master Kerin? What idiotic nonsense are you up to now, scorning my prudent advice?"
"I cannot go without sleep all the time. So I want you to watch Doctor Pwana, whose feelings for me are less than adoration. Warn me if you see him doing aught suspicious, such as putting poison in my food or creeping with dagger upon me asleep."
"Oh. I understand, Captain. Pray forgive my outburst. Adeliza will be proud of you when I report how you mastered this arrogant trickster!"
"Humph!" snorted Kerin. He leaned heavily on the rail, without the support of which he feared he would collapse on deck from sheer funk.
V
The Coasts of Ambok
Day followed day as the former pirate vessel plodded eastward. Pwana named the ship the
Benduan
after an island of the archipelago on which he had been born. When they passed another ship, the other always turned away and ran for it. The third time this happened, it occurred to Kerin that the other probably recognized Malgo's vessel and fled in fear of attack.
As Kerin had predicted, a search of the hull turned up no treasure. In the hold they discovered a pile of oddments of clothing behind the jars and casks of provisions: wine, oil, rice, dried chick-peas, salted meats, and so on. The only worthwhile loot was that which they had already taken from the bodies of pirates killed on Kinungung.
Betimes they passed other islands, some mere atolls and sand spits, supporting no life but sea birds. Kerin insisted, despite Pwana's fretting over the delay, on anchoring at night whenever the water was shallow enough for the anchor to bite.
Then the islands waxed larger. Sometimes these forested bodies of land showed signs of human life. Once, when Nogiri was at the tiller and Kerin and Pwana were leaning on the rail, Kerin pointed, saying:
"Look yonder, Doctor. Do I see people putting out in a boat?"
Pwana stared through his spyglass. "You do indeed, Captain. If I mistake not, that island is Siau, whose folk have unpleasant habits. You had better raise the larger sail, unless you wish our heads to adorn their village gate posts whilst our bodies are roasted for dinner."
"Oh? Give me a look, pray."
Kerin saw through the glass that the craft was a dugout canoe, manned by a score of brown-skinned paddlers. They drove it ahead with powerful strokes, timed by a barking chant.
"Master Kerin!" squealed Belinka. "You must speed the ship!"
"I will," said Kerin. "I shall need help with the sail, Pwana." He tried to keep his voice level, but it rose with tension. "Help me to take off the stops."
When this was done, Kerin needed the oldster's help on the winch to hoist the yard. This buff-colored sail was twice as heavy as the mizzen on which they had leisurely been sailing. A glance showed the canoe to be gaining fast.
"Nogiri!'' Kerin shouted. " Crouch down!''
He and Pwana strained at the crank handles. But the winch was meant to be raised by two well-muscled men, and Pwana lacked the needed strength. Digit by digit the sail arose, flapping its folds in the gentle breeze.
"Harder!" Kerin gasped.
"I am working—as hard—as I can!" panted Pwana.
Astern, the canoe grew larger. The paddlers were muscular men even darker than Pwana, naked but wearing headdresses of bright-hued feathers. Closer they came, until the shouts of one in the bow came clearly across the water.
"It's only—half up!" said Kerin. "Come on!"
"I can do—no more!" sighed Pwana.
The man in the bow of the craft drew a bow to the ear and aimed up at an angle. The arrow whistled down into the sea a few yards astern of the
Benduan.
"Nogiri!" Kerin called. "Lash the tiller and come up here!"
The girl's modest strength provided the extra force needed to raise the sail the remaining distance. Kerin sent Nogiri back to the tiller, since the
Benduan
had begun to fall far off course. Then he busied himself with securing the lines. The sail, which had been flapping and booming, at last filled properly. The ship heeled a little more and sent out a larger wake.
"I think we gain," said Kerin at last, staring aft.
The Siauese veered off, to double back and shrink away towards their village. Pwana said:
"With the Captain's permission, I will go to my cabin and lie down. Cranking that thing was a little too much for mine aged heart."
"Go ahead," said Kerin. "I'll take the conn, Nogiri."
When Pwana was out of sight, Kerin, now at the tiller, said: "Princess, have you noticed how obedient and respectful our hermit has become?"
"Aye, I have."
"Think you he's had a change of heart, or that he merely bides his time to take revenge?"
"From what I know of him," the girl replied, "I should guess the latter."
"I could have ranked him out of the captain's cabin. What would then have ensued?"
She shrugged. "I know of no way to test these surmises, save to put us back on Kinungung and start over, pursuing the other course."
"Nogiri," said Kerin, "you can always be counted upon for common sense."
"Thank you. Mine uncle complains I have too much sense for a woman. He will probably say that picnicking with my sister and no attendants and being seized by pirates proves I am nought but a woman after all."
"Your uncle?" said Kerin.
"Aye; I dwell in his household with a swarm of cousins, my parents being dead. I shall leave that house when I wed next month."
"You are betrothed?" said Kerin, feeling an obscure pang. He had been true to his promise that Nogiri would have nothing to fear, but his lusts had begun to fever him. He had been working up the courage to make a discreet advance, at least to ascertain if she were willing. If she were, what harm? But now even that prospect went glimmering.
"Aye," she said, "to a young man mine uncle chose."
"Are you and this lucky youth in love?"
"Great Vurnu, what a barbarous notion! My family wants an alliance with his, and we shall doubtless come to like each other well enough. As far as I can judge from seeing him twice, he seems a man of parts. Mine uncle would not, I am sure, betroth me to a scoundrel or wastrel. I trust you'll escort me to's house in Kwatna, where they will reward you."
"I shall be glad to," said Kerin a little stiffly, "and not merely in hope of reward."
As sunset neared, Kerin routed out Pwana to help him lower and furl the mainsail. The hermit grumbled: "At this rate, I shall be dead of old age ere we raise Ambok!"
"I dare not sail fast in strange waters," said Kerin firmly. "Even with the moon, 'tis mainly by luck that we haven't struck a rock or a shoal."
Since the water was too deep for anchoring, Kerin sailed through the night. When this happened, he took the tiller for most of the night, posting someone in the bow for a lookout. This night, with Nogiri in the bow and Kerin at the tiller, Belinka danced before him, twinkling:
"Master Kerin, I warn you! Cease lallygagging after that brown barbarian maid! Adeliza will be furious!"
"Let her rage," said Kerin. "I'll pick my own mate. Not this one, however. She's betrothed."
"But I know you Prime Planers! Put a pair of healthy young of opposite sex together, and neither laws nor customs nor promises will thwart their lusts."
"Were you of sensible size," grinned Kerin, "I'm sure I could lust after you."
"Oh, you beast! You unnatural monster! You vile lecher! You are impossible, and I will have nought more to do with you!"
Kerin chuckled. "Just be on hand the next time danger threatens, Belinka, and all will be well."
The journey from Kinungung took twice as long as it would have with an experienced crew. When not otherwise busy with the ship, Kerin practiced his Salimorese on Nogiri, who also taught him the few words of Kuromonian she knew.
Nineteen days after leaving Kinungung, the
Benduan
sighted a stretch of forested land. Pwana said this was Ambok, the main island of Salimor and the site of the capital of Kwatna. Kerin wondered how he knew, since one stretch of beach, fenced by a line of coconut palms and backed by a towering hardwood forest, looked much like another. They had passed several such shores in recent days. To each Pwana had said:
"Nay, that is not Ambok. That is either Pola or Jambiang, or Waiku or Sakudina."
As they neared the new coast, Kerin said: "Kwatna must be elsewhere, since I see no signs of habitation. Should we turn north or south?''
Pwana frowned, staring through his spyglass. "Methinks Kwatna lies a dozen leagues to northward. First, I pray, let us anchor. Our water is turning foul, and we must find fresh."
"What sort of folk live hereabouts?"
"Mostly simple peasants. The Sophis have turned the headhunters into taxpaying farmers. That cannot be said of some of the smaller isles, as we have seen."
An hour later, the
Benduan
anchored a bowshot from shore. Leaving Nogiri on watch, Kerin and Pwana rowed the ship's boat, laden with empty casks, to the beach. They agreed that Kerin should walk to northward seeking a stream, while Pwana trudged to the south. Each, if nothing he found, should turn back after half a league's hike.
After a quarter-hour, Kerin came to the mouth of a rivulet, winding sluggishly out of the shadowy green of the jungle. He dipped a finger and tested; it was fresh.
Kerin whooped and trotted back along the strand to where the boat was beached. Pwana was not to be seen; so Kerin sat down to wait. If Pwana, too, had found a water source, they would take the boat to the nearer.
Kerin sat and watched an occasional crab beachcombing for carrion. Then he glanced out at the
Benduan.
He saw the small figure of Nogiri in the bow, holding a stay and waving her free arm. Her mouth worked, but the distance was too great to hear.
"Belinka!" Kerin called.
"Aye, you lascivious monster?" The sprite materialized.
"The princess seems agitated. Pray, flit out and find the cause."
Belinka soon returned, saying: "She demands speech forthwith, Master Kerin! She thinks that Pwana hath absconded."
Kerin rowed back to the
Benduan.
When he had climbed aboard and secured the boat, Nogiri told him:
"I suspected some such scheme. When you set off northward, he bent his steps south; but after a few paces, he looked about, pulled something from his garment, and vanished! I could still see the garment, which fell to the sand. It lies where he dropped it."
"He must have donned the tarncap," said Kerin. "Now why should he do such a thing?"
"I can but guess. Would he walk boldly into Kwatna, counting upon the new Sophi's good will? As he counted upon his logic to tame the pirates? Perchance. But suppose he wished to take a new name, change his appearance by magic, and resume his magical practice?"
"If that were his plan," mused Kerin, "he would not wish us to see him change; we could threaten to expose him. It would seem riskier, though, to set out naked on a barefoot hike through the jungle. What is the danger from wild beasts?"
"Not great. Tigers are few near Kwatna; from being hunted, they are seldom seen. A leopard will not attack a grown man; and the only elephants hereabouts are tame ones. The prime hazard is that of venomous serpents. So, shall we go for water or sail for Kwatna?"
"The latter, methinks," said Kerin. "With Pwana absent, I'm sure we have enough water to get us thither. He said it lies a day's sail northward."
"But if he wished to assure our arrival after his—or not at all—would he not give false directions?"
Kerin smote his palm with his fist. "My clever, suspicious princess! Certes he would; so let's sail south for at least a day or two. If we find neither the city nor any wight who can direct us, then we'll turn north."
Since the sun was already far down, the
Benduan
remained at anchor for the night. Kerin examined the scanty belongings that Pwana had brought aboard. He helped himself, not without a twinge of conscience, to such useful articles as the spyglass.
The next morning they sailed. At the mouth of another creek, they passed two fishermen standing immobile on stilts in the shallows, poising spears for a deadly thrust at some unwary fish. Nogiri hailed these watchers and asked if they were headed aright for Kwatna. She reported:
"As nearly as I could grasp their dialect, this is the right direction; but Kwatna is twenty or thirty leagues."
Later that day, Kerin did what he had so far avoided by cautious sailing and anchoring every night when the depth of water permitted. He ran the
Benduan
aground on a sand bar. There the little ship remained despite Kerin's sweat-streaming efforts to tow it off with the
Dragonet
's boat.
Kerin and Nogiri had to set out in the boat to hunt for fresh water after all. They found another rivulet, with a ten-foot crocodile asleep on its bank. Having driven the reptile away by throwing stones, they filled their casks. While they were at work, a bloodcurdling scream resounded from the forest. Startled, Kerin asked:
"Means it that some jungle beast is slaying Pwana?"
Nogiri laughed. "No such luck! That is the cry of the long-tailed fowl we call a peacock."
"According to those fishermen," said Kerin back on the
Benduan
, "Kwatna is still too far for us to row. But we cannot stay here for ay."
"Do not give up hope of getting free," said Nogiri. "See how the moon does dwindle nightly."
"What has that to do with freeing the ship?"
"Know you not that high tides are higher at full moon and at new moon than in between? We ran aground at low tide with the moon just past half full. Any day now, a high tide should float us."
Kerin smiled. "My clever princess! I was reared inland, and there were no tides on the lake where I learned boating."
So it proved. Two days later, the
Benduan
sailed into the harbor of Kwatna, the capital of Salimor.
Kwatna harbor was cluttered with ships of all sizes, having hulls painted in every hue—crimson, emerald, buff, and black—anchored or moored to quays. The Salimorese lacked piers. Other craft moved in or out of the harbor; small boats bustled about, proffering merchandise or offers to tow.
These ships bore an exotic look. There was not a true square-rigger in sight; most of the local craft bore triangular sails like those of the
Benduan
, although those moored or at anchor had their sails furled. Others had sails of curious horned or trapezoidal shapes. Kerin saw a couple of big, square-ended, threeand four-masted ocean-goers with lugsails stiffened by bamboo battens. He supposed these last to be from Kuromon.
Some smaller vessels were little more than dugouts, with outriggers to keep them upright. There were also two ships that Kerin supposed to be galleys of war. They were long, low, and lean, designed to be paddled rather than rowed, with seats along the gunwales for paddlers. In addition, each had a pair of outriggers, one on each side, and the outriggers also had seats for paddlers. At the moment these anchored craft appeared to have but skeleton crews aboard.