flags broken out and hauled aloft, determined to show the Kraken that it was not
the only one that could alter the color and design of its appearance.
How much lost time this astonishing tandem journey recovered Stanager was not prepared to say, though it was evident from
her expression when the Kraken, tiring of the game, finally let them go, that it was significant. Flashing a kaleidoscope
of colors and patterns at them as it sank beneath the swells, the sea’s most intimidating monster disappeared back into the
depths from which the king of crabs had originally called it forth.
The lesson of the extraordinary encounter was not lost on the members of the
Grömsketter
’s crew. To wit: Never wag an unknowing finger at a squid, and when crossing those stretches of ocean that are endlessly wide
and eternally deep, always carry a sufficiency of coffee.
VI
The Land of the Faceless People
P eople invariably fight with their neighbors. How often and how seriously is just a matter of degree. It did not start out
that way in the Tilo Islands. Originally, it is said, in the days when settlers first arrived, necessity compelled everyone
to cooperate. Survival took precedence over the usual petty human squabbles and disputes. Imposing predators lived on several
of the islands, notably Greater Tilo and Hookk. Dealing with them was a matter of concern for the entire community.
Eventually, farms spread across all the islands, of which there were six that boasted cultivatable land. Towns were raised,
and fishermen set forth in small boats to net the silversides that gathered in substantial numbers in the shallows. A few
hearty folk even settled the rock-strewn smaller islets. They could not farm there, but individual gardens were made possible
by soil patiently carried boatload by boatload from Greater Tilo, Hookk, and Gyre. And there were always the eggs of nesting
seabirds to collect and sell in season.
The settlers of the Tilos prospered. So isolated were theislands that they were never threatened by seafaring raiders. The climate was congenial, with only occasional severe winters
and drenching summers. No one much minded, as long as the fields continued to yield significant crops. With the use of guano
hauled from the seabird rookeries, the fertility of the land was not only maintained but enhanced. There was even a modest
deposit of dragonet guano, which as any farmer knows makes by far the best fertilizer due to the eclectic nature of dragon
diet.
How and when the disputes began no one can say. History being a succession of individual memories clouded by lies and personal
agendas, it was impossible to ascribe blame. Some insist it all started when a rogue from Greater Tilo stole away the love
of a Gyre man’s wife. Others believe it had something to do with cheating involving a load of potatoes from Basweath, potatoes
being the staple food crop and therefore a matter of some gravity among the Tiloeans. Still others insisted the arguments
began when a group of villagers on Middle Tilo took to calling an old woman by the name of Granni Scork a witch.
Disagreements soon gave way to fighting. Shifting alliances between islands and even between individual villages were made
and broken. Fights occasionally escalated into full-blown battles. Crops were carried off or destroyed, fishing nets stolen
or shredded, young women treated with less than the respect that had formerly been accorded to them. Given the vagaries of
weather that seasonally assaulted the islands, these clashes drew much-needed muscle and energy away from the business of
growing and gathering food, repairing and building homes and shops, and generally maintaining the seemly level of civilization
that the Tiloeans had hitherto enjoyed.
It was at this point (though no one can put a precise date to it) that a fed-up Granni Scork revealed to one and all that
she was actually truly indeed a witch, as had been
the only one that could alter the color and design of its appearance.
How much lost time this astonishing tandem journey recovered Stanager was not prepared to say, though it was evident from
her expression when the Kraken, tiring of the game, finally let them go, that it was significant. Flashing a kaleidoscope
of colors and patterns at them as it sank beneath the swells, the sea’s most intimidating monster disappeared back into the
depths from which the king of crabs had originally called it forth.
The lesson of the extraordinary encounter was not lost on the members of the
Grömsketter
’s crew. To wit: Never wag an unknowing finger at a squid, and when crossing those stretches of ocean that are endlessly wide
and eternally deep, always carry a sufficiency of coffee.
VI
The Land of the Faceless People
P eople invariably fight with their neighbors. How often and how seriously is just a matter of degree. It did not start out
that way in the Tilo Islands. Originally, it is said, in the days when settlers first arrived, necessity compelled everyone
to cooperate. Survival took precedence over the usual petty human squabbles and disputes. Imposing predators lived on several
of the islands, notably Greater Tilo and Hookk. Dealing with them was a matter of concern for the entire community.
Eventually, farms spread across all the islands, of which there were six that boasted cultivatable land. Towns were raised,
and fishermen set forth in small boats to net the silversides that gathered in substantial numbers in the shallows. A few
hearty folk even settled the rock-strewn smaller islets. They could not farm there, but individual gardens were made possible
by soil patiently carried boatload by boatload from Greater Tilo, Hookk, and Gyre. And there were always the eggs of nesting
seabirds to collect and sell in season.
The settlers of the Tilos prospered. So isolated were theislands that they were never threatened by seafaring raiders. The climate was congenial, with only occasional severe winters
and drenching summers. No one much minded, as long as the fields continued to yield significant crops. With the use of guano
hauled from the seabird rookeries, the fertility of the land was not only maintained but enhanced. There was even a modest
deposit of dragonet guano, which as any farmer knows makes by far the best fertilizer due to the eclectic nature of dragon
diet.
How and when the disputes began no one can say. History being a succession of individual memories clouded by lies and personal
agendas, it was impossible to ascribe blame. Some insist it all started when a rogue from Greater Tilo stole away the love
of a Gyre man’s wife. Others believe it had something to do with cheating involving a load of potatoes from Basweath, potatoes
being the staple food crop and therefore a matter of some gravity among the Tiloeans. Still others insisted the arguments
began when a group of villagers on Middle Tilo took to calling an old woman by the name of Granni Scork a witch.
Disagreements soon gave way to fighting. Shifting alliances between islands and even between individual villages were made
and broken. Fights occasionally escalated into full-blown battles. Crops were carried off or destroyed, fishing nets stolen
or shredded, young women treated with less than the respect that had formerly been accorded to them. Given the vagaries of
weather that seasonally assaulted the islands, these clashes drew much-needed muscle and energy away from the business of
growing and gathering food, repairing and building homes and shops, and generally maintaining the seemly level of civilization
that the Tiloeans had hitherto enjoyed.
It was at this point (though no one can put a precise date to it) that a fed-up Granni Scork revealed to one and all that
she was actually truly indeed a witch, as had been
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