Angayuk, Nukaq

By Marion Saunderson
Part 1

"YAHHHH!!!KKKKKKK!!!!"

Kahuane Arivat screamed as loud and as ferociously as he could, sword held diagonally over his head, hilt forward and charged. Charged right over the smouldering remains of their campfire. Pounded forward, blue eyes wild, dark hair flowing behind him, until the villain who stood over Nomsam's body cut and ran.

But Kahuane did not slow down. The other man's flight fired young Arivat's blood. He could not stop even if he had thought of it. Had to pursue. Had to get at that man. Had to, had to ...

He was there right behind the fleeing man. With all his strength, Kahuane brought the sword down, the hilt smashing into the man's head. A sickening crack and the man folded up. Kahuane's momentum drove him right over top of the collapsed body. He skidded to a halt and turned back.

His target now lay crumpled into a sprawled pile, unmoving. Kahuane waited for him to get up then shoved him with a foot. No response. His face went all still as he realized. The man was dead and he was the cause of it. He stared down at the blank face below him. Stood motionless until the sound of sword on sword echoing through the trees drew his attention.

With a last wide-eyed stare, Kahuane tore back toward their camp, back to brother and uncle and servant where they fought in the dawn light. Another scream of battle burst from his mouth as he erupted through the trees.

"YAHHHHKKKK!!!!"

Four bandits and three friends stared at him as Kahuane charged the two men near his Uncle Kendi. He picked the nearer man and swung his sword up again but this man did not run. Leaving his comrade to deal with Kendi, the brigand turned and faced Kahuane, his stance firm, short sword ready.

In the few seconds of his charge across the clearing, Kahuane saw his uncle dispatch his own opponent before leaping between Kahuane and his target. The power of Kendi's shoulder slammed into the man, throwing him sideways. With a roar, the brigand whirled and slashed outward. Kendi danced neatly away from the thrust while bringing his sword around to slice deep into the brigand's chest. The man stared in disbelief at the movement of fine steel slipping through him. With his last moments he mouthed a wordless cry, fell to his knees and onto his back as Kendi's sword pulled free.

Kahuane yipped in celebration but Kendi swirled away to deal with the remaining attackers. Donjet, Kahuane's older brother, had one man on the ground, cowering under the edge of the young noble's weapon. The last bandit had just stabbed the short and stocky Aglukak and was turning to take out Donjet who stood with his back to the bandit. Kendi cried a warning and as Donjet ducked, drove his sword over the young man's shoulder and into the chest of the bandit.

A gurgling cry and it was over.

Donjet dropped to Aglukak's side. "Oh, no, don't ..." holding the servant he had known most of his life as the colour in the man's eyes faded away and he died.

The bandit who was still cowering on the ground took advantage of the distraction to slip away into the forest. Kahuane noticed but when he would have given chase, Kendi grabbed his arm. The young man struggled a bit, crying out, "Let me go. I can get him!"

"Stop it. There is no need."

"He killed Aglukak! Let me ..."

Kendi shook him and roared, "It is finished," and then, releasing his hold on the boy, sank down on a fallen tree trunk. In a much quieter tone, "More than enough dead."

Kahuane frowned but obeyed. He strode about the camp, prodding the bodies of the bandits with his boot, trying to work off the energy raging through his body. "That showed them. That showed them. Dare attack the Arivat! The power of the Sanililaaq! Ha!"

He paused near his brother where he was sitting on the ground, the dead Agluka in his arms. Donjet's eyes were bright with tears, his right hand gently adjusting the disarray of Agluka's clothes. Kahuane ceased his muttering as he saw his brother's grief and began to share it. Aglukak had served the sons of Arivat almost since their birth, over a dozen years. Impossible to think he was dead. Kahuane shifted his sword to his left hand and rubbed his brother's shoulder with his right. He did not know what to say and in his discomfort, he stared at his uncle, who always knew the right thing.

The older man sat on the log, his breathing rough, his skin sweat-shiny and flushed. Not at all the way he was used to seeing his knight uncle and that bothered him. Kendi noticed Kahuane's eyes on him and he shrugged at the boy's unspoken concern.

"Not the spring time for me anymore. Been spending too much time in the keep of Inukshuk, living the soft life. A knight needs to be out in the world doing, not sitting reading."

Donjet raised his head. "Perhaps you are not well yet. That illness of the stomach."

"Not my stomach, lad, it's my lungs! Lost my breath too easily."

Kahuane grinned at him. "We showed those bandits something! Wish I knew some of your special tricks, Uncle! Teach me?"

An indulgent smile. "Not the sort of thing you are going to need in the Abbey, Kahu. No sword play among the monks."

Kahuane shook his head, "Awww, shaddy dell! Why must I go there?" and swung a foot at the log his uncle was sitting on. He didn't see the sympathetic look in Kendi Arivat's eyes.

"Because ten years ago, your honourable father promised the Abbot of Searching Heart Abbey that he would send a son to enter the order. And now is the time."

Donjet sighed. "We all have our obligations to fulfil, Kahu." The brothers exchanged knowing looks.

Pushing himself up, Kendi grimaced and seemed surprized by the gash on his left leg visible through a rent in his trousers. He sat down again and drew the rip apart to see the damage. Donjet ran and got the small medicine kit his mother had insisted on packing. When he knelt next to his uncle and opened the kit, the knight murmured, "Nothing. Don't fuss, lad. Had much worse."

The young man wiped away the blood and applied a comfrey poultice of his mother's making before covering the wound with a bandage. "All done, Uncle."

"Thanks, lad." He pushed himself to his feet. "Now things to do. We won't be going anywhere this morning. Got to tidy up here. We need two pyres. One here, on this stony ledge for our people and the other over there," pointing to where three of the brigands lay. "Kahuane, you start gathering wood. Make sure to bring enough for two pyres. A single base layer of wood for each."

Kahuane grumbled, "Can't we just leave those villains to rot?" He was not looking forward to finding the amount of wood his uncle was asking for. Donjet hissed at him to be quiet. Kendi answered him.

"No, we can not. No man, however bad, deserves to have his body worried by wolves. And it encourages the wolves to seek men out as food. No, we burn them. Donjet, you remember that pool of marsh oil we saw yesterday? About a mile back." At the boy's nod," Fill the two empty water skins. I'll gather the herbs. Hurry, lads. We do not want to be about this part of the forest any longer than we have to."

Donjet helped find more wood when he returned with the oil. It took them all morning to build the pyres, soak them in some of the oil and to lay out the bodies. While the boys brought the body of the bandit Kahuane had killed in the woods, Kendi prepared the bodies of their servants, washing the faces and hands and tucking sweet herbs into their clothing. The bandits were simply piled on the second pyre without ceremony. The remaining oil was poured over all the bodies, most on the bodies of their servants and the two pyres set alight.

Kahuane grimaced at the smell of burning flesh as he joined his brother standing by their uncle, murmuring prayers with him. Then they sat and waited. Kendi insisted they eat some bread and drink some water though the smell in the clearing did not help anyone's appetite.

When the ashes and bones of the first pyre were cooled they gathered them into a length of heavy hide lined in moistened bistack leaves. Thus they could be taken home to Inukshuk. The bundle was strapped to one of the horses. A quick raking over of the other pyre and they started off.

They did not get very far with five hours of daylight left to them but all three desired to be away from that place. They camped in a small clearing near a stream and at Kendi's suggestion they washed the smell of burning from themselves. Their tunics and leggings they hung in the trees to air for the night while they slept wrapped in cloaks taken from their packs.

Kahuane spent a long while trying to forget the sight and smell of burning bodies before he was able to sleep

On cresting a hill in the morning, Kendi estimated they were on the southern edge of the Lower Hills, perhaps three days ride from Fiorenza. It took four days with the problems they had leading the horses their servants had been riding as well as the pack animals. If truth be told, neither boy was eager to arrive in Fiorenza, and the difficulties with the horses were in part the result of a certain unconscious creative incompetence.

Both boys knew Kendi's leg was hurting and the delays must have irritated him but he did not seem angry at their mistakes with the horses. Each evening, Donjet insisted on checking the wound and after washing it, adding additional poultice.

The second night after the battle in the woods, Kendi sat late by the fire, writing, using a three-flame clay oil lamp for additional illumination. Kahuane watched him, aware that though his uncle was a knight, he also was a man of letters, an unusual combination. Reading and study were not things Kahuane was interested in. What he admired was his uncle's fight skills.

As night fell on the third day, the brothers had a whispered conference after their uncle dropped off into a fevered sleep. They nibbled on the remains of roast pennefowl, one of Kahuane's hunting efforts, heads close together and keeping an eye on Kendi as they spoke.

"I am worried, Kahu. The wound is worse. Hot, weeping. The comfrey paste Mother gave me, the one she swears will cure anything, it's doing no good at all."

"He's all right. Doesn't he say so? Don't fuss."

Donjet hissed, "He's not all right, he's being a knight. Never complain. You know that."

"Yes. But we will be in Fiorenza tomorrow. If we don't have any more trouble with the horses."

A frown. "Fiorenza." What waited for them in Fiorenza he did not want.

Kahuane's expression matched his brother's. "Damn."

"You shouldn't swear. Monks don't swear."

"Well, I'm not a monk yet. Damn, damn, damn!! I don't want to be a monk. Blast all the damned monks and the Abbey and the Abbot!"

Donjet's expression said he did not approve of his brother's blaspheming but that he understood the frustration that brought it on.

"It's damned unfair, Onjee. You want to be a monk and I want to be a knight and here we are, sent to the opposite of what we desire. Why? "

"You know. Don't go on about it any more."

"Why can't we be what we want? What is the point of being the son of the lord of the Sanililaaq if you can't do what you want?"

They both jumped at the sound of a deep voice from the other side of the campfire. "Because our Lord, the Margrave Arivat, has arranged for his heir, his oldest son, to be squired to the house of the Baron deZors of Fiorenza to be taught the skills of a man who will one day lead his people. And he has sent his next son to the Abbey in thanks for the recovery of his wife and two youngest from the firefever ten years ago. It is all ordered, lads. Go. To. Sleep."

"Yes, Uncle," and "Yes, Uncle Kendi." They grimaced at each other for being caught out and settled into their cloaks for the

The next day's journey was hard. Kendi was worse and had difficulty staying upright in his saddle. Donjet rode close to him, leaving Kahuane to lead most of the horses. Luckily the young man was getting the trick of it and had fewer problems. An early stop for the mid-day meal and a rest but Kendi insisted on making faster progress. He needed help getting back on his horse and swayed alarmingly several times. It was with great relief they came out of the woods into farmland and their first view, from a rise, of the towers of Fiorenza misty in the distance. Kendi perked up at that view and seemed to gain strength again.

"There, my lads. All that is Fiorenza awaits us. Such wonders you shall see." He looked back at Donjet and Kahuane, staring wide-eyed across the plain, hands slack on the reins of their horses. "Here, now, let's move on. We will be there before nightfall, time to see a bit of the city."

As they rode, Kendi told them stories of his own visits to Fiorenza as a young man and later, as a knight attending his brother, the Margrave. Though the boys had heard the stories before, the tales seemed more real and more exciting as they neared Fiorenza.

On their way were the farms that dotted the plain on this side of the River Fior and the folk, watching them pass, dressed in clothes so different than those of the people of Inukshuk. Colourful compared to the muted tones of the Sanililaaq, though still of a sturdy looking cloth. Colourful even to their own lordly travel tunics of brown and dark green.

"Is there festival, Uncle? See how they are festooned." Donjet whispered his question.

"Nay, lad. Just the way of these people. Farmers, not hunters."

Kahuane stared at all he passed, wondering how the Baron and his knights would look if this was the way farmers dressed. Then he heard it: three farm girls tittering. 'oh, he is so handsome. Who is he?' and her friend's reply, 'a lord no doubt.' 'look at how strong he is and that great sword!' He sat up proudly. He would show these farmer girls what it was to be Arivat. His back went to steel, his chest expanded, one hand going to his hip and an arrogant tilt to his head.

Then the deflating whisper from his brother. "Relax, Kahu. You are to be a monk, not the suitor of farm girls. Monks ignore the sighs of farmer's daughters.' It was hissed at him from the depth of Donjet's own disappointment at their destined roles. Kahuane blushed hot and stared straight ahead, ignoring now all those they passed.

When they entered the outer fringe of the city, he did notice the simple thatch cottages. "What, are these peasant hovels mighty Fiorenza?. The poorest among the Sanililaaq live in fine wood block houses!"

Donjet stared at his brother in consternation. "How would you know? You went out hunting in the forest whenever you could escape studies. You were never there helping Brother Thanluk care for the poor!"

Kendi raised a hand. "Hush! Can you not behave as the lords you are born to be rather than as bickering children?"

Both boys blushed and murmured, "Sorry, Uncle."

"All right. We need a guide. Been too long for me." He raised his voice. "Is there someone here who knows the Silver Heart Inn?"

A man walking in front of them turned and smiled. "Aye, Lord. I do."

"A groat if you take us there."

"My boys and I are headed to the market, Lord, right near. We will show you the way. Give the groat as alms, sir. Amidon, lead those horses." A pleasant-faced young man passed the bag hung on his shoulder to a boy who must have been his brother and took the reins of the packhorses from Kahuane.

"Pardon, fellow, your name?" Kendi asked the older man.

"I am Barkus the swordmaker. My sons Amidon and Skane."

Kendi smiled broadly. "Ah, I believe we may have had dealings long ago. Kendi Arivat of the Sanililaaq," inclining his head slightly.

"Lord Kendi! Forgive me, I did not recognize you."

"We have all aged, hmm?"

"Indeed, sir," but the swordmaker's face said it was the flushed and gaunt face of the knight that was the reason. He seemed about to say something else but as several carts tried to pass by in the narrow street, Barkus was forced to give way and walk in front of the knight's horse.

A gasp from Kahuane drew Kendi's eyes to his nephews. Rounding a corner they had come under one of the Crystal Towers. The late afternoon sun shimmered red-gold on the glass and reflected light into the street. Even after spending years here as a squire, Kendi was still impressed with the wonder of the Towers. Donjet rode as close to his uncle as possible in the crush of folk.

"Sir, the Towers? What magic! They say these towers have stood since before time began!"

"Myself, I think not magic. Nor all that old. Just from the time of the Ancients. A wonder nonetheless." Kendi suddenly started to feel hot all over, light-headed and sweating. A sway in the saddle but he was able to catch himself. "Barkus, how much further?"

"But a short way, Lord. There, see where the street opens into the market. Just before there." Barkus looked worried. "Sir, are you unwell?"

"No, no. Just tired from the journey. Sleeping on the trail loses its appeal at my age. Lead on." He held hard to the pummel of his saddle and managed to stay upright for another twenty paces of his great Shire. But then he wobbled, vision gone grey and tilted sideways and went down.

Luckily, Barkus had begun to walk beside Kendi's horse in spite of the traffic flow and was there to slow his fall and prevent his head from crashing onto the paving stones. Donjet was off his horse in a flash and bent down over his uncle. Kahuane was left to stare at the scene, prevented from dismounting by the press of people trying to get a view on one side and the wall of a building on the other.

Someone passed over a piece of sacking, calling out that it should be placed under the fallen knight's head. Voices asked who it was and what had happened. Nothing much else happened until the crowd ahead parted and a tall, fair-haired man in simple clothes pushed forward.

"Dear, dear, is he injured?" The man knelt in the road, ignoring the muck, laying one strong hand over Kendi's forehead. "A fever. He has passed out?"

Donjet could not resist answering the man. "Yes I think so. He has been feverish these three days or more."

The man rose and called out, "Some of you, please help. We need to get the Lord out of the street."

Barkus volunteered, "They were headed for the Silver Heart Inn, Master Todo."

'"Then that is where we will take him. Someone find something to carry him on." He turned to a young man of perhaps fourteen, dressed simply in the robe of an acolyte monk. "Josaf, bring Makto the Healer to the Inn." At a silent questioning look from Josaf, "Yes, urgent." The young man disappeared through the crowd.

Two long poles and a length of heavy cloth appeared and in a few moments were fashioned into a litter. Todo quietly supervised the loading of Kendi's unconscious form and its transport to the Inn. Barkus had sent one of his sons ahead to alert the Innkeeper. The crowd moved aside without demure and the procession of litter, Donjet, Kahuane and their packhorses moved up the street and entered the Inn's courtyard in a few moments.

Master Giando, the Innkeeper, was there to direct the litter bearers in and up the stairs to one of his best rooms. They got Kendi onto the bed and stood back as Donjet moved to the bedside. Todo murmured something to Giando and Innkeeper slipped smoothly into control.

"Now, my friends, let us withdraw and give his Lordship some quiet. Thanks to all, thanks. Come down and take a sip of ale."

Todo wondered if the cost of the ale would be added to the Lord's bill.

The room cleared quickly, leaving Donjet sitting on the side of the bed staring at his uncle. Kahuane arrived shortly, followed by several of the Inn's servants carrying their packs. Without instruction, the servants efficiently stored all they carried in the two large chests standing against the outer walls between the window.

Kahuane ignored the servants and focused on his uncle but Donjet rose and thanked them as they left the room. He turned back to Kendi, worried. "He doesn't look very well, Kahu." Both of them stared at the flushed face and the trace of blood at the mouth. "What are we going to do?"

Todo spoke from the doorway. "Pray, young sirs while what can be done is done. Here is the Healer come."

Makto hurried into the room, Josaf at heels. "If you please, sir."

Donjet rose and stepped back but hovering as the Healer began to examine his uncle. Todo coughed slightly and the brothers glanced at him.

"Perhaps you would like to refresh yourselves from your journey while the Healer aids this Lord. There is another room just here the Innkeeper has offered for your accommodation. Josaf, run down and have a small repast sent up. Sirs? Immediately he has done, Master Makto will speak with you. Won't you, Master Makto?"

"Eh, what? Oh, yes. Be at ease, Lords, I will do nothing now but determine his illness."

Kahuane was halfway from the room, his dislike of illness and sickrooms prompting him. "Come on, Donjet. Come on."

Donjet drew himself up. "This is Lord Kendi Arivat, knight and brother to the Margrave of Inukshuk. He is our uncle."

Todo nodded. "I recognized the insignia of Arivat. Come, sir, here is Josaf back. Take some ale and food to be ready for whatever will need to be done."

Donjet left the room with a last glance at his uncle. Todo stayed behind to assist Makto. Josaf kept the young men occupied by serving the meal and answering Kahuane's questions about Fiorenza and, since Josaf was an acolyte monk, Donjet's queries about life in the Abbey.

Makto and Todo entered after a while, faces serious. Donjet's heart clenched in fear. Voice vibrating, half standing and then sitting again, "How is my uncle?"

"About the same, sirs. His fever is high and there is bleeding from his mouth. I have cleaned his wound and changed the bandage but the leg is infected."

"I treated it myself with my Mother's ointment. Twice I changed the bandage since he was wounded."

"When, sir, was he wounded?"

"Four days ago. We were set upon by bandits in the Lower Hills. A cut with a short sword. Dealt with right away. Did I not... did I not do it correctly?"

"Would you show me the ointment?" Makto sniffed at the paste in the small ceramic jar Donjet handed him and tasted it. "Comfrey. Sir, this is a most fine ointment and should have prevented the infection. But it did not."

Kahuane interjected, "A poisoned sword?"

"No, sir. If so, your uncle would already be dead. No, this is not the result of poison. Did your uncle recently visit someone who was ill? Journey to some village where there was plague?"

"No. The only journey he has made was toward the Mountains of Night but that was more than fourteen days ago."

"I will mix an elixir of amphosroot and hazelbark. That should help the fever. For the infection, we can do nothing but continue what has been done." He stood a bit straighter. "I fear I must say the outcome is most uncertain but I will consult my books to see if there is some other remedy."

Donjet rose and spoke in a quiet and dignified tone, as he had heard his father use. It did not belay the fear in his eyes. "We thank you, Healer. Continue please. Be not concerned for your fee, whatever transpires."

The Healer's face reddened. "I hope there was no suggestion that I ..."

Donjet realized his mistake and raised a conciliatory hand. "No, no, I just meant ..."

"Of course, sir. I will leave you and prepare the elixir." Makto bowed and withdrew.

Donjet slapped his thigh and cursed his clumsiness. Todo studied him for a moment before enquiring gently.

"Pardon, Lords, is there anyone here in Fiorenza who should be notified?"

"Notified? I, no, we have no relatives here. There isn't any reason...Uncle will recover. He is a strong man."

Todo nodded and continued, "I only wondered if the purpose of your lordships' visit here ... was someone expecting you?"

Kahuane snapped, "What business is that of yours? Go away!"

"Kahu, hush. We need to speak to the Baron deZors and the Abbot. I will have messages sent to them. Thank you for your kindness ... Master Todo, is it not?"

Todo smiled, admiring the maturity in one who could not be more than 15 years old. "Just Todo. Some call me Master as a politeness but I have no right to the title. Master Giando can have your messages delivered. Is there any service I can do?" At the shaking of Donjet's head, Todo bowed and left them.

As he pulled the door to, he heard Kahuane grumble, "Nosy old fool!"

"Quiet! You are acting like some uncivilized lout. This is not the manner in which a son of Arivat behaves!" Donjet softened his tone. "I know it is all upsetting and strange but let's make Papa and Uncle Kendi proud."

A grunt of agreement from Kahuane. "What do we do now?"

"Pray for Uncle Kendi."

The next morning, Makto came again, bringing with him Guilio, his medical assistant. They tended to Kendi and then Makto spoke quietly to the brothers.

"Lords, it is worse. You must prepare yourselves for some difficult times."

Donjet hissed in a breath and then got himself under control. "I will write to the Margrave that he should come." Though it was a statement, Donjet looked to the Healer for some confirmation.

"Yes, that would be wise. I leave Guilio here to care for Lord Kendi. Unfortunately there are others who need me but I assure you Guilio is most skilled. He will send for me should there be a need between the times I will come."

Donjet managed a "thank you."

"I wish there was more to be done. I do have one more prescription. You and your brother should not stay in these rooms all day. Not good for anyone. Go out and take the air. Wander about the city." As Donjet started to shake his head, "Nay, young Lord, your honourable Father will want you well when he arrives. That will require you to take some exercise out in the air. Twice a day, sirs, at least."

Donjet nodded his reluctant agreement. But first, while Kahuane checked on their horses, he wrote the difficult letter to the Margrave and had the Innkeeper send it off with a messenger on the river barge headed that morning for the coast. From there, it would be necessary for the messenger to take a sea-going ship to Inukshuk.

Then slipping on his outer tunic, he joined the impatient Kahuane in the Inn's courtyard and off they went into the city. The Innkeeper sent a servant with them, Formos, a sturdy young man not many years older than they were but well trained in tending to nobles and rich merchants. Donjet insisted on going to the Abbey first, ignoring Kahuane's grumbling.

The Abbey's public areas were quiet in mid-morning, all the monks busy about their duties. The Porter opened the door to the great hall and they stepped into a space all soaring pillars and shadowy vaulted ceilings. Their footsteps echoed upward, sound amplified by the walls. Before the roodscreen, they knelt and prayed for their uncle.

Kahuane finished first and raised his eyes to look about the place. So quiet. So dull. How, he thought, will I ever survive being here for the rest of my life? It seemed like forever before Donjet lifted his head, took a long breath and stood up. The older boy glanced longingly around and sighed before being hurried away by Kahuane. Formos, who had waited at the entry to the great hall, followed silently.

Out into broad street that led from the Abbey toward the noise and bustle of the market. For nearly an hour they wandered about, staring at all the goods for sale. They bought nothing at Donjet's hissed warning to Kahuane that they had to save what they had to pay the Inn and the Healer until their father arrived. That did not stop Kahuane from handling small daggers and caressing the smooth leather of a war saddle. The young man forgot all about the fascinations of the market, however, when he saw a troop of the Baron's guards marching off to the west.

"Come on, come on! Let's see the Keep!" Kahuane was away before Donjet could reply. Through the labyrinth of market stalls, strolling hawkers and ambling shoppers. Out onto the broad roadway that led past fine stone buildings, more crystal towers. Following the hard clack of metal-toed boots on paving stones that were polished with the centuries' passage of boot and wheel.

The road sloped downward to the River Fior and Donjet almost slipped on the pavers glass-smooth to his suede boots. Kahuane laughed.

"Didn't Uncle Kendi say once that keeping your feet was a critical thing for a warrior?"

Donjet glared but he could not hold it in the face of his brother's good-natured grin. "I believe that was keeping your head. But ... staying on your feet is good too."

Ahead where the buildings stopped there a clear view of the stone gate guarding the bridge and across the River, the Baron's Keep. Prohibited from passing onto the bridge by the guards, the brothers leaned on the balustrade to one side of the gate, staring over the water. There just past the far end of the bridge and its second gate was the broad wooden palisade of the Keep.

"See," Kahuane pointed, "as Uncle said, only a small area before the Keep walls. No place for an enemy to mass an attack force. And there, the sheer stone embankments to make landing on the island impossible."

"Not impossible. There are always possibilities, Kahu, though hard to see sometimes." At his younger brother's frown, "That was Uncle's main lesson in warfare. In any dealings, he said. Never underestimate the opposition. Too much is lost through arrogance."

Kahuane was surprized. "I didn't think you were listening when he talked battle strategy."

"I always listened to Uncle. His advice was based in wisdom and experience. And applicable to many situations, not just battle. Now, we should return and see how he fares."

Kahuane did not argue. And ever trailing along, Formos, ready to direct them should they become uncertain of their way.