Trell knew that was because the Tran buildings were made mostly of stone and they had not yet mastered the art of constructing the dome. So any structure with a large open interior, such as the storehouse, was far less stable than those cut into smaller rooms and chambers whose inner walls served to support the roof. The Tran did not have the material for enclosing large areas.
Structural metals and plastics were required. The Tran knew nothing of plastics, and would never have considered wasting precious metal on construction, save for an occasional bolt or nail.
In fact, the only metal of consequence in any Arsudun building and possibly on all of Tran-ky-ky—except within the humanx station—was the double, solid brass door which now formed the entrance to the Landgrave’s castle built back of the town. When the sun was right, one could see reflection down in the harbor.
It had been an inspired gift on Trell’s part. The modest cost had been more than repaid in less tangible but far more valuable ways by the grateful Landgrave of Arsudun, Callonnin Ro-Vijar. Ways that ought to be preserved.
Trell turned to the Tran standing next to him. “I understand, friend Ro-Vijar, that some of my people, the newcomers who arrived on the great ice ship, were involved in a very nasty fight in a city tavern.” He indicated the harbor, where the towering masts of the Slanderscree rose above all other.
“I heard similar reports.” The Landgrave of Arsudun performed the Trannish equivalent of a helpless shrug. “Outsiders are not popular here. Does this news disturb you?”
“It does disturb me,” replied Trell. “It disturbs me, my friend, because it took place here, where news of it could reach other humans, including members of my own staff If harm befell any humans so close to the outpost, it could create trouble. I could be discredited among my superiors. That could lead to disagreeable meddling by my government in the salubrious commercial covenants we have concluded here.”
“That is to be avoided.” Ro-Vijar kicked at the light snow. Sharp chiv sent bright flakes flying. “It is rumored that these newcomers talk of organizing a large number of independent states to apply for higher status within your government, your Commonwealth.”
“So it’s rumored.” Trell smiled behind the face mask. Of course, it was he who had informed Ro-Vijar of the strangers’ plans, but both men enjoyed their subtle word-play. It was a good habit, just in case anyone else happened to overhear.
“If they were to succeed in such an endeavor,” the Landgrave continued, “would it not mean that any from the outlying regions could come and trade freely with many different representatives of your own island states?”
“Merchant families,” Trell corrected him, “not island states. But the effect would be the same. Personally, I don’t feel that’s necessary. The present commercial arrangements are satisfactory to all concerned. Unless you think someone other than myself can supervise our trade better.”
“I too, find the existing understandings agreeable.”
They fell silent then, each absorbed in furious thinking while ostensibly concentrating on the construction which continued below them. Noisy crews raised the first new wall, bracing the unfamiliar prestressed plastic against the wind. Once it was molded in place, the work could proceed rapidly behind the windbreak it would provide.
“What then is to be done, friend Trell? Can you yourself do nothing?”
“I’m afraid not, my friend. I can conceal credits and crates and alter listings and manifests. Three citizen corpses would be dangerous to try and make disappear. Yet we must do something… and not clumsily visible, this time.
“These three humans are strangers to Arsudun, but not to your world, Landgrave. They have lived among the Tran for many months. They are intelligent. Their grasp of your language and nuances is firmer than that of my own specialists. While I am informed that a union such as they contemplate is extremely unlikely, they should not be given the opportunity to prove my xenologists wrong. They should be discouraged.”
“Discouraged,” echoed the Landgrave, mimicking the human vowels as best he could. “But not here. I understand. As soon as they are fairly on their way, I will muster the best arguments at my disposal.”
“I’m sure they’ll be effective.”
Both turned back to watch as the second wall was raised into place and the human engineers commenced heat-sealing the corner where they joined. Nothing more was mentioned about the Slanderscree’s crusading crew. Nothing more needed to be. While they were of different races, they understood one another perfectly…
“What do you know about this Poyolavomaar?” Ethan held onto a shroud as he spoke to Ta-hoding. They were making their laborious way southward from Arsudun harbor, tacking into a stiff breeze.
“Only what the other captains on the icefront told me, friend Ethan. Four stars to port!” Responding to his command, the two burly helmsmen fought to turn the huge wooden wheel. A screeching sound slightly higher than usual came from the stern of the immense icerigger as the fifth duralloy runner, used to steer the vessel, cut sideways into the ice. Slowly the ship came around to a new heading.
For several days now they had been racing parallel to the island of Arsudun. They’d already covered, by Williams’ estimates, over a hundred kilometers. It was evident that Arsudun was many, many times the size of Sofold, Hunnar and Ta-hoding’s home island.
The lowlands around the city and harbor had long since given way to cliffs which rose steeply from the ice to heights of thirty meters or more. Trees and shrubs grew to the edge of the cliffs, forming an uneven fringe at their tops, making the weaving cliffline resemble the spine of a nervous green cat.
“You told me,” Ta-hoding went on, “we should begin our quest with some nearby yet important state. All of the captains and merchants I talked to agreed that Poyolavomaar was the most powerful in this region save Arsudun itself. It sounds like an interesting city to visit.”
Safely clear of other ships, Ta-hoding was feeling conversational. “According to Zho Midan-Gee, the captain who was most helpful to me, Poyolavomaar is a cluster of ten or more closely grouped and very steep islands. He said they are so near to one another that all but the very youngest cubs can safely chivan from one to the next. Having made two trips there himself in past years, he most remembers that these islands form a circle, enclosed island to island by great walls much like the one which protects our own harbor at Wannome.”
“It sounds very much like a place that could develop into a center of commerce,” Ethan admitted.
Ta-hoding made a gesture of agreement. “Trade is the most important business there, Midan-Gee told me. If the walls all have gates, a captain could take his ship out of the enclosed harbor in any direction he chose, without worrying about where he would pick up a trailing wind.
“Still we must remember that many of these captains produce much of their own wind,” Ta-hoding said portentously, blithely excluding himself from the company of ice-going prevaricators. “They like to boast of their abilities and expertise. This Poyolavomaar may be nought but a cluster of metal-poor villages. Yet I think Midan-Gee as honest as most and am inclined to trust him.”
“We have to trust someone,” Ethan reminded him.
Ta-hoding studied the setting sun. The thermonuclear candle was almost straight ahead, its flaming upper curve beginning to settle beneath the martingale of the ship. He glanced down at something set just behind the great wheel.