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friend. On Weatherlight she had been under Sisay's command.
"Orim," she said quietly, "tell us what happened to you."
The healer shook her head. "No, Sisay. I'm not ready for
that yet. Maybe never. But regardless, I'm happy to see you
and Hanna."
Next day, as they journeyed northward, Sisay, Hanna, and
Orim grew accustomed to the spectacle of the Outer Sea on
their left. On the third day, the road broadened. A low stone
wall ran beside it, along which small empty guardhouses stood
every mile or so. After perhaps fifteen miles, the road
descended toward the water. Long, sweeping turns burrowed into
the cliff wall, and Sisay sometimes closed her eyes as her
Jhovall's claws slipped on the spray-covered rock. The
travelers' view to the north was blocked by a long spur of
rock that thrust out into the sea. The sound of breakers
filled the air all around, and many birds nested along the
cliff wall.
A tunnel loomed before them, piercing the spur, barred by
a great wrought-iron gate. The party came to a halt. One of
the Mercadians approached the gate and placed his hand on the
intricately carved iron plate at its center. He spoke a word,
and there began a musical ringing that spread throughout the
cavern and echoed above the crash of the waves below. Then,
with a rumble, the great gates swung open, sliding into
recesses in the rock. The party moved forward into the tunnel.
As they entered, lights sprang up on the walb, illuminating
the way. The passageway was long and straight, carved by
picks. At the far end, a similar pair of gates opened as they
approached. Sisay appreciated the military advantages of an
approach that could trap invaders in a narrow space where they
could be disposed of with impunity.
The caravan emerged from the tunnel, lights behind them
fading into blackness. Before them, a steep, cobbled causeway
descended into the main street of Rishada. Jhovalls' claws
clicked along the street. Mercadians nodded condescendingly at
the crowds that stared at them, shouting at the few foolish
enough to block their way.
Rishada was a smaller version of Mercadia, with the same
profusion of market stalls, the same clamor of merchants- but
all of it had a distinctly nautical flavor. Many folk roamed
the streets with the rolling gait of sailors. Fresh fish were
laid out on stone slabs, along with crabs, lobsters, squid,
shrimp, and other, less identifiable creatures.
The Mercadian procession made its way through the
confusing maze of streets, down to a broad, open square.
Around three sides of the square were low stone buildings. The
fourth side was open to the sea and extended outward in a long
pier lined with docked ships. Most were small fishing smacks,
but a few were sleek schooners.
It was beside one of these that the caravan paused. The
ship Facade had been chartered to take the ambassadorial
contingent. The company loaded on the ship and settled in for
a night in the moorings.
One night's stay in Rishada was enough to last the
Weatherlight companions a lifetime. The cabin in which they
were housed was dark and narrow and smelled intolerably of
fish. The beds were small, lumpy, and damp, and there was
little privacy save the darkness. All three women-Sisay,
Hanna, and Orim-were crowded together, and since Orim chose to
speak no more than a few words, Sisay and Hanna felt
constrained to silence as well. They slept as best they were
able and were roused the next morning by a sense of motion.
Blinking the sleep from her eyes, Sisay rose and climbed
to the deck. The crew had just cast off the lines, and Facade
drew away from the city. Sisay breathed deeply. It felt
wonderful once again to be aboard a ship under sail. Hanna
came to join her, and the women traded quiet smiles.
On the water, the Mercadians seemed abnormally silent and
tense. They huddled together on the deck while Sisay and Hanna
stood in the prow of the ship, watching the water.
Rishada dropped quickly behind them. Before them the sea
spread out in an endless horizon. Both women found the rush of
air and water exhilarating after the long, hot, dusty journey.
The wind filled the sails, and the flag of Rishada, gray with
a red ship surmounted with a blue crest of arms, snapped
smartly from the mast.
Along the surface of the water, small fish skimmed. One
suddenly rose from the waves and, spreading a pair of broad
fins from its sides, took to the air with a graceful swoop and
soared away on air currents. Sisay and Hanna stood open-
mouthed as an entire flight of the flying fish followed their
leader and disappeared into the yellow sky. The water was very
clear, and Sisay at times glimpsed stranger creatures moving
about in the depths. When she stared hard at the distant
forms, they seemed only shadows that flitted over the dimpled
waves.
Gazing at the illimitable ocean, Sisay said to Hanna,
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