guild boats, and raftsmen pulled aside to let them pass. Southward they floated, through Hokani Province, past the lands of the Anasati, where warriors in red and yellow offered them salute from the shore. Although Lord Tecuma was a reluctant ally, Mara did not stop. He would make no overtures toward social friendship unless Mara returned from Dustari with her family honour intact. ~
For Kevin, the river offered endless fascination. He spent even the hottest hours by the rail, talking to the barge master and the slaves who manned the poles with equal interest. He studied the water craft, so different from those of his homeworld, arid within days became expert at distinguishing guild colours from house crests, hired craft from those privately owned.
Mara's army drew steadily toward the south, past flotillas of barges bearing market goods, some lashed together into permanent stalls that were patronized by the nobles who used the river as transport between Jamar and Sulan-Qu.
Fast messenger boats raced between slower craft, furiously paddled by sweating slaves. Once they passed an imperial barge, bright with gilt and hung with banners, its white and gold colouring a dazzling change from the many-coloured craft of the nobles. Mara travelled in her barge of state, which was green and adorned with a shatra bird figurehead.
She sat beneath a feathered shade, fanned by her slaves, and comfortably surrounded with perfumed flowers to mask the less pleasant stinks of sewage and river mud. Kevin saw other Lords travelling in style, attended by musicians, poets, and performers. One even had a troupe of travelling players performing upon a stage for his pleasure. Overflowing baskets of fruit lay before him, and fat lapdogs lounged all over his pillows, like so many beribboned sausages. Unlike the pets and hunting dogs of Midkemia, the dogs of Kelewan were short-haired and sleek, as a consequence of the climate.
They passed thyza barges, and travelling farm workers, and what looked like the Kelewanese equivalent of travelling gypsy musicians. 'Khardengo,' Mara identified, when Kevin mentioned the comparison, giving a brief description of gypsies. 'It is written in the old chronicles that they were a family that preferred wandering to taking land. They live in barges and wagons, it is true, much like your gypsies of Midkemia. But unlike your barbarians, the Khardengo have honour. They do not steal for their living.'
Kevin laughed. 'The gypsies have their own culture. By their mores, they do not steal, only -' he paused, unable to find the right word, and settled for his own language ' borrow.'
'Borrow?' Mara squinted up at him where he lounged chewing sekka rinds dipped in vinegar. 'What is that?'
Kevin used other words to explain, and saw her raise her eyebrows in astonishment. Strange, he thought, that the Tsurani concept of honour allowed goods to be exchanged as purchases, gifts, and spoils; but no equivalent to the neighbourly concept of lending a thing between friends existed at all. He prepared himself for another afternoon of talk, as Mara explored the concept exhaustively.
The river flowed into the great delta above the city of Jamar. There they held to the west side of the river, which took them into a deep channel leading to the harbour. To the east the great delta fanned out, alive with rafts scurrying across the water, as fishermen netted the soft-shelled denizens of the shallows, or sought to capture game birds.
Kevin openly stared as they entered the river traffic at Jamar, the major seaport and trade centre for Szetac and Hokani provinces. Larger than Sulan-Qu, the city was grander and more sprawling. The wharves were built as wide as an avenue, and elevated enough to loom over high tides when storms struck from the south. The length was as crowded as any thoroughfare, bustling with stevedores unloading the blue-water ships that made port from all parts of the Empire. The ships rode high, as the tide was almost full, and Kevin could see the rich tapestry of alien sights along the wharf as the Acoma barges passed.
Bales of dyestuffs lay piled next to lashed stacks of rare woods, alongside chests whose chops were ribboned and complex. Mercenaries stood guard over such shipments, indicating their value.
The Acoma barges passed by a low-riding series of ferry barges, loaded to near sinking by stout crates. They leaked exotic smells, of spices used to cure hides, perfumes, and the rich aroma of ground chocha-la.
The Acoma craft passed by landings piled high with rugs, prayer mats and yarns, leather