They stayed at the inn long enough to eat, bathe and get a bit of rest. Marlena had insisted that they do that much, but the strong insistence of Samson was that they move on as quickly as possible. No one argued. Everyone knew the pressure on the huge man. He had watched one friend die, another disappear, perhaps forever, and a third was now barely hanging on to life by the threads of Avery's healing hands.
Time was of the essence. They had to get Seymore home before he wasted away. Avery could help him live only for so long. Starvation would begin to show on the unconscious man soon enough.
As it was, they left later that day when Keeneye returned with news of transport. They wasted no time in making their way to the dock and when they boarded the strange craft, Marlena, Samson and Avery bedded Seymore's inert form into a small cabin.
"He should be okay here," Avery said as he spread a blanket over his patient. "Just keep him warm and wet his lips about every two hours," he said as he started toward the door.
"Avery," Samson called after him. "Thanks."
The healer stopped and turned around. He started to say something, then thought better of it and settled for a nod of acceptance. He then exited the room and left the two to take care of Seymore.
"Not even a 'you're welcome'," Marlena observed angrily. "You're trying to bury the hatchet and he forgets his manners."
"Total control for the common good," Samson muttered to himself.
"What?"
"Oh, just something Seymore was telling me about Avery once. I think now I finally understand what he meant." Samson put a hand on Seymore's still form. "Thanks," he whispered.
Heineken Thundersledge stood on the rear steering deck of his ship the Westward Cutter watching his passengers load their baggage aboard. He was not thrilled with their destination, the Ice Kingdom, but their money was good. So, if they were willing to go, he was willing to take them. He had made sure to get their pay in advance though.
His passengers seemed all too eager to pay and that had set off a warning bell in his gut that had urged him to send his first mate, a youthful all too eager elf, into town to check their descriptions against the local law's warrants. He wanted no part of being accused of harboring criminals.
Not wanting to waste time, Heineken quietly prepared the huge ice ship for departure. He affixed the halyards and withdrew the runner chocks, but left the moorings in place. The day was quite windy and he didn’t want the ship to drift out by wind power until his apprentice returned.
To pass the time, he quietly observed his passenger's activities. Several wizards and at least one healer made good company for a voyage and the presence of fighters was a bonus and guarantee against pirates from Freon jumping him on the open ice. In addition, there was a woman. With any luck, the dwarf hoped silently, she would be willing to cook. She could hardly do worse than his first mate.
About then, the youth sprang energetically up the gangplank. He quickly informed his mentor that the cities' militia had no reason for detaining their passengers. And, that in addition, the youth had secured departure permission from the harbor patrol.
Heineken patted the youngster on the back and commended him on his foresight. Then sent the lad off to remove the moorings. As the teenage elf darted away, the ship's master walked over to the shelter of the steering deck where the passengers were assembled in the sunlight but out of the wind.
The dwarf informed them of his readiness to depart and asked them to either lend a hand or get below and out of the way until they were well under way.
All but Samson, Avery and Keeneye went below. Keeneye took place at one of the two moorings and the young elf, whom he learned was named Skimmer, took the other. Samson and Avery jointly heaved on the halyard until the wooden airfoil, which acted as a jib, was erected fully upright and caused the mooring line to creak under the strain. With a shout from the captain, Keeneye and Skimmer released the moorings and the ship lurched forward. They drifted smoothly across the harbor until they were clear of the other ships that were moving about. Heineken steered them with precision at a speed comparable to a cantering horse onto the open ice.
With the wind behind them, Avery and Samson secured the line and at Captian Heinekin’s direction, drew up the huge spinnaker until it filled with wind and sent them screaming across the ice faster than any seagoing vessel ever dreamed.
Once underway, the captain and his apprentice took control of the ship while the others came up from below to marvel at the ship's speed. As Samson anchored the halyard line, Avery turned to leave, paused and then said over his shoulder, "You're welcome. That is what friends are for."
Samson smiled. Avery need not have said it. Samson's revelation from Seymore's words had made it clear that Avery would do what he felt was right and expected no thanks for it. Samson himself decided that in spite of the fundamental differences, he was glad to have such a traveling companion. He just had to remember not to discuss philosophy with Avery.
As the ship settled into its routine, Heineken assured his passengers that they would arrive at their destination in a few days time. No one doubted it, for they were sailing faster than the fastest horse could run and faster than some birds fly.
In their usual fit of curiosity, Ultrecht and Armegon spent much of the day in attendance as Skimmer explained how the art of sailing was done. The young elf took great care in pointing out that a good iceboat like theirs had a hull that was shaped to produce lift as it moved, thereby making the craft lighter as it moved. By reducing sail, they could slow down and turn. But at high speeds, their turning capability was quite limited. Only at slow speeds were ice boats maneuverable.
Later that afternoon, Armegon sat near the bow of the ship smoking a pipe and exhaling the visible smoke into the slipstream around the vessel. He watched with earnest as the smoke outlined the airflow around the hull.
For two days, the Westward Cutter shot through the night like a runaway crossbow bolt. Heineken and Skimmer took turns manning the helm and even Norwind convinced Heineken to allow him to steer for a while.
"Who are you and your friends running from?" Heineken asked Norwind.
"And just who said we were running from someone?" Norwind returned.
"It wasn't too hard to guess," Heineken accused playfully. The two had built a tentative trust and rapport over the few hours they had known each other.
"I think you guessed wrong," Norwind said as he looked up from the compass he was following.
Heineken pointed down at the instrument indicating that Norwind should keep his attention to the task of navigation. "Okay then. I believe you." Heineken glanced up into his sails. "This is a good wind," he said. "We will make good time tonight. Perhaps we shall see land by morning."
"I will be sorry," Norwind said. "I find that I like this mode of travel."
"Well, you certainly have caught on quickly enough," Heineken commented. "If you ever have need of a job, I'll take you on."
"Thanks, captain. I'll remember that."
"May I ask how you will return from your trip to the Ice Kingdom?"
"I don't think we have planned that far ahead yet, why?"
"Because I may as well wait for you until you return. I won't get any freight there."
"Why not?"
"Because, my good elf, that place is prejudice against non-humans. The only thing they think I am good for is hauling manure and sewage."
"Oh, great!" Norwind howled into the wind, "I am a passenger on a dung shipper's craft."
"Negative, pointy-ears," Heineken said through clenched teeth. He apparently was not amused by Norwind's jest. "I would never permit this ship to be used for that purpose."
"Of course not Heinny, old beard. I was just teasing. The Cutter is far too classy for that."
"Thank you, Windy," Heineken said with a wink to show his good humor. "But if it's all the same to you, I think Skimmer and I would like to be your passage back home for, let us say, for a reduced rate?"
"Well, I will talk to the others about it, but I think they will agree." Norwind turned the helm over to the captain and wandered off to the lower decks out of the wind.
The next morning found a light breeze driving the sleek ship steadily northward. Most of the passengers were near the end of the bow of the ship looking out across the glassy plain at the dark line of land that had appeared with the morning sun. The captain had assured them that they would make land within an hour of midday. But he also warned that many of them would not be welcome as non-humans and suggested a disguise that would be acceptable to the pro-human society. By the time they reached the port, the captain had brought the vessel to a complete stop by lowering several sandbags from astern until they dragged behind. They were met by the kingdom's harbor patrolman and a customs agent.
"Greetings, captain," the pilot said as he and the customs agent stepped aboard. "Do you have anything to declare?"
Heineken removed his hat and bowed. "I thank you for your hospitality," he said with as much sincerity as he could muster. "I regret that I carry no goods to trade with her majesty's merchants, but allow me to introduce the Lady Marlena." Heineken waved his hand majestically. "My ship is under charter of this most excellent Baroness of Seron, her consort, master Okmar; her adviser, the most honorable Ultrecht; and four slaves." With the last introduction he lazily motioned toward the passengers of elven ancestry.
Marlena stepped forward and addressed the officials as if they were insects. Heineken had been very insistent that she should act this way in order that she should be accepted by the Ice Kingdom's society. "Gentlemen," she said with a hint of irritation, "the cold is not to my liking and I have business in town. Would it be too much to ask if we could proceed to shore?"
"Of course, dear lady," the government official said with a slight bow. "If you will vouch for those aboard we can dispense with the formalities."
Marlena returned the honor. "All those here are either in my party or are part of the ship's crew."
"Is anyone below?"
"Only the ship's mate, a man who was injured last night when a boom tether came loose," she said. "He is still unconscious."
The pilot was satisfied, but the customs agent insisted on searching the ship for smuggled goods.
Marlena made a good act of an impatient noble woman who would forgive only a small delay and submitted to the inspection.
The customs agent was quick. He had long ago learned not to antagonize a female noble in a land ruled by a matriarch. He searched only long enough to verify that the ship's hold was indeed empty and the only other passenger was unconscious. He was a little more civil when he returned to the upper deck. "Her majesty welcomes you to the Ice Kingdom, my lady." It was an obvious grant of passage, and when the agent disembarked, the pilot and Heineken started the craft toward the dockyards.
After mooring the Cutter, Heineken sent Skimmer to the harbormaster's office with some money to pay for the berth's rent. In addition, he had included enough cash to purchase immunity from the thieves guild.
It was a customary thing in this country since the thieves guild and the pirates league were one and the same. Heineken did not want to return from scaring up some supplies and find his ship missing. He knew if he made the tribute to the guild, his ship would not intentionally be damaged or taken. The thieves guild was the only organization in the Ice Kingdom with any shred of honor. In fact, he knew that his young elven first mate was a member, even though the boy tried to hide it.
While Skimmer was gone, Heineken spoke to Marlena. "I will stay here and watch over your companion. If his condition worsens, I will get him to a healer. He is human so I don't think I will have much trouble with that. I recommend keeping the baroness and slave act until you are out of the urban areas. If asked, you are traveling to pay your respects to the queen. That is east of here, but there is an indirect passage that goes north to one of the minor duchies then turns east. Take that road. When it turns east, keep going north. That is all I can tell you about the Oracle's location."
Marlena thanked him and gathered her court about her. She instructed them that she would spend the day in the village and sleep in an inn. The slaves were to purchase supplies and pack animals for their journey to the palace, then join her. Knowing fully well that they were probably being watched, all agreed to her will as if she were their mistress.
The rest of the day Marlena and her personal servants, Keeneye and Avery, exchanged gemstones for gold and purchased travel supplies. She had them carrying some things that Avery had mumbled to Keeneye were entirely unnecessary. At this remark, Marlena chastised Avery for his insolence at the top of her lungs in the middle of the street.
Stunned by her outburst, Avery's mouth hung open until in the midst of her ravings, she winked. Suddenly, both slaves understood her actions. After a scene like that, no one would doubt their mistress and slave act. Both slaves bowed their heads in either respect to their mistress or in an effort to stifle their snickering. No doubt Marlena was going to enjoy her role.
Samson and his servant, Norwind, purchased horses and survival gear. It would have been more appropriate to let Avery or Keeneye do this part, but as Samson had reasoned, elves and rangers who knew too much about survival would blow their cover as slaves. Secretly, he took pleasure in this act.
Ultrecht too was enjoying the act too. Armegon, however, was fretting up a storm in the slave's rags he had been given. As they shopped for magical supplies, Armegon had on several occasions begged of his master to purchase him some better clothing. Finally, Ultrecht purchased an old, but wearable robe for his servant.
That night at the inn while the humans slept in comfort, the slaves slept in the stables. Samson had explained that it was a local custom, and it was necessary to keep up the disguise.
As they bedded down in the loft, Armegon complained about the comfort or lack thereof. Keeneye commented about someone getting soft in his old age. Armegon's reply was a chunk of dried manure to the back of the elf's head.
As the fun and games died down and the lights were out, Armegon rolled over and looked at Avery. His lifelong friend was about three feet away and covered up to his neck in straw. They had only known each other for several hundred years. And, though they were only halfelves, with considerably shorter lifespans than that of Keeneye and Norwind, they still had a lot of life left in them.
"I am not old," he said out loud as if to reassure himself. But all it really produced was a noise that suspiciously resembled a laugh from the other side of the room.
The next morning the baroness and her court departed by way of the north road. As midday approached, they were far from population and being alone they decided that it was probably safe to lower their cover, but to be on the safe side they decided to keep up the charade as far as the clothing was concerned. So although their costumes were uncomfortable, they were maintained, even if the slave and master act wasn't.
However, it was still Samson who led the party as they continued north. Samson had made some inquiries in town and learned that the road continued north for about three days then turned east.
There were a few encounters along the way. And as soon as they detected someone coming, they quickly reverted to their act and had the non-humans walking the horse while the humans rode. None of the passers-by gave the sight a second thought.
They were of somewhat good spirits as they traveled—all except for Armegon, that is. The halfelven sorcerer’s teeth ground audibly every time he had to put on his slave act. But Armegon’s dilemma only served to humor everyone else.
The road was always better to travel on than through the forest, and as they continued north, they slowly moved into the foothills of the mountain range said to house the Oracle they sought. Near the end of the third day, just after passing through a small village, the road they traveled on made a sharp turn to the east.
After some discussion, it was decided to continue for about a mile further north into the forest then to stop for the night. They quickly transformed into their wilderness clothing, and the slave act, much to Armegon's satisfaction, was terminated. Anyone they encountered in the forest would probably not care about social images anyhow, they reasoned.
Ultrecht, Avery and Armegon had spent several hours upon the road discussing the climate and plant life of the region. Avery was sure that the temperature was not below the freezing point of water, yet there was snow everywhere, and the rivers and oceans were frozen over. It had been Ultrecht who had answered the mystery. He revealed that he had spoken to an alchemist in town. The alchemist had explained the planet's unusual chemistry to him. It seemed that the water in the far northern areas froze at a high temperature and melted very slowly. In addition, the plant life had adapted to the semi-perpetual winter by growing very rapidly in the short summer, which came every tenth cycle of the small moon.
The alchemist had further explained that the small moon had a synodic period of one year and when summer came, it was for a whole cycle of the small moon. During that time, the plants and trees grew at a fantastic rate, only to freeze solid in the prime of their life, perfectly preserved when the nine year winter returned.
Marlena had been thrilled when she had examined one of the evergreens next to the road and found that it was covered with a thin layer of ice. When she plucked a frozen berry from a nearby bush, the ice covering shattered, leaving a tasty snack in her hand. The ecology was very impressive and unusual.
They passed through the strange forest land cautiously, for as Keeneye had observed, the miraculous preservation system also provided an easy means for tracking prey. The slightest brush against a bush left a marker that could not easily be removed.
The pace was relatively quick considering they had to push through about two feet of snow. In addition to freezing at a high temperature, the snow had a tendency to pack itself down and the group found snowshoes were not necessary. Norwind had remarked that it was not unlike walking in cold sand.
The wintry yet comfortable scenery made the general mood seem joyous and upbeat on the happy side. The relative safety of being alone and unobserved in the wilderness allowed them to let their guard down a little bit and enjoy the journey. There was even a small snowball fight to accompany the setting up of camp. The night was so peaceful and refreshing that by morning, no complaints could be heard.
"It is too bad this place is ruled by an evil matriarch," said Keeneye. He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled it. "I wouldn't mind staying in a land such as this."
Samson stood upon a large rock and peered north. "How much farther will we have to travel?"
Keeneye joined him and then after some thought said: "About three days."
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