The Waters Rising (56 page)

B
ram and Chippy, Blue and Fisher, plus the previously unnamed horse and mule now known as Greedy and Ears, reached the border of Elsmere and took one more day to arrive at the new Merhaven, pausing above it at the top of a last gentle rise before the long descent into the sea. Below them, a new town spread across the flanks of the mountains and along the shores of an expansive bay, a bay vastly wider than the ones shown on their maps and extending southward to a dim shoreline above which a separate town was perched.

“Merhaven and South Merhaven,” murmured the horse.

The map had shown Merhaven as a single town that had made an arc along the gentle slope of the bay’s north side, nearest them, and extended along the narrow shelf edging the eastern, inner curve.

Abasio pointed toward this inner curve. “That side was steeper. There was just a narrow shelf beneath that wing of the town; water covered it. They couldn’t move up, so they moved to the far side of the bay.”

“They’ve cut a road to join the two,” Xulai said, following his gaze toward the curved gash that had been chopped into the steep eastern slope and around it onto the southern shore. Though the evening light was fading, the new road showed as a lighter ribbon against the green of the hill.

Below them, wooden piers protruded into the water among a clutter of the small fishing boats that had plied the bay and the nearby shorelines of the ocean for generations. One large, seagoing ship was moored at the end of the longest pier. Though it bore the pennant of Tingawa, no one moved upon it or near it. The other little ships had men around them; nets were being strung up to dry among the spars and masts; people were moving about along the piers, along the shore, up and down the unpaved streets of the new town. Evidently there had been time to salvage building materials from the drowned town, for many of the newly built structures were of brick or stone. Abasio guessed they had been taken apart piece by piece and reassembled. That the reassembly was temporary was evidenced by the fact that none of the houses had gardens, none had landscaped surroundings. They had simply been plopped down on hastily leveled plots of ground, roadways scraped out leading to them, and only time would tell whether they would stay settled in place or be pulled into pieces to be reassembled again, somewhere higher.

“Genieve,” said Xulai. “Falyrion’s sister. That’s where we ought to go.”

“What’s the name of her house?”

“The Watch House. It’s supposed to have a watchtower.”

Abasio pointed across the bay. “Over there, the white one. It’s the only one with a tower. And it hasn’t been moved; it’s been there all along. Look at the trees around it.”

It stood straight across from them, alone, a white house behind a buttressed wall, the whole a massive white fist, one tower sticking up like a finger raised to test the wind.

“There’s supposed to be a Tingawan something here,” Xulai said. “Precious Wind told me. It’s an office of some kind; not an embassy, that’s in Ghastain near the court of King Gahls. Before the Sea King declared war, a lot of ships came here from Tingawa.”

“A commercial office,” he said. “Do you want to try for the Watch House tonight? It’s getting on for dark.”

“There’s only one road around the bay,” she replied. “We’re not likely to get lost.”

“If they have a stable and hay, I vote we go there,” said Blue.

“I could go take a look,” Fisher offered.

“Good idea,” said Abasio.

Wings took off in a flurry; a dark arrow sped across the sky, over the waters, losing itself in the distance. Abasio got out his glasses and focused on the distant tower. “Where would he go?”

“To the stables,” she replied. “That’s what Blue is concerned about.”

“Justifiably,” snorted the horse.

“They must be behind the house,” Abasio said. “I can’t see where he went.”

They moved slowly down the hill through an evening hush. Below them, people were going home. Chimneys were beginning to smoke. Near the curved sliver of moon, one star gleamed brilliantly against the blue. A flurry of wings came again.

A hawk settled on Xulai’s shoulder to defeather and refur itself. Fisher said, “Stables, hay, oats, only one horse there, room for half a dozen. Somebody’s in the house, there’s smoke from the chimney.”

“Let’s ride for it,” said Abasio.

They trotted down the hill, angling to their left to arrive at the road around the bay without going through any part of the town. Once on the narrow though well-graded road, Blue broke into a canter, Greedy reluctantly following, grunting with each footfall. Ears was made of more resilient stuff, following silently without making a fuss about it. He was lightly laden. They had eaten almost all their food, and the mule carried only their blankets and tent together with a few odds and ends. It was full dark when they reached the far side of the bay and started up the hillside. The moon sliver and the star shine reflected just enough light from the hard-packed surface of the road to keep them on track. Though the gate was shut when they arrived at the white wall, a lantern lit the bell rope beside it.

Xulai assayed a couple of well-spaced clongs. After a time, the door of the house opened, and a man came out. He had bowed legs, a scruffy beard, a napkin tucked into his collar, and an expression of honest annoyance.

Xulai headed off the annoyance in a clear, carrying voice. “Is this the home of Genieve, daughter of Falyrion, Duke of Kamfels?” The man gaped without saying anything. “If so, tell her, please, that a messenger from Justinian, Duke of Wold, is at her gate and begs her hospitality.”

“Let them in, Dobbich,” a deeper voice cried from the open door. “Let them in at once.”

The man shut his mouth and opened the gate wordlessly, letting his jaw sag again as they entered. The woman in the doorway came toward them, looking up at them with amazement. She saw a bearded man, a boy with some kind of animal on his shoulder. Neither of them was Justinian. A messenger, someone had said?

Xulai slid down from Greedy’s back. “You are Genieve? Justinian’s childhood friend? I am Xulai, his . . . messenger. We are . . . traveling alone to avoid being taken by . . . By what, Abasio?”

“By very nasty people,” he said, dismounting. “Madam, we thank you for any kindness you can offer. It has been a long, weary way here.”

“Justinian?” she begged. “Is he . . . Is he well? And his . . . his wife?”

After a moment’s pause and a deeply heaved sigh, Xulai said, “Princess Xu-i-lok is dead. The duke has gone into hiding from the same people who killed her and who have driven us this long way. We have no reason to think he is not safe and well. It was he who sent us here and told us to find you in the Watch House.”

She beckoned them in. “Dobbich, go find Mrs. Bang and tell her we have guests who are hungry and not fussy about food.” She smiled at them, obviously trying to be welcoming while deeply worried. “At this time of night, given your obvious weariness, I presume that’s true.”

“Very true, ma’am,” said Abasio.

“Of course, the livestock are more particular,” said Blue.

The woman turned in astonishment. “Did I just hear . . .”

Abasio glared at Blue. “Yes, ma’am, it’s a very long story. Blue can take himself and his friends to the stables, but they’ll need some help shedding those saddles and packs. If you’ll take my young friend in, I’ll see to the animals and join you shortly.”

“There’s hay there,” she said, “though we’re a little low on oats. We rely on my late husband’s farms to keep us in provisions, and we have not sent a wagon for some weeks.”

“Farms?” asked Xulai.

“Over the ridge, back there in the hills a bit. He owned several farms, yes. Those of us who have hill farms are managing quite well. They’re located in high valleys, and they’ve always fed Merhaven whatever it couldn’t take from the sea itself. We have grain and hay and vegetables, mostly root crops now. We have milk and cheese. Of course, the fishermen bring in full nets. Fish of both shell and fin are plentiful and getting more so.” She pushed the heavy door open and led Xulai inside. The floors were tiled with red clay; the walls were as white inside as out; the rooms were warm. Xulai laid her hand on the floor. That was where the heat was coming from.

“Hollow tiles,” said Genieve. “Justinian and I used to talk about all the ancient technology that we’d lost. He had many old books. This is a very ancient system. Some ancient people—I forget their names—heated their baths this way. There’s a fireplace outside, and it’s arranged so the hot air goes through the floors inside and then up a chimney. Several of the families up here have copied it. Justinian sent me the plans in a letter when I wrote to him saying how chilly it was here in winter when the wind comes in from the sea.”

Xulai smiled. “Abasio heated his wagon in a similar way. He, too, has old books.”

“Is Justinian all right, really?”

“I believe so,” said Xulai honestly. “Truly, Genieve, I believe so. He’s simply gone where he can’t be bullied or used in any way by the evil people Abasio spoke of. We traveled as two brothers and Abasio grew a beard so no one would recognize us. I’m supposed to take that ship down there and sail to Tingawa. It is my father’s wish that I do this, as soon as I can.”

“Your father?”

Xulai stared intently at the woman across from her. Her father trusted this woman; she would also trust her. She laid her hand on Genieve’s, saying softly, “Genieve, I am Justinian’s daughter, Xu-i-lok’s daughter. You must not tell anyone. Not your servants, not your friends. To the rest of the world, I am only his messenger, but he would want me to tell you the truth.”

The woman merely sat for a long moment, mouth open. “Did he tell you that we . . .”

“He told me that you were his dearest friend. He told me that if he had not met my mother, you and he might have married. He could not help himself, Genieve. The match between him and my mother was a thing fated. Truly. And you must not mention to anyone that I am his daughter because everyone related to him is marked for death. Selfishly, I would like to avoid that, but evidently my survival is important to many others as well.”

Genieve sat down, shaking her head. “But no one knew he had . . .”

“No one knew he had a child. Exactly! Genieve, even I did not know I was his child until after my mother died. I didn’t even know she was my mother. I have grieved over my ignorance, but it was a secret, kept close, and we must go on keeping it. If anyone asks, I am simply a Xakixa—do you know what that is?”

She murmured, “I’ve heard of it. There are Tingawans here. They have spoken of the custom.”

“Good. Then you say that’s what I am. That’s why I’m returning to Tingawa.”

“This man with you—who is he?”

“His name is Abasio. He is a good man and a good friend who has saved my life several times. My father trusted him.”

Abasio chose that moment to enter the room, pay his respects to Genieve, and make brief explanations. “We must get to Tingawa. The last ship is here, and we must take it. Do you have any idea where the crew or the captain may be?”

“They are staying in the building that was occupied by the shipping office when the ships came in here. Before the waters rising made everyone move. They moved the shipping office, of course, but it’s still the building nearest the piers.”

“How long ago was it that the town was moved?”

“Two years ago. The piers have been moved twice since. They are about ready to move the wooden buildings again. They will not move the stone ones again. From now on, all buildings will be built on runners that teams of beasts can move uphill. When will the water stop rising?”

Abasio shook his head, choosing to be soothing rather than truthful. “No one seems to know exactly. The people in Tingawa probably know better than we do. That’s another reason for our journey there.”

“I wish someone would find out and tell the poor people who live by the sea. It’s a wearying thing, moving a town! Everything is so strange! Some of us rode out recently, down around this arm of the mountains, to take a look at the Big Mud. You know of it?”

“A marsh, isn’t it?” Xulai asked. “I’ve seen it on maps. A huge swale, the size of a country, that accumulates rain and stream water, south of here.”

“It was a marsh, yes. Full of ducks and stilts and storks and other wetland creatures, huge, as you say. Not a good place to get lost in. It has always been separated from the ocean by a seaside desert of low dunes, smaller than those on the Great Dune Coast, but the same kind of loose sand, moving with the wind. Now, at high tide, the ocean cuts through the dunes and runs into the Big Mud. It’s no longer merely a marsh. It has become a huge shallow lake! Some of the men said it is larger in area than the Highlands of Ghastain. Each tide washes more of the dunes away.”

Genieve sounded more annoyed than troubled. Xulai followed Abasio’s lead, merely nodding while swallowing her surprise. It was better for the good lady to be annoyed than frightened to death.

There was a knock at the door, and a very wide, white-aproned woman came in, her hair done up in a twisted kerchief. “Since you said they wasn’t fussy, ma’am, I’ve warmed something up.”

“This is Mrs. Bang,” Genieve announced. “Please go with her and have a warm meal. We’ll talk again when you’ve finished, and meantime I’ll see to having rooms readied for you.”