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dreadfully thin. And much of that seemed to be clothing.
For their part the little knot of humans was suitably im-pressed by Sir Hunnar himself. But then, the
knight was an impressive specimen even among his own people. He stood as tall as September and was
nearly twice as broad. Great thick arms ended in hands with three fingers and thumb. These supported
folded membranous wings between wrist and hip.
The feet were short, with thick, elongated toes. Each of the three toes held a greatly stretched single
claw that narrowed to a sharp blade at the base, forming a kind of triple skate on each foot. The fourth
toe was short and had shifted around to the back of the heel. It sported a squat, stubby point that served
as a brake when dug into the ice.
While traveling toward the lifeboat, the tran had presented a shorter appearance. This because they
moved in a crouch, offering less surface in proportion to wing area. It also helped to maintain balance in
the tricky winds.
The barrel-chested torso was covered with short, soft fur. Each soldier wore a thick coat of rich, umber
fur from the hessavar. This was cinched at the waist by a belt of hammered gold disks and tooled leather.
A short, double-bladed sword was strapped securely to Hunnar's left leg. An evil-looking dirk rode on
his right hip.
A necklace of ugly saw-edged teeth from the krokim fell from the thick neck onto the coat. The hood
closely resem-bled the hoods of their own survival parkas, with the exception of twin slits made to admit
the furry, triangular ears. A strap ran around the front edge of the hood and tied beneath the chin to keep
the wind from pulling it off the wearer's head.
The face that stared down at them was uncompromisingly feline, with slitted eyes of bright yellow. The
pupils were a startling deep-space black. A broad flat nose, high brow, and wide mouth filled with flat
and pointed teeth completed the portrait. The trap were omnivorous.
Body fur was steel-gray, a couple of the soldiers sporting patches of black over the muzzle and at the
tips of the ears. One other besides Hunnar possessed a short beard. Hunnar's beard and facial fur were
distinctive in their rust-tinge, almost ochre.
"Say something to 'em, young feller," whispered Septem-ber out of the side of his mouth.
Ethan hurriedly tried to assemble a proper opening sen-tence, dropping verbs into place, shoring up
uncertainties with the right pronouns.
"We are a ... uh ... caravan that has lost its sails," he began. "The wind blew us false and we travel now
on the breath of mercy." He took two careful steps onto the ice -this was no time for a pratfall-and stood
on tiptoe. Then he took a deep breath and exhaled right into the native's face, praying all the while that
none off the germs in his body could effect this mountain of fur in front of him.
Everyone remained motionless for a moment. Then the ferocious-looking primitive relaxed his mouth into
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a wide grin -without showing his teeth. He leaned over and breathed a fog of frozen air back into Ethan's
face.
"My breath is your warmth," he said, not with a little relief himself. At least these strangers were civilized.
Tactical ad-vantage or no, he was gratified that a fight didn't seem in the offing.
" Put up your lances," he instructed the others. "They ap-pear to be friendly." The last wasn't really
necessary. They'd all heard Ethan's little speech and observed the greeting.
"We are very trusting today," Suaxus grumbled, but mostly to himself. He did not relax.
The tran eased, retracting their blades almost entirely. At that point Ethan almost made a fatal mistake.
"Would you like to go inside our ship," he offered smoothly, "and get out of this infernal wind?"
Hunnar jerked back and two of his men reached for their swords. He wished he could read the alien's
expression.
"Why?" Hunnar asked tightly, his palm itching, for his own weapon. "Why would we want to get out of
the wind?" he prompted, since the other seemed dumbstruck by their reac-tion.
"I think I understand," said Ethan finally. "Where we come from, up there," and he pointed skyward,
"our world is much warmer than this. Your unending hurricane is hard on us. I didn't think you'd regard it
otherwise. Honest, that's all I thought." The soldiers relaxed again. Hunnar didn't bother to correct the
alien's reasoning. Leaving ice and wind would take away their small tactical advantage. But it seemed the
other was truly ignorant of this.
"I accept your words," he said, "but find some of them hard to believe. This is a very pleasant summer
day. One could even travel comfortably coatless. But in truth, I would like to see the inside of your
vessel."
He'd put that awfully crudely, after his initial reaction. But that was one of their prime objectives. He was
a knight and not a herald, dammit.
"It would make things easier for us," Ethan replied. "Of course you may."
September clambered into the windswept boat, leaned out and gave Ethan a hand up.
"I caught most of that," he said softly. "Why did that line about 'getting out of the. wand' put them on
guard at first?"
"I don't know," Ethan answered, struggling for a foothold. He got in, turned to help Williams.
"No, wait, I think I do know. Obviously this is a bunch of local troops, or militia, or whatever. Once out [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]