“I don’t think they resolved anything,” said Haplo. Grundle shook her head. “Alake’s right. The One sent you to us. I will ask the One to help you.”
“The same One whose oath I swore?” asked Haplo.
“What else?” said Grundle, looking at him in astonishment. “The One who guides the waves, of course.”
The dwarf dashed out the door, her short legs pumping as she ran off into the night. He watched the small figure bob among the campfires, saw that she would easily outdistance her parents. Yngvar’s anger carried him along at a swift pace, but Haplo guessed the rotund king would soon get winded. Grundle would reach the cave in plenty of time to replace the sack of potatoes with her own stout body, save lover Hartmut from having his beard cut off or whatever form of punishment was measured out to guards derelict in their duties. Haplo turned from the door, flung himself on his pallet, stared into the darkness. He thought about the dwarves and their reliance on this One, wondered if he could somehow use this to his advantage.
“The One who guides the waves’!” he repeated, amused. He closed his eyes, relaxed. Sleep began to sever the ties that bound brain to body, snipping them one by one to let the mind drift free until dawn would catch it, drag it back. But before the last cord was cut, Haplo heard an echo of Grundle’s words in his mind. But it wasn’t the dwarf’s voice that spoke them. The words seemed, in fact, to come to him out of a very bright white light, and they were slightly different.
The One who guides the Wave.
Haplo blinked, jerked to wakefulness. He sat up, stared into the darkness of his lodge.
“Alfred?” he demanded, then wondered irritably why he should have the feeling the Sartan was present.
He lay back down, shoved the dwarves, Alake, the Sartan, the One, the dragon-snakes, and whoever else was crowded into his lodge out into the night, and gave himself up to sleep.
21
The elves were two cycles late—to the surprise of no one, except possibly Haplo.
Dumaka hadn’t expected Eliason that soon, was astonished beyond measure when the dolphins brought word that the elves were sailing into Phondran waters. He sent everyone in the village into a mad scramble to open, clean out, and prepare the elven guesthouses.
These houses were special, having been built exclusively to house the elves, who—like the dwarves—demanded special arrangements. For example, no elf would consider sleeping on the ground. This was not a matter of comfort. Long ago, elven alchemists, perhaps in a vain attempt to try to harness the drifting seasun, had discovered the nature of the chemical reaction between seasun and seamoon that produced the breathable air surrounding the moons. The chemical reaction, so the alchemists deduced, took place between the surface of the seamoon and the seasun. The next logical step was that a similar reaction would naturally take place between anything that rested on the surface for any length of time—this included elves or any other living creature.
Only inanimate objects were ever permitted to rest on the ground in the elven kingdom, and then the most valuable of these was moved periodically to prevent any unfortunate alteration.[35] Animals that slept on the ground were not encouraged in Elmas and had been gradually phased out, in favor of birds, monkeys, cats, all those who live in trees.
Elves will eat no food that has been grown on the ground or in it. They will not stand long in one place, nor stand long at all, if they can help it, but will sit down and pull their feet up into the chair.
One of the earliest and most devastating wars between the Phondrans and the Elmas was the War of the Bed. An elven prince had traveled to human lands to open negotiations to avert a war. All went well until the human chieftain led the elf to his quarters for the night. The elf took one look at the pallet spread on the bare ground, assumed the human was out to murder him,[36] and declared war on the spot.
Since then, humans and elves have come to respect, if not agree with, each other’s beliefs. Elven guesthouses in Phondra are furnished with crude beds made of tree limbs lashed together with rope. And, in their own homelands, the elves have learned to avert their eyes when their human guests take the blankets from the bed and spread them out on the floor. (Eliason had even ceased the practice of attempting to shift his sleeping human guests into beds without their knowledge, ever since one fell out during the night and broke his arm.)
The guest quarters in the village were barely finished by the time the elven ship docked. Dumaka and Delu were on hand to greet their guests. Yngvar was there, as well, though the dwarven contingent and the humans kept well apart. Grundle and Alake were present, but separated, each standing with her own family.
The rift between the two races had deepened. Both sets of parents forbade their daughters to talk to one another. Haplo, seeing the two girls exchange secretive, flashing-eyed glances, guessed just how long that rule would be obeyed. He hoped grimly that they wouldn’t get caught, precipitate another crisis. At least, the enforced separation had given Alake something else to think about besides the Patryn. He supposed he should be grateful. The royal families greeted each other with every show of friendship—for the sake of their followers. Dumaka included Haplo as a highly honored guest and the Patryn was at least relieved to note that even the dwarf thawed out somewhat in Haplo’s presence. But none of them could hide the fact that they were not meeting in peace as they would have normally. Handshakes were formal and stiff, voices were cold and carefully modulated. No one called anyone by his or her given name.
Haplo could have cheerfully drowned every one of them.
The dolphins had been the cause of this latest trouble. They had gleefully carried the news about the dwarves refusing to travel in the sun-chaser to the elves. Eliason was disposed to side with Dumaka, although, elflike, he had sent word that he would not be rushed into making a decision. This pleased neither. Consequently, Eliason had managed to anger both dwarves and humans before he even arrived.
All of which caused Haplo to literally gnash his teeth in frustration. He had one bit of consolation and it was negative—the dragon-snakes were nowhere to be seen. He was afraid the sight of the formidable creatures might harden the dwarves’ determination against them.
A time for a meeting was set, later that evening, and then Yngvar and his contingent stomped off.
Eliason looked after the angry dwarf sadly, shook his head. “What is to be done?” he asked Dumaka.
“I have no idea,” the human chieftain growled. “If you ask me, his beard’s grown into his brain. He claims he and his people would rather freeze to death than set foot on the sun-chasers. They probably would, too. They’re just stubborn enough.”
Haplo, unobtrusive and silent, kept his distance, but lingered near, hoping to hear something that would help him figure out what to do.
Dumaka put a hand on Eliason’s shoulder. “I am sorry, my friend, to add this trouble to the heavy burden of your sorrow. Although,” he added, studying the elf intently, “you carry it better than I would have thought possible.”
“I had to let the dead go,” replied Eliason softly, “in order to look after the living.”
The young elf, Devon, stood on the pier, staring out over the water. Alake was beside him, talking to him earnestly. Grundle, with a wistful glance at both of them, had been dragged off by her parents.
35
One reason the elves are extremely amenable to the constantly shifting nature of their coral dwellings. All furniture, clothing, bedding, and suchlike would have to be moved anyway.
36
It is a widely held belief among the Elmas that the short life span of humans is due entirely to their unfortunate habit of sleeping on the ground. Phondrans, on the other hand, view the tall elven beds with horror, are terrified that they will roll off in the night and kill themselves. The Gargan find the entire argument ridiculous. As long as there is solid stone above him, a dwarf could sleep standing on his head. Unfortunately, however, this is one reason many dwarves do not travel comfortably by ship.