'Come away, Yen Olass,' said Resbit, seeing she was in some distress.
'Son-son,' said the princess, 'I feel faint.’
Yen Olass collapsed to the ground, writhing.
'Yen Olass,' said Resbit. 'What's wrong? Speak to me. Yen Olass.’
'I'll live,' said Yen Olass, controlling herself with an immense effort of will.
She buried her head in her arms, her laughter sobbed out. And Resbit, thinking she was crying, comforted her as best she could. By the time Yen Olass had sobered up, Haveros, Draven and the sea captain Menjamin Occam were discussing the dead man with the Melski. It was a long, laboured conversation, with the polyglot Hor-hor- hurulg-murg bearing the brunt of the job of translation. The Galish did not fight amongst themselves; the Melski would not have attacked the Galish. So who or what was killing upriver?
'We have to go on,' said Draven.
Nobody disputed it. Leaving the body where it was – they could not spare the time or energy to dig a grave, and none of them wished to eat it – they continued north in a sombre mood.
That afternoon, a Melski raft came drifting down the river with a Melski body on board. Without a word, Hor- hor-hurulg-murg dived – and did not surface.
'Where Hor-hor-hurulg-murg?' said Yen Olass to the three other Melski, using one of the few Melski words she had picked up. They signed her to be patient.
'Let's get under cover,' said Haveros, signing for them to withdraw into the trees.
But at that moment, Hor-hor-hurulg-murg surfaced near the bank, and started to clamber out of the water. Then he turned round, as if expecting someone to follow him. Seeing nobody, he plunged into the water again, reappearing shortly with a child-small Melski, which reluctantly allowed itself to be led ashore.
'He was under the raft,' said Hor-hor-hurulg-murg in Galish, after which he addressed the child in his own language.
He got no response.
'What happened?' said Haveros.
'Unknown,' said Hor-hor-hurulg-murg. 'But we know where the children usually shelter if trouble starts. I suppose the parents of this one were killed, so he took shelter.’
The child stood on the bank looking lost and frightened. Yen Olass advanced. He flinched. 'Dumadoml’
'Glum dumadom glum,' said Hor-hor-hurulg-murg sternly.
'Glum dumadom,' said Yen Olass emphatically, certain that she was not a whatever-it-was.
The Melski child squealed in panic and fled for the river. Draven blocked its path. It turned at bay and bared its teeth. Hor-hor-hurulg-murg laughed, and spoke again:
'Glum dumadom loglum.’
The child relaxed slightly.
'What's a dumadom?' said Yen Olass.
'Zardik,' said Hor-hor-hurulg-murg, using the Galish word.
'And what's that?’
'You know… fur, claws… like this.' Hor-hor-hurulg-murg did a little pantomime, shambling on all fours then lumbering onto two legs. It was so funny that Yen Olass almost broke into hysterical laughter. She controlled herself, guessing that would be an irretrievable insult to Melski dignity.
'I think he means bear,' said Haveros.
'Oh, a bear,' said Yen Olass.
'You understand?' said Hor-hor-hurulg-murg. 'Good. So you know, glum starts no, but on its own it means maybe. Sometimes it even means yes. If you want one word that's always no, use loglum. Otherwise, glum glum, start and finish.’
Yen Olass committed that to memory as they set off again. The raft was now out of sight; floating downstream with a dead body on board, it would take a clear warning of danger to the Melski still in the south.
The little Melski managed to keep up the pace, but was exhausted when evening came. Yen Olass regarded it as a personal triumph when he allowed her to fold his small green body into the comfort of her furs. She taught the child her name, and discovered his, which was Wadu; this discovery delighted her, until Hor-hor-hurulg-murg advised that 'wadu' simply meant 'hungry'.
'Ask him his name then,' said Yen Olass.
Hor-hor-hurulg-murg tried, but failed. Little Melski were always cautious when talking to large Melski. This behaviour was instinctive, dating back to the Stone Days before the Merging had brought the wisdom of the Cycle. Back then, large Melski used to delight in eating little Melski.
'Try again,' said Yen Olass.
'He's too young to understand,' said Hor-hor-hurulg-murg; this convenient formula excused him from having to explain why it was really beneath the dignity of a Melski male to converse with a child.
The child was a problem the next day, because it started lagging behind. Toward the end of the day, Yen Olass was trudging along with Wadu riding on her shoulders. That evening, as they feasted on dead fish and (humans only)
gently mouldering venison, Yen Olass was concerned to find Wadu eating slugs; Hor-hor-hurulg-murg, with a trace of weariness, explained that slugs were the best possible thing for him.
Apart from this disconcerting eating habit, Wadu was in many ways an ideal child. He was strong,, sturdy, wore no clothes, never caught a chill, and was never in any danger of drowning in the river. Furthermore, he was awed into good behaviour by the presence of so many adults. Yen Olass decided that her first big project as a mother would be to get him to speak. But what would happen when they got to Lake Armansis? Would she be allowed to take him west with her?
Her question was soon answered, because when they were still one day short of the lake, they ran into a party of a dozen Melski. Recognising one of the females, Wadu threw himself forward with a scream of delight. He was picked up and comforted, and immediately started babbling away in his own language. The adults were so busy talking themselves that it was some time before Yen Olass could get a translation.
'Among other things.' said Hor-hor-hurulg-murg, 'he says you're a nice creature even if you are all covered in fur.’
The adult Melski brought the news from Lake Armansis. About two hundred attackers from the west, probably Orfus pirates from the Greater Teeth, had come over the Razorwind Pass, wiping out the two Galish convoys camped on the western shores of the lake. The pirates were now building a fort, as if they meant to stay. Some Melski had been killed by the pirates; this group had thought it safest to head south. Hor-hor-hurulg-murg disabused them of that notion.
The dozen Melski joined the north-going fugitives and kept pace with them to Lake Armansis. They camped near the lake, planning to cross the river in the morning and skirt around the eastern shores, picking up the river again at the northern end.
By morning, Draven had disappeared. The sea captain, Occam, was also missing. Guessing that these two had headed for the pirate camp, the party crossed the river – which meant a hair-raising trip across a series of one-log bridges spanning the gaps between huge water-cleaving rocks – and started their journey round the eastern side of the lake. Haveros, who had more than half-expected Draven to flee to the pirates, did not expect a pirate attack, doubting that men who had just looted two merchant convoys would mount an expedition to capture a tiny poverty-stricken group like their own.
The person most upset was the woman Jalamex, for Draven had abandoned her without so much as a goodbye.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
With escape to the west cut off, Yen Olass would have liked to stay with the Melski, but she was a minority of one, The big, green animals made the others uneasy, and, as Haveros said, 'Once they start killing humans, there's no telling where they'll stop.' Even Resbit allowed herself to be persuaded by that argument. So, when the river forked north of Lake Armansis, the humans chose the westerly branch while the Melski took the easterly.
