Voyage to City of the Dead by Alan Dean Foster

Author:Alan Dean Foster [Foster, Alan Dean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 0450398749
Publisher: New English Library
Published: 1986-08-31T22:34:52+00:00

“Wait a minute.” Lyra looked confused. “What about what you just said, Tyl, about loving peace and not harming anyone?”

Etienne shushed her. “Don’t confuse our guests. Let’s see what these pacifists can do when they want to, shall we? Think of it as an interesting footnote to your research.”

She gave him an angry stare, but said nothing. They hid themselves beneath a section of sail as the Tsla rowed the boats into shore. He had a sudden crazy urge to pinch her but managed to suppress it.

At first the patrol ordered both boats to stand off, but on sight of the Tsla they allowed them to dock.

Etienne listened hard. At any moment he expected the sail to be thrown aside and to find himself eye to eye with a long spear.

Then there was the sound of muffled struggling and he and Lyra emerged from their temporary cocoon with pistols at the ready. They might as well have relaxed beneath the cloth.

Tyl and the porters had no trouble with the patrol. Yulour in particular distinguished himself, exercising his great strength with a caution that was frightening to see. Etienne made a mental note to leave the teasing to Yulour’s companions.

The entire patrol had been neatly silenced. Etienne was full of newfound respect for their philosopher-guide as he helped him and the other Tsla slip the guards into the river, but he couldn’t help but wonder at this facile contravention of established Tsla tenets. Time enough later for social analysis, he told himself curtly. First order of business was to get their boat back, not discuss Tsla motivation.

Having gone ahead to scout out the approach, Homat now beckoned them forward. Soon they were standing next to the impressive palisade of logs that girdled the town. There were plenty of slots cut in the wood through which archers could aim and fire on attackers. The openings near the harbor showed only the backsides of buildings, but as they made their way around the stockade, gaps appeared which permitted a view deeper into the community.

Eventually they located a small pedestrian gate. It was unguarded and swung wide at Homat’s touch and they stepped inside, concealing themselves behind a square storage building.

From the slurred shouts they could now hear clearly, it was evident that plenty of drinking and drug-taking was going on. As they moved toward the center of the town they had a glimpse of unsteady revelers falling down in unexpected places, and nearly tripped over several who had celebrated themselves into unconsciousness.

Ahead lay the town square, a place of ceremony and money-making among the Mai. Smack in the center of the paved square, surrounded by celebratory bonfires, was the Redowls’ hydrofoil. The fires were maintained at a reasonable distance from the boat, not out of any fear of harming it but to ensure the safety of the wooden cage in which it rested. The chanting was loud now and terribly off-key. Etienne looked to his wife, saw with disgust but not surprise that she was furiously whispering a description of the celebration into her note-taker.

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