Chapter 5: Village of the Swimmers

"Don't shoot!"

KeeBar caught at Amy's arm as she brought the carbine to her shoulder. His eyes, better adapted than hers to the reddish morning light, had caught a clear picture of their attackers, and he knew that they were of his own race.

"Who are you? What do you here? What are these creatures with you? Do they hold you captive?" The challenge came from the leader of the group of lizardmen. From all sides of the raft, bonetipped spears menaced them.

"I am KeeBar, of the village Kee. These are friends of my chief," he stated boldly. "We were cast away by the storm. We need help to get back to our people."

"What you say may or may not be true. It is not for us to decide. This will need much talking, before our village council. My men will take your raft to our village."

KeeBar quickly explained to his friends what had been said. The outgoing tide had swept the entire party a short distance out to sea, and now the swimmers grasped the sides of the raft. They drew it along the surface at a pace that made the water boil under its bow as it rose and fell with the long ocean swells.

"Do you really think that they will help us?" Suspicion edged Steve's flat tones, and he looked longingly at Amy's carbine.

"I not know. It bad that they not tell me name of their village. Some tribes not like strange things."

"At least, they're taking us in the right direction." Pete's expression wasn't very enthusiastic.

"What do you think they will do," Amy asked.

"That depend on what chief decide. He not see ones like you before. May not know of Kee tribe. If he afraid of strange things, it be bad. If he not afraid, maybe he help us on our way."

Huddled together in their swiftly moving raft, they did little talking as their captors brought them to where a steepsided hill rose from the waters, well outside the ridge that separated the swamps from the ocean. On its flattened crest, they could see an orderly array of huts spread neatly around a larger building. As they stepped out on shore, Pete could see that their captors were more heavily built than the men of KeeBar's tribe, with shorter arms and legs. Also, the webbing between their fingers and toes was more extensive, hinting at a long adaptation to an even more aquatic environment than KeeBar's swamps.

A low pedestal of carved stone flanked by pairs of guards was set in front of the door of the largest building. On it, crouched at his ease, was the oldest lizardman Pete had yet seen. Standing erect, he would have towered at least six and a half feet tall, but his scales were dulled, and his skin hung in folds over what was little more than a bony framework. His eyes were sharp, though. When he opened his mouth to speak, revealing timedulled fangs, his voice was clear and incisive.

"Whence come these strange ones? Where did you come upon them? What manner of being are they?"

The leader of the hunting party reported briefly how they had been captured, then KeeBar stepped forward.

"I am KeeBar, of the village Kee. I bring greetings from my chief to the chief of this village. May I ask his name?"

"First, tell me of these others you bring. Where they are from. What they are doing here. They are not of the 'Chosen Ones'." The chief's words were a flat accusation.

"They are friends and guests of Kee, the chief of Kee village. They come from another world, seeking to learn of our land, and to trade with our people. They have many wondrous things, and much new knowledge to share with us. We were all in one of their new things, a kind of boat that floats through the clouds. The storm took us, and threw us down on a hill by where your people found us, breaking our air boat. We had but started on our return voyage, when your men found us and brought us here."

"Do these strange ones not speak our tongue?"

"One of them has some of our speech. The others know it not. I speak some of their words, also."

"Let the one who speaks our tongue step forward," the chief commanded. "We would hear his words for ourselves. Let him speak for himself and his people."

"I am Pete Riley, of the tribe of Man. I come in peace and honor, asking aid of the chief of this village for myself and for these of my tribe."

The old chief stared unblinking at Pete for a long minute.

"You speak well, ManPete. The chief of village Thallan welcomes you and your people in peace and honor. Of aid, we will speak later." Chief Thallan rose and stepped down from his pedestal, motioning his guards away. "You are made free of Thallan village until the time of the evening meal."

"What did he say?" "Is he going to help us?" Pete was bombarded with questions the moment that the old chief was gone.

"He just said that we were welcome, for now," Pete explained. "He's plenty sharp. He will want to talk with us some more before he makes up his mind, that's for sure."

"He did give us name of tribe," KeeBar added. "That very good sign. Now, he not have us driven away, or killed. He either help us, or let us go."

"At least, we aren't losing any time," observed Amy. "His hunters brought us a lot farther than we could have traveled in one day by our own efforts."

The rest of the day was spent wandering about the village, watched closely by everyone from the youngest hatchlings to the oldest lizardmen and women. As Pete had surmised, the villagers spent much of their time in the water. They dove and swam with otterlike agility, staying under water for times and distances impossible for any warmblooded human. Pete was particularly impressed by the ease with which the younger swimmers could catch, barehanded, the clumsy armorplated fish that swarmed in these coastal waters.

He was commenting on their speed and agility to Nancy, when a warning shriek jerked his head around. Out past the first line of breakers, a hideously fanged head lifted at the end of a slender neck, then darted down at a fleeing swimmer. Just as the teeth were closing, Amy lifted the carbine to her shoulder, firing a short burst.

At a range of only a few dozen yards, the tiny, highvelocity slugs tore into the looping neck, tumbling and fragmenting as they struck. The head drooped limply as its connection with the finned body was nearly severed. The youths darted for the shore, helping one of their number whose leg left reddish stains in the water as she swam. Adult hunters with ready spears guarded against the chance of there being more than one of the killer beasts, while others brought the twitching body of the slain monster in to shore. The old chief, Thallan, carefully inspected the ruin that had been its neck, asking to see the weapon that had done the damage.

"... For it was my youngest daughter, Thanna, who had been marked for death when your weapon spoke."

"Go ahead and show him how it works," Pete told Amy, waving the protesting Steve to silence. She showed Thallan the workings of the carbine as Steve watched with unspoken disapproval. The chief marveled at the intricate workmanship, and the liberal use of the precious metal, iron in the weapon.

"It is plain to see that you speak truth," he commented, wistfully. "This 'kharbinh' did not come from the world that we know. What have the Great Ones to say, concerning these new and wondrous things?"

"Word has been sent to the Great Ones," KeeBar answered. "But their answer has not yet been brought back to our chief."

"A thing which does such good cannot be evil," Thallan decided, after a long moment's cogitation. "Until word from the Great Ones is brought to us, we must act on our own."

The girl's leg was bound with clean leaves and moss, fastened in place with lengths of pliant vine. The wounds weren't deep, and she was soon running and playing with the other youths though she stayed out of the water. The body of the dead lizard was towed off to the other side of the island to be butchered. There, the smell of its leavings would not attract any large scavengers to the vicinity of the village.

"They make ready for big feast, tonight," KeeBar confirmed Amy's guess. "For to honor guests, and for death of seabeast. Much meat for all."

He trotted off to watch the preparations for the feast. Pete noticed the chief's daughter limping along after him, earnestly plying him with questions.

"It looks like young KeeBar has found himself a friend," Nancy laughed.