As it turned out, everyone finished the ascent. Colette’s fear of the black abyss to one side was openly evident. Ethan felt no shame in joining her in hugging the mountainside.
Much to everyone’s distraction, Elfa insisted on running and skipping alongside the inadequate stone railing, not to mention leaning over the edge and pointing out this or that unusual feature in the depths below.
Once, laughing, she even climbed onto the rail itself. She walked along the narrow stone coping, teetering on the lip of the drop. Ethan couldn’t watch her. It didn’t go on for long, because Hunnar threatened to tie her wrists to her ankles and drag her the rest of the way up.
She grumbled, but climbed down—to everyone’s immense relief.
Once they’d passed through the first dark hallway, Fahdig led them upwards via a different route than the one they’d first traversed. They passed a long, comfortable-looking room and he indicated the beds neatly lined against both walls inside.
“For tonight,” he informed them unnecessarily.
There was no wall fireplace. Instead, a central pit was sunk into the center of the floor and filled with logs and brash. Just above the pit a large wooden funnel lined with copper narrowed into a long black pipe that disappeared into the ceiling.
In one respect, then, these isolated scholars were ahead of the busy commercial port of Wannome. They’d developed a rudimentary form of real heating. It was more efficient than a fireplace—provided all the waste particles went up the funnel and not onto one’s bed. Several windows in the east wall would let in the morning light. Lamps and torches were mounted on the walls. With the single door shut it would be very comfortable.
“Very pleasant-looking dormitory,” complimented September. “Is this how you fellas live?”
“Oh no,” Fahdig replied. “Each of the Brothers has his own small vestibule. This is a study room.”
“With beds?”
“In a gesture of friendship, some among the Brotherhood have given up their beds for the night. They will sleep on pallets. Tis good for the body and the mind, now and then. Tables and chairs normally fill this room. They will return when you have departed.”
“That’s very considerate of you,” said Ethan. “We’re sorry to put you to so much trouble.”
“Hospitality is never trouble,” their imperturbable guide replied. “If you will come this way, please.”
They continued down the hall and went up one more level, where Fahdig motioned them into another room. They seemed to be in one of the highest levels of the monastery. Evening light poured in from the huge skylight that occupied most of the ceiling.
Ethan wondered if the beautiful skylights had been developed and built by the scholars themselves or if they were a bit of art once known but long forgotten in Wannome. There was no way of telling, and it might not be good manners to ask.
The table was long and simple. So were the foods that other members of the Brotherhood were setting on it. The Prior sat at the head of the table with several other elderly tran. Williams and Eer-Meesach were there to greet them. The little schoolmaster fairly exploded out of his seat when they entered. He walked straight to Ethan.
“My dear friend, you have no idea, no idea what a treasure-house this place is! Malmeevyn and I have been overwhelmed by one amazing volume after another. Some of the older books stored here go back literally thousands of years… or so Malmeevyn tells me. There’s much I can’t translate. The books themselves are astonishing. But the amount of pure information and data stored inside… it would take a hundred xenologists years with a good computer just to properly document and catalogue the material the Brotherhood holds.”
“I don’t want to dampen your enthusiasm,” replied Ethan, gazing at the fresh vegetables set in front of him with similar excitement, “but we’ll only be here another day. The repairs will be completed by then and we’ll be on our way back to civilization. You remember civilization?”
“Not with overwhelming fondness, Ethan. You’re right, of course. But the things we have discovered already… did you realize that at one time this world averaged a hundred-fifty degrees warmer? There was ice only at the poles. For some reason the climate changed suddenly. The seas froze and most of the land was pressed beneath the water. It was yesterday, geologically speaking.”
“That’s interesting,” agreed Ethan absently, his stomach growling for attention. He took a seat.
“And besides that…” Williams stopped, his tone changing to one of admonishment. “You weren’t even listening. You’re like the others, only interested in liquor and money and women.”
“Look, Milliken, I’m fascinated. But I’m also starving after those two climbs. Later, huh?” He fastened his gaze on the platter of steaming meat that magically appeared in front of him.
Williams ignored him and stalked away. He took his seat and seemed to forget the conversation entirely as he plunged into debate with Eer-Meesach. They might have been alone at the table.
They quieted, however, when the Prior raised a clawed old paw and gestured for silence. Ethan hadn’t expected a pre-meal prayer. What he got was just that, and a curious something else.
“We eat of the product of resourcefulness and thought,” said the Prior solemnly. “Our reason says that this is so. May the Brotherhood never falter in its purpose, nor its strength diminish, so that we may forever continue to hold back the ravages of the Dark One.”
That was all. Then the other Brothers—not servants, but members of the society acting in that capacity tonight—began to pass around the plates of meat, vegetables, and baked foods.
Ethan tried several dishes, found them bland but filling.
Hunnar and the two squires fidgeted noticeably at this polite departure from normal table manners. They were not used to eating in a restrained manner. Here, the “he who gets there firstest gets the bestest” theorem did not apply. They managed to keep from attacking the table and allowed themselves to be served like all the others.
For a while, then, no one did anything but eat. The members of the Brotherhood seemed willing to permit matters to continue that way.
But gradually, as stomachs were filled, thoughts other than of consumption occupied the minds of those seated around the table and they began to ask questions.
With Hunnar doing most of the talking, they explained to their attentive hosts how they fought and defeated the Horde, how they came to build the great ice clipper, and their subsequent use of a herd of thunder-eaters to destroy the remainder of the Horde.
When it came to the origin of the humans, Ethan thought a few of the Brothers looked more than just casually interested. One was unabashedly fascinated by the bowdlerized version of their initial landing and first contacts with Hunnar’s folk.
September chipped in with occasional comments and corrections. The du Kanes continued to eat and listen in silence. And the two wizards were off in their own private world, oblivious to human and tran alike.
“An amazing account,” commented the Prior finally, with becoming control. “And one that should be set down for the records… even though some of it taxes the credulity. Alas, you maintain you have not the time.”
“I’m afraid not,” said September, not at all contrite. “We ought to and will be on our way again as soon as repairs on the raft are completed.”
“What a shame,” the Prior added. He sipped easily of a mild brew from his large earthen mug. “Twould make a fine subject for a poem, would it not, Brother Hodjay?”