The Ancient Enemy (20 page)

When things were really bouncing there came a blast from the constable's trumpet and the Winter King was carried in by four stout mots and set on his throne. The Winter King this year was young Yerri Hipens, who'd won the race earlier in the day, coming in a good hundred yards ahead of the second mot. The Harvest Queen then crowned the Winter King, and ended her own reign. There was raucous applause and the Winter King sang his song and after a verse or two the musicians picked it up and amplified it and everyone returned to dancing.

So went the festival for Thru, a mixture of great meals and sentimental memories reawakened. Afterward he returned to Tamf in much the same way he'd come north, catching a ride on a fishing boat heading south to Dronned. The boat this time was
Dory Alma
under Captain Murflut. She was heading back to Dronned with a full hold of cod and halibut from the northern grounds. Murflut was happy to take a few more shillings from Thru to carry him around to the city.

That night, off Raker's Point, they drank seabeer together, and he told them how the festival had gone in Warkeen. They listened with sad expressions. For them it had been just another day of hard work. That was the lot of the fishermot: He must be at sea when the fish are there, not when festivals dictate.

"But though we didn't have much to feast on and nothing but seabeer to drink," said Captain Murflut with a grin, "we had a visit from the spirits."

"Oh?"

"We saw sails in the moonlight," said sailor Pukli. "Big as houses, tall as trees they were."

"They were stacked three deep. I never seen real sails like that." Murflut refilled their mugs.

"We all saw it," said Mitz, the remaining member of the crew. "It was a vision sent to us all. It must mean something good, but I don't know what it could be."

Thru was excited by their news. These fishermots had been touched personally by the Spirit. The Questioners had to be wrong, the Spirit was real, and it not only listened passively to their meditations and prayers, it reached out actively to help them.

"Where did you see this?"

"We were out past the western banks, in the lee of Roam rocks. The sea shelf there is always good for cod in winter."

"Aye, we were setting lines at night when it happened. We were looking west when the sails appeared. They went from south to north, and we lost sight of 'em in sea mist."

"It were a misty night," said old Pukli. "Made me wonder if I was just imagining it. Trick of the moonlight or something."

"But we all seen it, so it had to be more than that."

"When you get home you have to tell the Assenzi. Go to the temple, talk to Melidofulo. He will guide you in interpreting your vision."

"Go to the Assenzi? I don't know," muttered Captain Murflut. "Not sure I like the idea of that."

"But why? The Assenzi will not harm you."

"I've heard tales of them things that could curl your fur."

"You shouldn't put your trust in tales. Ask the Assenzi anything, and they will respond. They are not evil mages or wizards or some such thing."

"Oh yes, and what do you know about Assenzi?" said Murflut.

"Or anything else for that matter," sniggered old Pukli.

"Well, about the Assenzi I learned a little when I was at Highnoth."

"Ah ha, you're a Highnoth youth. That explains it."

"But, by the Spirit," Thru had become passionate, "you should listen to me. Go to Melidofulo in Dronned. The Assenzi can tell you much about matters of the Spirit."

Thus they argued for a while, until the conversation shifted back to the price their cod would fetch in the market.

Thru was not sure that he had converted any of them, but he hoped they would remember his words when they thought about this remarkable vision they'd had.

The next morning they made landfall in Dronned, and Thru bid them farewell. The weather had finally changed over to winter, and he was forced to stay in Dronned for several days while a winter storm battered the coast, leaving the season's first snow on the city streets.

Thru took a room at the Harbor Inn, which soon filled up as every boat in harbor stayed put. While the storm whipped snowflakes around the streets and alleys, Thru went about his rounds. He visited Merchant Ortenod and dropped by at Merchant Yadrone's house. The merchants welcomed him and treated him to sweet wine and biscuits and the blessing of the season.

Later he formally delivered a letter to the Grys Norvory. With it was sworn testimony from Iallia Treevi concerning the true ownership of the "Chooks and Beetles" mat. The Grys refused to meet him in person, which he had expected, so he simply left the letter and went his way.

He stopped in at Kussha's house and found Noop waiting for the evening meal. Together they joined Bluit down at the Laughing Fish over an ale or two before returning to a feast from Kussha's kitchen.

He learned that after he'd left them the Laughing Fish team had lost its last two games and finished well out of the running. Most of the club's members were convinced that Thru's batting would have changed that. Pern Treevi had not been popular around the clubhouse, and Rawli Perensa was said to be still outraged at the lies Treevi had told him. Treevi had last been heard of sailing south to Mauste, just as Snejet had reported.

The next day he stopped at the House of Norvory and made an inquiry for the Grys's reply to his letter. After a wait of several minutes on the doorstep he was brusquely informed that his message had not been read and probably wouldn't be. Thru stormed off, biting his lip to keep from erupting with angry words. After walking blindly through the streets for several hours he made his way to Kussha's once more. There he took comfort in good company and later, from Kussha's magnificent evening meal.

Afterward he thought about the problem. He could not get justice in the Royal Courts because of his lack of standing in the Guild of Dronned. There was only one way he could force the Grys to give an accounting of his actions. It was very rarely used, but it was still legal and could be called on in an extreme situation, such as that which faced Thru Gillo.

The next day, the storm had abated and a fishing boat took him down the coast to Tamf. Before setting out he left another message for the Grys Norvory in which he protested about the lack of respect shown him and challenged the Grys to a duel come the summer, when he next returned to Dronned.

That winter in Tamf was a time that Thru would always look back on as a period bathed in golden light. Between his affair with Nuza and his work, his life was immensely satisfying and full. Never had he felt so alive, so awake to every moment of the day. Despite the problems with Pern Treevi and the guilds in Dronned, it seemed that the future was his to shape.

Thru and Nuza read together and argued about the meaning of life and the words of the Great Book. They went to meetings of the Questioners, and Thru felt his thinking broadening with each visit.

"I believe we were made with a purpose in mind, and that purpose is that we fit within the world as it exists. The Spirit is real to me."

"There is no evidence that the Spirit exists."

"I can feel the Spirit inside me."

Nuza would smile, then sigh softly. "So do I."

They would laugh together.

"But some of the Questioners would deny it."

"I understand what they are saying, but I cannot agree with them."

Thru distrusted the idea that all was the result of chaotic chance. He clung steadfastly to the strength he felt from the Spirit.

He had come to understand that the Questioners came from many viewpoints and that some groups were larger than others. He knew that many folk who came to the meetings were like him, eager to learn, but certain in their hearts that the Spirit existed.

Meanwhile Nuza's mother had come to accept the affair. She had not issued an invitation to the house, but she had given up the constant assault on Nuza.

His room was always hot from the laundry below, so he would weave with the windows wide-open. He put up "Leaf" pattern mats for part of the day, then he would turn to another mat, either "Chooks and Beetles" or "Mussels and Rakes." There was also a new pattern for "Nets and Fishes," one of the oldest styles in existence, but he had to yet to start weaving that one.

"Mussels and Rakes," with its dramatic touches of high weft detail, was emerging as a masterpiece. His knotting was improving. Still not Mesho, but far above the average. Day by day the pattern became clearer, the shapes took on a lifelike quality, and the work grew strong. Nuza was thrilled with his progress.

The two lovers ate together, usually roast fish and bushpod bought out of the cookshop on the opposite corner. While they ate they talked of their plans for the summer. It promised to be a very busy time.

"Creton, that's where I want to be in the spring." Nuza was very definite. "Smaller places down there, like Bilauk, don't get a lot of attention from the troupes and actors. I think we'd get a good reception. We can work our way down as far as Cape Blue before the end of Early Summer Moon. Then we come back up on the inland route and pass through the mining towns in the mountains."

"I like that plan," said Thru, who in truth would be happy going in any direction. "Creton is said by all to be very beautiful country. But will we get to Dronned for the summer fest?"

"We'll take passage on a fishing boat. They'll be sailing up to Tamf and Dronned for the summer squid."

"You think folk will wager again on me in those places we visited last year?"

"Oh, yes. There will always be challengers for you. Toshak, well that's different. He's known as a product of the academy. You have to be very good with a sword to think about challenging him. But throwing the ball past seventy-seven-run Thru Gillo? Now
that
is something lots of young mots might dream of doing and telling their friends."

At Nuza's insistence they went twice a week to take lessons in swordfighting technique with Toshak. They met him on the dueling ground, a flat space just outside the city's western gate, where they drilled with foils and tried the wider-bladed weapons, too.

Nuza knew that Thru would challenge the Grys Norvory in the summer. There would be a duel with swords, and the Grys had been trained in his youth, as all young aristocrats were. Thru needed further training if he was to stand a chance.

Toshak's face, compressed by the intensity of the moment, was an image that became imprinted on Thru's mind. The eyes flared wide so the whites were showing, the ears back, the lips pulled taut from the battle cry.

Toshak had such speed in the advance and retreat and such incredible quickness in flicks and parries that Thru was left amazed. It was no wonder that hardly anyone ever took up Toshak's challenge. Certainly Thru was never able to take more than a point or two from him in a bout. Foil and epee, spadroon and short sword, they were all the same to Toshak.

At times it was like kyo with Master Sassadzu—the mantra of the pointed hand, direct and light, but unstoppable, the liquid movements that were impossible to counter. Toshak in flow was elemental.

"You have a steady arm; in time you will learn to use it." Toshak would give Thru no easy passage.

A few times they met with the rest of the troupe to discuss the next summer. One of the big issues they faced was the need for old Hob to retire soon. One more summer perhaps, that was all that Hob could give to catching Nuza. Beyond that they would need a new brilby, or a kob if one was to be found.

Nuza got very busy for a while working up new costumes for the summer. She liked to change them and not appear in the exact same catsuits and jumpers year after year. The previous year had been crimson and yellow, the next was to be more summery, more green and maybe even frilly. When she had settled on a design she worked together with her mother to cut and sew the cloth, using the best Mauste wool cloth and Gelden silks.

The months wore on. Mats mounted up. Finally "Chooks and Beetles" was finished. A glorious object, shimmering with bright color. Nuza took it home and showed it to her mother, Damora, who was stunned by the quality of the work. She saw, as had her daughter, that Thru was indeed gifted.

Damora, a potter, knew in her bones that something extraordinary was at work. The pattern was the age-old "Chooks and Beetles," but in Thru's hands it had taken on a fresh life. The rendering was superb, and the chooks had a jauntiness that was almost shocking. She took the "Chooks and Beetles" to show friends who she knew had an interest in the art of woven mats. All were impressed. Thru's reputation spread rapidly, and he received visits from a couple of the merchants of Tamf. By then neither Damora nor Cham was complaining any longer about their daughter's unconventional relationship with Thru Gillo.

Merchant Namp, the bearer of an ancient name in the world of Tamf guilds and politics, came to visit the workroom on South Road. The Grys Namp was a refined soul, and he found the smells on South Road very unpleasant. But when he looked on the work Namp saw at once that the youngster from the Dristen Valley had genuine talent.

"And this is the same work that Norvory of Dronned claimed had been stolen by you?"

"This is my fourth piece of this pattern. My mother always kept a 'Chooks and Beetles' mat in the parlor."

"It is an old, familiar pattern."

"Yes, but I felt it could be taken further."

And Merchant Namp agreed that he had done just that. He offered to buy it at once. Nuza turned him down immediately, and persuaded Thru to show the merchant the "Mussels and Rakes," which was now close to completion, too. Namp felt his eyes widen. It was powerful, original work, and it raised the art by a notch or two. This was work as good as any except that of Mesho and Oromi.

Soon there came a letter from Dronned, this time from Merchant Yadrone. He could take no mats himself, though he hastened to add that his wife had bought a "Leaf" pattern mat and hung it in the inner hall of the house. But traders in Tamf had spread the word that Thru Gillo had woven another "Chooks and Beetles" exactly like that which the Grys Norvory had seized. That Thru Gillo was showing signs of a prodigious talent, and Norvory had been terribly wrong. Norvory had withdrawn from the city to his country estate at Runglin.