“I have heard a mariner whisper in terror,” said a slave, “for he fears Tersites, the shipwright, is mad, and would do war against Thassa, would contemplate a journey to where the world is no more, where the seas, like a waterfall a thousand pasangs in width, plunge over the cliff of the world, to fall a thousand pasangs to the rocks of fire, from whence, as boiling steam, they arise until, chilled by the moons, they form clouds and fall again to the earth, as rain.”
“It is true,” whispered a girl.
“It is raining even now,” said a slave, frightened, as the precipitation, turning like a whip in the hand of the wind, struck at the roof and then at the sides of the kennel, one side and then the other, and then, more steadily, fell again upon the roof.
“I do not want to be taken to the World’s End!” cried a girl.
“Then slip your shackle,” said Relia.
There was then another great crash of thunder.
“In the morning, or soon,” said a girl, “when we are loose, let us all run away.”
“There is nowhere to run,” said a slave.
“The masters would be displeased,” said another. “What would be done with us?”
“We cannot escape,” said another. “We are collared. There is no escape for us. We are kajirae!”
“Relia,” I said.
She turned toward me.
“The rains will wipe out scent trails, will they not?”
“For a time, yes, I think so,” said Relia.
“Good,” I said.
“Do not do anything foolish,” said Relia.
“Stay away from the wands,” said Janina.
“Perhaps,” I said. I then rolled myself in the blanket, and lay down.
I listened for a time to the rain, and then fell asleep. I was awakened, from time to time, by bursts of thunder, but, each time, I went back to sleep. In the morning the day’s roster would be posted, and Relia, as was customary, would read it, aloud. I was not the only one in the kennel, incidentally, who was unable to read. It is not that unusual to find individuals, particularly in what are spoken of as the “lower castes,” who cannot, or do not, read. Indeed, some Goreans are too proud to read, even some of the “higher castes.” Many men at arms, for example, pride themselves on their illiteracy, regarding reading as a pursuit more appropriate to merchants and scribes than to those of the “scarlet caste.” Rich men, too, may hire a reader, or one to write letters for them, and such. Some of the lower scribes set up awnings, or set up shop under a trellis, near a market, or in an inn or tavern, or such places, at given times, and make themselves available to read letters, write them, and so on. Many mariners, too, incidentally, do not read, despite the fact that many are of fine mind, and are the masters of much lore and remarkable skills. It is enough, they say, when one can read the currents, the clouds, the winds, the skies, and the stars. The barks to which they trust their lives, the skies, even Thassa herself, they note, do not read.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Ai!” I cried, “What things are these!”
There were two of them. Almost as one, those two large, shaggy heads had turned, so swiftly that it seemed there had been no turning. They had been intent on the live animal bound on the spit. Then, almost as though there had been no movement, we were regarded.
“No!” said Tyrtaios to me. “Do not!” His hand stayed mine. So the bright serpent of steel remained in its housing, tense. “No,” said Tyrtaios, again.
I had not seen such eyes in beasts. They were large, rounded eyes, and they suddenly flashed like burnished copper, reflecting the firelight.
They were crouched down. The legs seemed short for the body, but the body was long, and the arms were very long. There was something odd about the hands, or paws, but it did not then register with me what it might be.
We had come on two beasts, in the woods. But there was a fire. Surely beasts do not build fires.
But they were beasts.
Why had a fire been built?
A small beast squirmed, bound on a stick, or spit.
Many shadows were about. The clearing was small. Branches and trees were about. The moons were obscured. The beasts, regarding us, were deeply furred, so much so I was not immediately sure of the size or form of the actual body. Too, for an instant, only an instant, it seemed the