We saw, or hoped we saw, the death pact skein falling down like smoke, carrying the ancients' curse to the very lap of Tiath Gargan.

We sailed on into the reach and saw that this part of the river was dotted with fishing boats. Diver kept a close watch astern, but there was no pursuit. How could there be? No one on the river besides ourselves had the least idea of how this green star came about. Even Old Gwin, who saw Diver fire the flare, but was ignorant of our plan, had difficulty in grasping the notion. The Great Elder and his armed va.s.sals knew about missiles-arrows, spears and catapults that hurled stories. They knew more than the old threads allowed about fire-flaming arrows and the terrible firestone clingers that a.s.sa.s.sins hurl from a metal cup. But Diver's stun-gun and the flare rocket were far beyond their knowledge.

They saw what we all saw and what was seen and wondered at by all the people of the river: a gree sta, H n it r fell from heaven over the Great Elder's barge. We heard rom the fishing boats, minutes after the flare, and we heard again, exaggerated, at Whiterock and all the way to Otolor.

Tiath Pentroy had drawn down the wrath of Eenath, his immortal ancestor, for killing her spirit warriors.

So we sailed on unharmed and came in at dawn to tie at Whiterock Fold. An ancient shepherd came down 'ir~srs.

greet the blue barge, expecting Beeth Ulgan or her facto I We were escorted to her fixed house near the landing; our time on the river was over.

74.THERE ARE PLENTY OF JOKES about rough bush weavers moving into a fixed house, and I dare say we could have been the models for them all, at Whiterock. If it wasn't the cold, the cooking hearth, the earth closet or the cupboard locks, then we were complaining about the stuffiness and the way the walls did not give. We adapted pretty quickly, and the Ulgan's small white house became dear and familiar to us. But there were nights, as spring approached, when we couldn't stand it another moment and slent in our bam-;and r fell f rorn ard it tolor.

h, histie up wn to actors.

ng; ouron the lawn or on the flat roof, under the starsVvniterock Fold, never more than a stopping place, was almost deserted. There were seven shepherds-one Family, with two grown children as outclips-tending the fold itself, a mile away behind the outcrop of rock that gave the place its name. Half the hundred wool-deer belonged to Beeth Ulgan, the rest were divided among the shepherds and a town grandee from Wellin. Come spring they would be shorn and turned into the wider pastures round the rock, where they already grazed on fine days. The wool would be shipped up and down the river, some back to Cullin, some down to Otolor Spring Fair. Beeth had promised us a first- cla.s.s bale in payment for our new work left at Stone Brook.

When our work was done, or when the weather was so W_.

bright we could persuade the grown-ups to set us free, Narneen and I explored the glebe of the Ulgan's house.

Eventually we grew bolder and crossed the grazing lawns to scramble on the tall rock and look down on the shepherd's fold. There was no need for Diver to hide ... although he could have: the fixed house was full of deep cupboards in the curtain walls, as well as a cellar underground. He walked free and went on fishing trips with Mamor in a wicker crossing-boat from the landing. On one of these journeys they learned from a shepherd that the barge bearing the air ship had pa.s.sed Whiterock a full five days ahead of us. It met with the Great Elder's barge, coming down from Otolor, and Tiath Gargan had gone aboard in midstream to examine the cargo. There was no shortage of gossip up and down the river. The shepherd even volun- teered her own idea of what might be on the barge under the covers: a great h.o.a.rd of silver treasure, fallen from heaven.

Diver was restless, but he was in a land that was all new, and every day he found new things to interest him. He made a folder of dried leaves and plant drawings; he collected rocks. Ten days, fifteen pa.s.sed, and the suns moved ever closer, to mark the year's end. The weather was so fine that it brought the sunners out onto the rocks; the early-eyes and red-bells were opening. In the air and on the river, the bright two-sun days brought out the "deedeenar"

or "flitterlings". One or two small pleasure boats with painted sails flittered past on the Troon; and one day, as Diver sat with us on the rock he gave a cry. The firstIll balloon of springtime went past overhead, and not behind it was a glider.

It was a fine sight: Narneen and I loved flying machi and looked for these flitterlings or spring visitors every year.

"Grandees?" asked Diver. He had moved into the sh ow of a boulder and drawn out his spygla.s.s.( 76 ).

"That's right," I said. "No one else has the time or the credits. Well, maybe one or two rich townees." I tried to explain about the air currents and the air races, the landing platforms and the catapults in Rintoul, Otolor and the Fire-Town. And the greatest race of all. the Bird Clan atOtolor.Narneen broke in, "We see them better here. At Cullin they land on the fairground, and on Hingstull they fall,poor dears, if the wind is wrong!"It was true. On the mountain e got too manv unskillfulflitterlings who dashed their expensive craft, and sometimes themselves, all to pieces. Diver handed me the gla.s.s, and as I trained it on the flame and silver balloon, he laughed tonew, . He s; he suns er was S; the on the eenartS INIth day, as he first not farMachines rs everythe shad-himself and hummed one of his tunes.There was something brave and comical about the party of grandees in the basket. They wore furs, because it was chilly, and seemed to be eating and drinking enormously.

And one-I gave a yelp of laughter-a personage in a green cloak was looking back at us on the rock with another si)vgla.s.s. Diver looked again and Narneen took a Deer). Wecould not stop laughing; we rolled about on the rock while Diver took back his gla.s.s and examined the glider, bearing away to the other side of the river. Then he sang us his song of the flying machines, and I gave him the first words,"Ototo Deedeenar . . . Great, great flitterlings ??We lay on the rock hoping for more machines, but none came and we went back to the house laughing and addingpieces to our song.Diver could not hide his excitement"We told you," said Brin, after supper. "Did you thinkthose were hill varns)"Diver shook his head and laughed; he was rather shame- faced. "The flying is more advanced than I expected." We sat in comfort in the midst of Beeth Ulgan's house, on cushions and our own mats laid down. When I saw our hangings on the white walls and looked round at the familiar faces, I could hardly believe that we had become so grand . . . like city-dwellers.

Diver asked about the use of gliders and balloons. Mamor chimed in; he had flown in a glider. Some distant sib of his Five had been a glider pilot, who carried messages and pa.s.sengers about in the Fire-Town.

"There is the difference between Tsagul and the rest of the world," said Brin. "Flying is a sport for the rich everywhere else. In the Fire-Town it is put to hard use."

"Ah . . ." said Harper Roy, who was quiet and thought- ful this night. "Many others would fly if they could.

Remember Antho the Bird Farmer."

"Remind us," said Mamor. "Diver has not heard the story." So Roy took his harp and accompanied his tale, half-sung and half-told, in the manner that is called "man- tothan". I cannot set it down as he delivered it, but the story is a simple one:"Antho the Bird Farmer was not a clansman; he lived on the outskirts of Rintoul where there are bird farms and market gardens to serve the needs of the great city. He followed the old threads, but he suffered a great loss ...

his Five and their children all were killed in an accident on the river, and Antho, who had been proud and rich, was left alone. He became mad, so it was said, with his solitude.

One day he set free all his caged birds, even the scratching fowl who cannot fly, and wandered into the wilderness.

There the winds took pity on him and blessed him with the power of flight. He made a marvellous craft from bentwood and a bolt of silk he found floating down the Datse. It was launched from the roof of a ruined temple, with the aid of two hermits, male and female, who lived in the desert. Then Antho caught every current of air and flew better than the grandees. His glider took him home again and was a wonder to behold. No other craft could match it, and the design was widely copied. In the end( 78 ).

the tale, an- t theed on s and Y. He ss - - - ent on h, was olitude.

ratching rness.

im with aft from own the d temple, o lived in f air and him home raft could In the endAntho flew away on another of his journeys and did notreturn. It was said that the winds had taken him.We applauded when the tale was done, and the Harper repeated his last notes ... Antho flying into the setting ofthe suns."Is this tale very old?" asked Diver.

"Bv no means " said the Harper "Antho has been oneno more than twenty springs.""He could be still alive!" I cried. "An ancient-"

The grown-ups all laughed."Hush child," said Gwin, "you heard the Harper. Thewinds took him.""I wonder?" said Brin. "Who is this liege of BeethUlgan's ... the Maker of Engines."It was past the time for our best sleep, and we were folding our clothes into their bags, ready to crawl into ourown.The Harper sighed and hung up his beautiful harp upon the white wall. "Diver," he said, "I have been talking withthe shepherds ... Varb's Five."

"What do they say?" asked Diver."Last spring there were grandees at Whiterock. They leftbehind a treasure that none could put to use."A treasure?" I asked"Their glider came down about half a mile northeast of the rock," grinned Roy. "It lies there yet, covered withhides and branches "

"A glider!" Diver's eyes were shining with excitement.

We knew why the Harper had been unwilling to tell aboutthis treasure."We must look at it tomorrow!" said Diver.

"Will you ... will we all go flying?" asked NarneenDiver looked at us sensina the tension."If your Luck can flv," he said, "then so can you all." Itmade me slee easier When I woke up, in brightish Esder light, before the Great Sun rose, the Harper and Diver had already gone. I ran up onto the roof, struggling with my tunic, and caught sight of them, clear of the glebe, two dark figures striding across the grazing fields. They pa.s.sed into the shadow of the tall rock. I dared not go back down the ladder for fear of waking the others. They would soon be stirring anyway, it was only the darkness of the fixed house that kept them asleep. I looked over the edge of the roof and found more handholds than there were on Hingstull. Down I went, by rain pipe, window edge, and a tree branch. I ran through the glebe and across the gra.s.s in the flat light of Esder, overhead. It was a near thing, but I glimpsed Diver and Roy pa.s.sing into a grove of trees off to the northeast, away from the fold. The wool-deer thumped and chirruped in their stockades; I thought I heard Varb's Five stirring in their tent.

I could have run on and caught up; but instead, out of mischief, or shyness, or because I wanted to go back to the fixed house for breakfast, I decided just to watch. I turned back and climbed the white rock. It made a comfortable vantage point. There was soft gra.s.s growing in the hollows of the rock, young flax plants and berry vines, thick with buds and flowers, the promise of summer fruit. I settled in a warm hollow, closed on three sides with boulders, like a room in the top of a tower.

Diver and Roy were walking through open country now; all that lay before them was a fallen tree with some kind of lean-to against it. The glider must be there. The morning was so still that I could hear the sound of their voices, as they came up to the lean-to and began stripping away hides and dead bushes. Off towards the riverbank a wind flat- tened a clump of tall reeds, snaked through a patch of scrub, made a clump of trees and their shadows waver. But there is no wind, a voice whispered inside my head. "Look child, there is no wind."( so ) ut of the ned rtable11ONVS.

k w ith tied in I like aY now; kind of orning oices, as ay hides ind flat- patch of aver. But ad - "Lookcalled, "Danger . . . dangerWhat then? I whispered in thought, scanning the clumpof trees. There, yes, I see now. A watcher. Only one? I cannot be sure. . . . there. . . . now it is clear. The Great Sun, rising to meet Esder, sent long, golden fingers of light across the land to the east. My eyes were fixed on the spy, the stranger, crouched in bushes, only fifty paces from Diver and Roy as they cheerfully uncovered the alider andwalked around it.I was afraid, uncertain of what to do. What I saw was like a dream and I was in the dream and out of it at the same time. If I shouted a warning, would the cry hang in air and never reach Diver and Rov? Would the watcher bealarmed, angry.The voice in my head asked: "What would you do on the mountain, child?" and I answered; I sr)oke the answer in alow voice."I would high-call to Roy. . . ." And I knew the strana-est thing of all: I was not alone on the rock. There was one who stood at my back, shedding a mild radiance, a feeling of warmth all round me. I was linked in thought, guided, as Beeth Ulgan had guided Mooneen, the poor twirler.

I rose to my feet and high-called with all my skill Harper Roy. The trick is to produce a smooth flow of notes, between singing and calling; I knew it was done right when the back of my throat tickled. The high-call flew out, straight to Roy's ears, like the call of a morning bird. I . . . danver" and then, "Tree. . . tree . . . tree.I saw Harper Roy spring back and lift his head, then give the returning call, "Heard . . . heard . . . heard."

A figure leaped up from the bushes, and Diver gave a shout. He ran forward a few paces, and I was afraid he might use the stun-gun. But the watcher was very quick,racing away now, bent double among the scrub."Have no fear, child; the creature is not worth yourLuck's weanon "( 81 ).

I sank down again and, still deep in the dream, I turned my head. The fire of Esto was in my eyes. A tall figure in black and green, not ten paces away, on the uneven summit of the rock.

"Who?" A bordered robe, long hands, but not the restless bird hands of a grandee. A glint of metal, dull gold, green gold, in one hand, and I knew. I thought the words: "Maker of Engines . . ."

A low chuckling laugh. I put up my hand to screen out Esto's light. The words were spoken this time: "Guard your Luck, Dorn Brinroyan!"

There was a first light gust of wind, stirring the vines, and I was alone.

I climbed down from the rock and ran without looking back through the trees and across the open s.p.a.ces. I was out of breath when I came up to Roy and Diver.

"Now what's this?" said Roy sharply. "Why are you out after us, watching from the rock, high-calling?"

"The watcher . . ." I gasped, pointing towards the place.

"You did warn us, I suppose."

"But what was it?" I begged. "What sort of a person?"

Diver shook his head. "Tall, wild. A male. I have a feeling I've seen that creature before."

"Some outcast," said the Harper, "some wretched berry-picker scavenging for a poor broken Five."

"Well, what do you think of her?" asked Diver proudly.

He meant the glider. It sat on the gra.s.s, free of its coverings, like a fallen insect, a poor flitterling indeed. I had never examined one so closely before, although I knew they were made mostly of bentwood, covered with oiled fabric.

This one was large-fifteen paces long and the wings a good twenty paces if one had not been broken. Yet it seemed a frail thing to sit in, above ground. When I looked more closely still, I saw that the bentwood was very finely worked; two lengths came from the tail in a swooping curve and arched over the pilot's chair. The wing, scalloped along( 82 ).

orcheddly - of its I had they fabric.

a good erned a d more finely g curve ed alongits backward edge, fitted through this arch and was ribbed with short lengths of tough silken cord, most still unbro- ken. The fabric was a silk-weave, fine flax of a pale, clear yellow, mottled and torn in places, or stained with berry juice and bird droppings. The whole contrivance restedlightly on bentwood runners."It is beautiful," I said at last. "But can you make it flyagain?"Diver laughed. "Better than before!"Then he and Roy began to examine the craft again, walking around it, flexing the broken wing, getting down on their haunches to peer between the curves of bentwood.

I was impatient with them and still afraid. There were times when grown-ups had no sense and not enough fear. I sat on the fallen tree, staring through the bushes to the river reeds, the path where the watcher had come and gone. Had he used a boat? I carried the memory of that other watcher, the presence on the rock; the certainty of the experience was not fading but sinking deeper into my mind. If I did not speak soon, I knew I would never tell them, I mightnever tell an oneI had never in my life kept an important thing from my Family. I had scarcely covered up the least mischief, had not bothered to lie about trifles: s.n.a.t.c.hed graynuts, dropped st.i.tches, time spent tree climbing instead of gathering food or dye-herbs. Should I turn away from them now and not try to explain that the Maker of Engines wasprotecting our Luck?Diver and the Harper had hitched ropes to the head of the glider; we cleared the runners and swung it round. Roy called me, and I ran to lift the broken wing off the gra.s.s; theglider swung easily in a half-circle."Back to the fixed house glebe?" asked Diver"We could work on it here more secretly," suggeste Roy."NO"' I cried. "No, by the fire that burned the world!

There is danger . . . the watcher . . . the outcast!"

They smiled but not scornfully. Suddenly Harper R gave a click with his tongue and strode towards t watcher's low tree. I stiffened, wondering if the creatu had returned.

"Easy now. I had a flash that we do know that watcher he said, tugging his chin-lock.

"Yes ... but from where?" asked Diver.

The Harper made the sign that means "Discovery "The twirler! The Leader ... what was his name?"

"Yes!" said Diver. "The twirler ... I never got I name!"

"Petsalee, Host of Spirits!" I cried. I thought again Mooneen, the poor crazed wretch that Beeth Ulgan h enchanted.

"Poor devil. At least he escaped Tiath Gargan," sa Diver. But now the Harper was thoroughly alarmed, an understood why. We tried to make Diver understand.

"He was a spirit warrior, an outcast, that's true . . ." sa the Harper, "but he was also the Leader. Maybe he had little substance, a bag of offerings, or a gift of fortu telling. And we know he fell into the hands of the Pentroy "You mean he was hanged? That was his spirit?" teas Diver.

"No! But did he buy a life?" said Harper Roy.

It was an alternative to death, shameful, so it was sai but possible. A condemned person was sometimes perm ted to buy into va.s.salage ... become a lesser servant, li the clan slaves in ancient times. Diver understood.

"So Petsalee might be Tiath Pentroy's va.s.sal?"

"His spy! His telling-bird!" I whispered.

Diver took it more seriously. He and Roy picked i the ropes, and we went back through the morning field We took a wide detour around the fold and the roc then pushed and dragged and slithered the glider,rig under the spreading trees of the house glebe.( 84 ).

said nd Isaid ad a tune roy!"

easeds said, errnit- nt, liked up g fields.

e rock, er right be. Wewent straiaht indoors and told of our adventuresBrin and Mamor joined with Roy to convince Diver of the risk. Petsalee was deeply suspect and a real threat to our security. He was one of the few who could weave the threads between Beeth Ulgan and our Luck. Mamor was all for scouring the riverbank and capturing the wretched ~(spirit warrior", but we restrained him. Old Gwin still held firmly to the old threads; she could not believe thatsuch a holy person could "buy a life" or turn traitor.

W.- cptth-A In " Int - 0, 1 # A.e e ay o our or nary routine, if life in a fixed house could ever be ordinary, of weaving, cooking, playing, sleeping. Diver began searching up and down for wood and fabric to mend the glider. I was so quiet and worked so well at the mat-loom that Gwin felt my chest to see if I had a fever. I was still clacking away in midafternoon while Gwin dozed and Roy turned aside into another room to change a harp string. Narneen had run off to watch Diver and Mamor working on the glider. I saw Brin leave off her beautiful hanging on the great loom and climb the stairs to the room of evening. I went after her, and we knelt together by the bundles of new work andbedding."What ails you, Dorn Brinroyan?"

"Will you believe I speak the truth?"The storv was a burden to me; it had become false as if ithad happened to another person. There sat Brin, round, soft and tall, in the golden tan vented robe; in the warm light of afternoon I saw her too in the special way I had seen Tiath Gargan on the black barge. I saw her forever: Brin, my pouch-mother. We were not quite alone together, for by this time the hidden child was nickering and stirring inits place. She heard me out and looked me in the face.

I believe you, child." She went on with her sorting for a few moments then asked, "Do you think this is the power of your thought? Are you marked for a Witness, like young I shook my head, a bit regretfully. "No, it is all outsi myself. Or maybe it is the power we all have as childre The Maker of Engines works this will. It could have be performed on any one of us ... except Diver maybe."

Brin sighed. "Gwin waits for a Witness to be born of t Five. She points to Narneen."

I felt a shock of envy, but I remembered certain thinE "Narneen could be a Witness. She feels things before anyus.19 "Well, we won't put ideas in her head."

We smiled at each other, and the burden was lifted; I f comfortable again. I saw for the first time what it was th Brin had been sorting from our bundles. It was t beautiful showing cloth, five yards square, embroider with birds and flowers.

"Yes," said Brin, "it is time. Your sib is too heavy f me.11 I was filled with such excitement that I broke the silen of the golden afternoon; I rushed from room to room telli everyone.

The child had his showing that evening after supper.

asked Diver to find a name. He sat at the edge of t showing cloth, watching our new sib flex its limbs a make baby soundsi He admitted that children of his ra were different: fatter, he said, and not so wide awake.

uttered many strange names, searching for one that went well in one tongue as another. Roy is such a name.

spoke a name To-mas; Gwin and Brin smiled.

"Tomar," chuckled Old Gwin. "Tomar . . ."

It is a good name because it has two meanings: "gr courage" or "great mischief". So there it was-the new o became Tomar, and Brin wove in his name on her skei He was measured, exercised, wrapped and put into N neen's old swing-basket, with the green silk ropes at hands and feet, so that he could pull up and stretch babies do.( 86 ).

"When will he walk?" asked DiverS.

ofelt at the redence Ilingr. We f the s and is race . He ent as e. He"No hurry," said Brin, "ten days or twenty. He may takehis time.""When do your children walk?" asked Mamor.

"A newborn child cannot walk," said Diver."Not newborn," said Gwin, laughing. "New shown!Hark at the Islander.""That's the difference," said Diver.

Now the year was far advanced to the spring; and by thefor"great e,%l one r skeins.

Nar- es at his tretch astime the two suns spent together in the sky, we knew it would soon be New Year's Day. I do not know how the next plan was made ... it seems reckless now. Probably it came from Diver and Mamor, smoothing their pieces of curved wood and drawing in the dust. There is at Otolor Spring Fair a flying contest called Vantroy or the Bird Clan. There is a great prize of silver credits and woven stuff. Brin and Roy, who had gone to the fair as children, had often told us of the strange craft entering, the admira- tion and laughter, the winners ... One they recalled was a sprig of Dohtroy who stood on the seat of her golden glider and flung pearl-sh.e.l.ls to the crowd. Perhaps it was this glorious memory that persuaded Brin to agree that Diver should enter and try his luck. Perhaps she agreed to please Mamor and Diver, thinking, as I did secretly, that the poorglider would never fly.Diver was not troubled by any such doubts. He was out all day by the machine, bending, patching, smoothing, or carving with Roy's knife or his own sharper one, on thosecurious spin-toys of curved wood. He had me cry out every time a flitterling went by, and we examined its design through his gla.s.s. I became familiar with the designs and would cry out, "Green slot-wing" or "Antho broad-tail" or "Pedal fan". The pedal fan models pleased him most, t6ugh his glider would be truly "an engine", and he could not believe that this was quite fair. We a.s.sured him that it k,as. In fact the Bird Clan was the very place where( 87 ).

Ccengines" came into their own. The prohibition against "fire-metal-magic" did not work against the young clans- people who supported the contest. There were machines that flapped, flopped, buzzed, clanked, and gave off sparks and clouds of steam. One promising craft that Roy remem- bered had a sort of metal pot-stove aboard and flew very well until it exploded in midair. Blacklock's entries were notorious for their magic and their complexity.

I used to sit in the gra.s.s beside our glider and shiver with excitement. We were going to Otolor, to the fair, to race in the Bird Clan, and I should see Blacklock at last. Tomar was brought out, for Gwin insisted that a weaver's child must roll in the sun to get rid of its first-fur. He was an exceptional child, I decided; anyone could see that from the way he tugged his swing ropes and smiled and tried to eat gra.s.s and hauled himself up onto his little, gripping tree-bear feet. Diver saw it at once and made his silkbeam pictures of the baby, which he could do, now there was plenty of sunshine.

Fifteen days from the showing, Diver had his spin-toys in position on the nose and on the wings of the glider; he set them in motion with the engines from his vest, which had worked his magic equipment. The only things he did no'

take to pieces were his shaver and his stun-gun. He was pleased with the result; the spin-toys buzzed and spun so fast they were invisible. At this sight Tomar cried out and took four steps. Diver had been busy with his paints from the Ulgan's barge, and there on the glider's side was its new name Tomarvan. We were delighted, because it meant so many things: Tomar's bird, his wing, his flying machine.

Or perhaps it stood for the bird of great courage, the flying machine full of mischief.

Brin had laid aside her vented robe for a short spri tunic; there was that springtime cheerfulness in the Family.

I knew what would come next ... a round of spring garaes: with Old Gwin. There are special games that the ancients 88.ein ar ild an the eat ing earn was-toys e set had d not e was so nd s f rorn its new eant so achine.

e flyingt spring Family.