'It's lost,' he croaked. 'We can't stand them all off. The War of Powers is lost here and now.' A blackness beyond physical oblivion clutched at him.
He felt Moriana's hand on his shoulder, looked up through red mists of agony. He heard barks, snarls, screams, saw the crowd streaming away to the right, eastward toward The Teeming in which he'd been born. No one had reckoned with Captain Mayft and the outland cavalry. Now they came with lances couched and war dogs snapping left and right and made reckoning of their own with the mob.
Slow and lazy the stained wooden deck rocked beneath Fost's bare feet. He smoothed wet hair from his face, drank in the salt air rich with the tar and cordage smells of the big ship and felt more relaxed than he had in days.
He stood near an opening in the rail. A rope ladder had been let down from the gap to hang just above the dancing green surface of the sea. As he watched, a slim hand reached out of the waves, catching the bottom rung. In a few seconds, Moriana was lithely scaling the side of the ship, shimmering with wetness.
Like him, she wore a minimum of clothing. To a simple loincloth like the one knotted around his waist she had added a brief halter bound about her chest.
'I must say the princess makes an impressive sea sprite,' remarked Erimenes. His jug had been lashed to the railing so that he could watch Fost and Moriana swim without fear of being tossed into the sea by the sway of the ship.
'A good thing this is a Tolvirot craft with a mixed crew,' said Fost. 'If Moriana appeared dressed like that on deck of an Imperial vessel with an all male crew…' He shook his head.
For all that, he found himself appreciating the suppleness of her body and her great beauty. He approved, heartily. 'Have fun with the sharks?' he asked as Moriana stepped on deck.
She nodded, doing a brief dance as her feet accustomed themselves to the heated deck. Fost glanced over the side to where lean, silver shapes knifed through the water. A wedge of fin broke water hard beside the ship. A blunt snout thrust above the surface and a dead-gray eye regarded the deck with inhuman detachment. Fost shivered, but Moriana called out to the creature and waved. It slipped soundlessly into green water and vanished, all thirty feet of it.
'You shouldn't have left the water when they arrived, Fost,' chided Moriana, wringing out her long hair. 'They're very friendly. It's fantastic to ride on one. They're so fast, they move so cleanly, with such strength – it's like being on the back of an eagle, almost.' Her voice dropped and her eyes were troubled. He slipped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her reassuringly, savoring the feel and smell of her tanned flesh.
'Friendly?' He shook his head, grinning. 'I could swim down the throat of that monster without getting scraped on his teeth along the way. And I'm not even sure he would consider me as more than an appetizer served before the main course. I prefer not to take my chances with a beast like that.'
'Perhaps we need such powerful friends.' Her tone was not wholly joking.
'I wonder if it's true what Oracle said,' asked Ziore, hovering at Erimenes's side with her fingers vaporously mingled in his. 'That in the old days the world belonged to the Zr'gsz and the giant lizards and the great furred beasts, the hornbulls and mammoths, that humanity came here from somewhere else and brought certain animals with them, dogs and pigs and sharks and those darling little animals Teom showed us just before we left, the new ones imported from the Far Archipelago. What did he call them? Horses?' Erimenes sneered.
'That's right,' answered Fost, ignoring him. Teom had taken them into the menagerie he kept outside the north wall of the Palace, on the very bluff overlooking the harbor. The Emperor had chattered volubly as if a second attempt on his life and throne had not been crushed in a bloody street battle only two days before. The new acquisitions to his enormous zoo filled him with delight, for they were rare beasts with intriguing legends surrounding them. Indeed, Fost thought they were rather cute. Tiny elfin things, the largest male no more than eighteen inches high at the shoulder. They were built like hornless deer, but their small hooves were continuous, not cloven. They had long silky brush tails and similar manes of hair growing down their necks. Their dished faces held eyes liquid brown and large.
In their last interview with Oracle a little later, Fost had mentioned the beasts. Oracle's eyes lit up.
'I have heard of such,' he said eagerly. 'Do you know the most intriguing legend of all concerning them?' The four had shaken their heads, Erimenes with a crabbed look. He hated being lectured to by someone more knowledgeable.
'It is written in old, old documents that once these creatures called horses grew larger than the biggest war dog, as large as Nevrym unicorn stags, and that they were tamed as dogs are now, to be ridden in travel, the hunt, war.' 'But they're so tiny,' objected Ziore.
'The ones surviving today are. They were a special breed, nurtured by the scholar-priests of the Far Archipelago as objects of amusement and wonder. What happened to the others?' He shrugged imaginary white shoulders. 'What happened to the cattle of olden days, short-coated like riding dogs, with horns set on either side of their heads? The only beast in the world today who wears his horns like that is Istu himself – oh! Your pardon, Princess,' he said to Moriana, who had suddenly colored and dropped her eyes. The mention of the Demon had triggered a train of memories in her that were anything but pleasant.
'I suppose you think all this supports your ridiculous theory that humanity came to the world from another plane of existence,' said Erimenes, elevating his nose to a contemptuous angle.
'I do, in fact. The legends aren't conclusive, but they point strongly to the possibility that we – or you, I suppose – originated elsewhere.'
'It also points strongly to the certainty that our kind is given to flights of imagination,' Fost pointed out, loath to rank himself with Erimenes in debate with Oracle. 'The Archipelagan Reduction states as a matter of principle that the simplest theory to account for a phenomenon is the most likely to be true.' Erimenes turned his sneer on him.
'I'm ashamed to learn you've been taken in by the naive and simpleminded doctrine of Reductionism. We sages of Athalau had more wisdom than that.'
'Did the Athalar sages ever disprove the Reductionist axiom?' Oracle asked with interest.
'Ah, no, not exactly. But there are contentions too patently absurd to require that wise men waste their precious time deigning to disprove them.'
The discussion had gotten tangled in sticky strands of epistemology. Only Moriana remained aloof, lacking the others' interest in abstract knowledge for its own sake. The question of humanity's origin on this world or elsewhere was never solved, unsurprisingly.
Moriana took her place at the ship's rail by Fost's side, pressing her hip against his. He smiled lopsidedly. He didn't dare turn from the rail now, not without revealing the state of his scanty loincloth and displaying to the entire crew of the ship Endeavor the extent of his interest in the nearly naked woman. She sensed his discomfiture – or maybe read it from the surface of his mind. Since recovering Ziore's jug from the glacier-swallowed city of Athalau, Moriana's mental abilities had been increasing. She began to rub her hip slowly back and forth against his, teasing him until he felt as if he would explode. 'You shouldn't start something you don't mean to finish,' he said.
'Why not finish it? You seem to have a good start. A very good one, from what I can see from this angle.' She leaned forward and peered down meaningfully.
His mind tumbled and roiled like a storm-wracked ocean. For no reason, he remembered the conclusion of the final talk with Oracle. The others had gone ahead after offering their farewells. The projection of the 'man' had requested Fost to stay behind. 'Will you win?' Oracle had asked. 'I'd hoped you could tell me,' Fost answered.