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brought them along to remind me of home, and of the sea. Whenever the longing
grew too great, I could always reach into my pocket and rub the pebbles
against each other, listen to them scrape and clink. He handed the sack to
Stanager.  Once when I was much younger a trader came to the village from far
to the south, farther away even than Askaskos. A friend of mine was playing
jump-rock outside his house with some pebbles like these. Passing by, the
trader happened to see and admire them. He offered my friend s family some
fine things in exchange. After receiving approval from Asab, the trade was
made. He gestured for the
Captain to open the sack.
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Into the Thinking Kingdoms: Journeys of the Catechist, Book 2
 If they were valuable to a trader who had come all the way from south of
Askaskos, maybe they will have some value to you as well. He hesitated.
 Though I would be sorry to have to give up my little memory bag.
Stanager was considerate if not hopeful. Taking pity on the lanky foreigner,
she pulled the drawstring that closed the neck of the little cloth bag and
turned it upside down. The double handful of pebbles promptly spilled out onto
the tabletop. Struck by the light that poured in through the ports, the
pebbles sparkled brightly. They were rough and sea-tossed, with most of the
edges worn off them.
Simna s eyes opened so wide they threatened to pop right out of his head and
roll egglike across the table. Like little else, his reaction did not escape
the Captain s notice.
 So, Owl-eyes, you think these pebbles are valuable too?
Recovering quickly, the swordsman looked away and exhaled indifferently.  Hoy,
what? Oh, perhaps a little. I know very little about such things. To me
they re nothing remarkable, but I believe my friend is right when he says that
they might have some value.
 I see. Her gaze flicked sharply from one man to the other. 
Ayesh, I am no expert on  pebbles either, but my supercargo knows a good deal
about stones and their value. We will soon learn if these are worth
anything or if you are trying to cozen me with stories. Pushing back in her
seat, she yelled toward the open doorway.  Terious! Find old Broch and send
him down here!
They waited in silence, the Captain of the
Grömsketter in all her stern-faced beauty, Ehomba smiling hopefully, and Simna
gazing off into the distance with studied indifference.
 What are you gaping at, little man? an irritated Stanager finally asked the
swordsman.
 Hoy, me? Why nothing, Captain, nothing at all. I believe I was momentarily
stunned, is all.
She chuckled softly.  The last man who tried to compliment his way into my
berth found himself traveling in the bilges until we reached the town of
Harynbrogue. By that time he was so ready to get off the
Grömsketter he didn t much care what I or anyone else look like. You could
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smell him making his way into town even after he was well off the ship.
Simna adopted an expression so serious Ehomba had to turn away to smother a
laugh.  Why Captain, you wrong me deeply! Such a notion would never cross my
mind! Solemnly, he placed one hand over his heart.  Know that I have taken a
vow of celibacy until we have successfully concluded our journey, and that
every member of this crew, be they male or female, need have no concerns along
such lines when in my presence.
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Into the Thinking Kingdoms: Journeys of the Catechist, Book 2
Stanager was still smiling.  I think you are one of the more notable liars I
have ever hosted on this ship, but since you will in all likelihood be off it
in a few moments, your dubious protestations of innocence do not matter. She
turned as a figure darkened the doorway.  Broch, come in.
Weatherbeaten as a spar at the end of its useful life, the supercargo entered
on bowed legs. He was even shorter than Simna, and considerably thinner. But
the wrinkled, leathery brown skin on his arms covered a lean musculature that
resembled braided bullwhips. His fulsome beard was gray with a few remaining
streaks of black, and his eyes were sharp and alert.
Stanager gestured at the collection of tumbled pebbles spread out on the mess
table.  Tell me, what do you think of these?
The old man looked, and though it seemed impossible, his eyes grew even wider
than had the swordsman s.
 Memoch gharzanz!
he exclaimed in a language neither Ehomba nor Simna recognized.
 Where where did these come from, Captain?
She gestured at Ehomba.  These gentlemen together with their two, um, nonhuman
companions desire to make the Semordria crossing with us. This is what they
offer in payment. Is it sufficient?
Seating himself at the table, the old mariner removed a small magnifying lens
from a pants pocket. It was secured to the interior of the pocket, Ehomba
noted, by a strong string. Bending low, he examined several of the pebbles, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]