made them somewhat blithe of scruple. But that is uncertain. The tales which we have heard vary greatly, according to the spirit of the telling.
“It is clear from the words of Covenant Giantfriend, as well as from the later voyagings of our people, that the Unhomed sojourned for a time in Bhrathairealm, giving what aid they could against the Sandgorgons. For that reason, Giants have been well greeted here. But we have had scant need of the commerce and warlike implements which the Bhrathair offer, and the visits of our people to Bhrathairain have been infrequent. Therefore my knowledge lacks the fullness which Giants love.”
He paused for a moment to collect the pieces of his story, then continued, “There is an adage among the Bhrathair: 'He who waits for the sword to fall upon his neck will surely lose his head.' This is undisputed sooth.” Grim humour twisted his mouth. 'Yet the manner in which a truth is phrased reveals much. Many generations of striving against the Sandgorgons have made of the Bhrathair a people who seek to strike before they are stricken.
“The Sandgorgons-so it is said-are beasts birthed by the immense violence of the storms which anguish the Great Desert. They are somewhat manlike in form and also in cunning. But the chief aspect of their nature is that they are horrendously savage and mighty beyond the strength of stone or iron. No aid of Giants could have saved the Bhrathair from loss of the land they deem their home-and perhaps from extinction as well-had the Sandgorgons been beasts of concerted action. But their savagery was random, like the storms which gave them life. Therefore the Bhrathair were able to fight, and to endure. Betimes they appeared to prevail, or were reduced to a remnant, as the violence of the Sandgorgons swelled and waned across the depths of the waste. But no peace was secured. During one era of lesser peril, the Sandwall was built. As you see”-he gestured around him — 'it is a doughty work. Yet it was not proof against the Sandgorgons. Often has it been rebuilt, and often have one or several of these creatures chanced upon it and torn spans of it to rubble.
'Such the lives of the Bhrathair might have remained until the day of World's End. But at last-in a time several of our generations past-a man came from across the seas and presented himself to the gaddhi, the ruler of Bhrathairealm. Naming himself a thaumaturge of great prowess, he asked to be given the place of Kemper-the foremost counsellor, and, under the gaddhi, suzerain of this land. To earn this place, he proposed to end the peril of the Sandgorgons.
“This he did — I know not how. Mayhap he alone knows. Yet the accomplishment remains. By his arts, he wove the storms of the Great Desert into a prodigious gyre so mighty that it destroys and remakes the ground at every turn. And into this storm — now named Sandgorgons Doom-he bound the beasts. There they travail yet, their violence cycled and mastered by greater violence. It is said that from the abutments of the Sandhold Sandgorgons Doom may be seen blasting its puissance forever without motion from its place of binding and without let. It is said that slowly across the centuries the Sandgorgons die, driven one by one into despair by the loss of freedom and open sand. And it is said also”- Pitchwife spoke softly-'that upon occasion the Kemper releases one or another of them to do his dark bidding.
'For the gaddhi's Kemper, Kasreyn of the Gyre, remains in Bhrathairealm, prolonged in years far beyond even a Giant's span, though he is said to be as mortal as any man. The Bhrathair are no longer-lived than people of your kind, Chosen. Of gaddhi’s they have had many since Kasreyn's coming, for their rulership does not pass quietly from generation to generation. Yet Kasreyn of the Gyre remains. He it was who caused the building of the Sandhold. And because of his power, and his length of years, it is commonly said that he holds each gaddhi in turn as a puppet, ruling through the ruler that his hand may be concealed.
“The truth of this I do not know. But I give you witness.” With one long arm, he indicated the Sandhold. As Starfare's Gem advanced down the Harbour, the edifice became more clear and dominant against the desert sky. “There stands his handiwork in its five levels, each far-famed as a perfect circle resting to one side within others. The Sandwall conceals the First Circinate, which provides a pediment to the Second. Then arises the Tier of Riches, and above it, The Majesty. There sits the gaddhi on his Auspice. But the fifth and highest part is the spire which you see, and it is named Kemper's Pitch, for within it resides Kasreyn of the Gyre in all his arts. From that eminence I doubt not that he wields his will over the whole of Bhrathairealm- aye, and over the Great Desert itself.”
His tone was a blend of respect and misgiving; and he aroused mixed emotions in Linden. She admired the Sandhold-and distrusted what she heard about Kasreyn. A man with the power to bind the Sandgorgons also had the power to be an unconstrained tyrant. In addition, the plight of the Sandgorgons themselves disquieted her. In her world, dangerous animals were frequently exterminated; and the world was not improved thereby.
But Pitchwife was still speaking. He drew her attention back to the Harbour. The morning sun burned along the water.
“Yet the Bhrathair have flourished mightily. They lack much which is needful for a prosperous life, for it is said that in all Bhrathairealm are only five springs of fresh water and two plots of arable ground. But also they possess much which other peoples covet. Under Kasreyn's peace, trade has abounded. And the Bhrathair have become prolific shipwrights, that they may reach out to their distant neighbours. The tales which we have heard of Bhrathairain and the Sandhold convey echoes of mistrust-and yet, behold. This is clearly not a place of mistrust.”
Linden saw what he meant. As Starfare's Gem approached the piers and levees at the foot of the town, she discerned more clearly the scores of ships there, the bustling activity of the docks. In the Harbour-some at the piers, some at berths around the Sandwall-were a variety of warships: huge penteconters; triremes with iron prows for ramming; galleasses armed with catapults. But their presence seemed to have no effect on the plethora of other vessels which crowded the place. Brigantines, windjammers, sloops, merchantmen of every description teemed at the piers, creating a forest of masts and spars against the busy background of the town. Any distrust which afflicted Bhrathairealm had no influence upon the vitality of its commerce.
And the air was full of birds. Gulls, crows, and cormorants wheeled and squalled over the masts, among the spars, perching on the roofs of Bhrathairain, feeding on the spillage and detritus of the ships. Hawks and kites circled watchfully over both town and Harbour. Bhrathairealm must have been thriving indeed, if it could feast so many loud scavengers.
Linden was glad to see them. Perhaps they were neither clean nor gay; but they were alive. And they lent support to the Harbour’s reputation as a welcoming port.
When the dromond drew close enough to hear the hubbub of the docks, a skiff came shooting out into the open water. Four swarthy men stroked the boat swiftly toward the Giantship; a fifth stood in the stern. Before the skiff was within clear hail, this individual began gesticulating purposefully at Starfare's Gem.
Linden's perplexity must have shown on her face, for Pitchwife replied with a low chuckle, “Doubtless he seeks to guide us to a berth which may accommodate a ship of our draught.”
She soon saw that her companion was right. When Honninscrave obeyed the Bhrathair's gestures, the skiff swung ahead of the Giantship and pulled back toward the docks. By following, Honninscrave shortly brought Starfare's Gem to a deep levee between jutting piers.
Dockworkers waited there to help the ship to its berth. However, they quickly learned that they could do little for the dromond. The hawsers which were thrown to the piers were too massive for them to handle effectively. As Giants disembarked to secure their vessel, the Bhrathair moved back in astonishment and observed the great stone craft from the head of the levee. Shortly, a crowd gathered around them-other dockworkers, sailors from nearby ships, merchants and townspeople who had never seen a Giantship.
Linden studied them with interest while they watched the dromond. Most of their exclamations were in tongues she did not know. They were people of every hue and form; and their apparel ranged from habiliments as plain as those which Sunder and Hollian had worn to exotic regalia, woven of silk and taffeta in bright colours, which would have suited a sultan. An occasional sailor-perhaps the captain of a vessel, or its owner-was luxuriously caparisoned. But primarily the bravado of raiment belonged to the Bhrathair themselves. They were unquestionably prosperous. And prosperity had given
