must away, immediately. Fetch your weapons, and supplies, and do not attempt to follow us. That would mean your death.”
“I wish you well,” said Genserich.
“I wish you well,” said Axel to Genserich, and the others. “Tiomines,” he called, slapping his thigh, and the brute shook its fur, still wet and muddy from the shore, and padded softly to his side. For its weight the sleen steps lightly. This has to do with the softness and width of the paws, like broad, velvet cushions from which knives might spring, curved knives, for anchoring prey. Axel then turned to me. “We have no time to spend here,” he said. “We are much delayed. The matter is urgent. We may already be too late. We leave now.”
“I shall bind and leash the barbarian,” I said. I looked about. “Where is she?” I said.
“Master!” cried Tula. “She is gone!”
Chapter Forty-Four
I dared not move east along the river, for that would lead me to Shipcamp, and I feared to go west, for the intruders had gone west, toward the coast. And there might, for all I knew, be others, coming and going on those trails. Nearer the coast, too, there might be villages. I was terrified to cross the river, but I would wish to do so, sooner or later, to move south. It was already late autumn, and I was well aware of the lightness and flimsiness of the bit of rent rep-cloth I wore. Already, at night, more than once, cuddled in the leaves, I had longed for my kennel blanket. The leaves of the Tur trees had begun to turn. Once there had been a dusting of snow, the specks bright in the sunlight between the trees. I was very much afraid the weather might suddenly change. I knew there was eagerness at Shipcamp to bring the great ship to Thassa before the possibility of ice in the river. There seemed no immediate danger of that, but others knew more of such things than I. Many, I knew, thought it madness to take the great ship, or any ship, abroad on Thassa this late in the season. I had gathered it was seldom done. In such seasons Thassa grows capricious and turbulent. There is the wind, the cold, the storms, the mighty waves, the torrents of icy rain. Even coast vessels, seldom out of the sight of land, would seek their harboring before the onset of winter. I must move south. I resolved to go far enough inland to elude pursuit, and then, when sure of my escape, somehow cross the river, perhaps stealing a boat, perhaps building a raft, bound with vines, or even clinging to debris. I was wary of the water itself, as I did not know what might lie within it. I did know that the dreaded river tharlarion which infest, and terrorize, the Cartius and Ua rivers did not range this far north. I must be careful not to return inadvertently to the vicinity of Shipcamp as I had before. I still did not understand how that could have come about. I did know that a small unevenness in one’s pace, a tiny difference in the stride of one foot as opposed to the other, common in almost anyone, save perhaps those trained in a measured stride, such as warriors, might result in one’s eventually describing a vast circle, but I did not think I had covered so many pasangs as to make that plausible. Too, what of the time of day, and the sun? And certain stars? Could one not gather one’s directions from such things? How incomprehensible it all was. I remembered my terror, and dismay, when I beheld the wands marking the perimeter of Shipcamp. I had returned! How had it come about? Certainly I would not be so foolish as to repeat that mistake, however it had come about.
I looked up, through the trees. The sun was high.
Tula, Mila and I, and, I think, others, as well, even the men, had been startled when Master Axel had suddenly cried out, and Master Genserich, warned, had moved in such a way, so quickly, so suddenly, spinning about, as to avoid receiving a cast javelin in his back. As it was he was wounded only slightly, I think at the shoulder, near the neck. One of Master Genserich’s own men had attacked him. Almost at the same time, Master Axel, his mien terrible, had cried out and loosed his hideous beast, setting it on the