end of a heavy rope, tied under the dock and stretching out across the
river. But, but the rope didn’t move at all, there was no winch on either shore
or on the boat, and the wizened ancient-looking boatman certainly wasn’t
putting out the effort… As Kirrah watched, the doubled archers and three others
of their party dismounted and stepped their four horses onto the flat bottom of
the barge.
« One bhrak each horse » the
boatsman said (according to her wristcomp), and spat over the far side of the
vessel. The “bh” plosive sounded like a soft cheek-puffing pop of his lips.
« King’s hand » said Irshe,
pointing to the orange-and green braid around his upper arm. The boatsman
squinted up at the men, scowled briefly but nodded and pushed off. And the boat
just kind of swept away from the dock, again without visible effort, but with
its bow still pointing upstream the way they had come, into a current that
looked to be about five or six kph.
So , thought
Kirrah, we have coins, toll ferries, and
official privilege. But how do they make that boat move ? In a
few minutes it came sweeping back across the river, obviously following the
heavy, unmoving rope slung under the water between the two docks, but moving
with no apparent effort by anyone. So, oh lightning goddess, envoy of
advanced civilization and bearer of technological marvels to the grateful
barbarians, how do they make the boat move? Magic? wondered Kirrah.
They loaded the remaining four
horses, hers still tethered to Prax’soua’s, and she, the Corporal, Irshe and
the boy and the remaining soldier stepped on board. The old man simply pushed
off at the bow, and the boat surged out into the current. He then pulled on a
rope lying on the gunwale, and hooked a loop of the rope over a well-worn peg
near the bow. The boat began to move silently toward the opposite shore.
Fascinated, Kirrah traced the rope back to the rudder, which was now pulled to
the left, the ‘ port’ , she automatically corrected. So… that made the
boat turn away from the near bank, and angled it to the current… aha! -
which then pushed it across the river like a kite, doubtless sliding on the
rope via a ring or roller in the bow… without anyone having to do any work! How
very clever , she thought. A water-current-powered boat. Let’s be a bit
more careful about assuming tech levels here .
It was only as they were offloading
the four horses from the second trip, beside the four from the first one, that
she noticed there were only eight horses, and eight soldiers. One horse and
rider were missing. Getting Irshe’s attention Kirrah, after several attempts,
managed to communicate her query.
« Ana’the goes ahead, daethra’ta house of Lord Tsano » attempted the wristcomp. Hmm. A messenger,
warning the king that company is coming. I wonder when he took off, and why I
didn’t notice. Pay closer attention, Lieutenant, it would be nice not to screw
up a first contact by drinking out of the finger bowl. Or misplacing one of
your hosts. Or being ambushed by them. I hope I get a chance to wash up before
dinner…
Their party continued down the
northwest bank of the southwest-flowing river. Within an hour, they were met by
a second group of ten mounted soldiers plus a spare horse to relieve the
doubled riders. Curious fist-to-throat salutes were exchanged, and the combined
group continued, apparently still under Irshe’s command. Names, rank insignia
(orange and white ribbons), different helmets, even different saddles… so
much to absorb and learn. A whole world , thought Kirrah. Give it
time.
Soon tilled fields began to appear
along both sides of the road, which continued to parallel the river’s southwest
course at a distance of two or three hundred meters. Occasional small wood and
stone dwellings and sheds, and small groups of men, women and children working
in the fields completed the picture of a peaceful agrarian society. Kirrah
noted the occasional casual wave or
river. But, but the rope didn’t move at all, there was no winch on either shore
or on the boat, and the wizened ancient-looking boatman certainly wasn’t
putting out the effort… As Kirrah watched, the doubled archers and three others
of their party dismounted and stepped their four horses onto the flat bottom of
the barge.
« One bhrak each horse » the
boatsman said (according to her wristcomp), and spat over the far side of the
vessel. The “bh” plosive sounded like a soft cheek-puffing pop of his lips.
« King’s hand » said Irshe,
pointing to the orange-and green braid around his upper arm. The boatsman
squinted up at the men, scowled briefly but nodded and pushed off. And the boat
just kind of swept away from the dock, again without visible effort, but with
its bow still pointing upstream the way they had come, into a current that
looked to be about five or six kph.
So , thought
Kirrah, we have coins, toll ferries, and
official privilege. But how do they make that boat move ? In a
few minutes it came sweeping back across the river, obviously following the
heavy, unmoving rope slung under the water between the two docks, but moving
with no apparent effort by anyone. So, oh lightning goddess, envoy of
advanced civilization and bearer of technological marvels to the grateful
barbarians, how do they make the boat move? Magic? wondered Kirrah.
They loaded the remaining four
horses, hers still tethered to Prax’soua’s, and she, the Corporal, Irshe and
the boy and the remaining soldier stepped on board. The old man simply pushed
off at the bow, and the boat surged out into the current. He then pulled on a
rope lying on the gunwale, and hooked a loop of the rope over a well-worn peg
near the bow. The boat began to move silently toward the opposite shore.
Fascinated, Kirrah traced the rope back to the rudder, which was now pulled to
the left, the ‘ port’ , she automatically corrected. So… that made the
boat turn away from the near bank, and angled it to the current… aha! -
which then pushed it across the river like a kite, doubtless sliding on the
rope via a ring or roller in the bow… without anyone having to do any work! How
very clever , she thought. A water-current-powered boat. Let’s be a bit
more careful about assuming tech levels here .
It was only as they were offloading
the four horses from the second trip, beside the four from the first one, that
she noticed there were only eight horses, and eight soldiers. One horse and
rider were missing. Getting Irshe’s attention Kirrah, after several attempts,
managed to communicate her query.
« Ana’the goes ahead, daethra’ta house of Lord Tsano » attempted the wristcomp. Hmm. A messenger,
warning the king that company is coming. I wonder when he took off, and why I
didn’t notice. Pay closer attention, Lieutenant, it would be nice not to screw
up a first contact by drinking out of the finger bowl. Or misplacing one of
your hosts. Or being ambushed by them. I hope I get a chance to wash up before
dinner…
Their party continued down the
northwest bank of the southwest-flowing river. Within an hour, they were met by
a second group of ten mounted soldiers plus a spare horse to relieve the
doubled riders. Curious fist-to-throat salutes were exchanged, and the combined
group continued, apparently still under Irshe’s command. Names, rank insignia
(orange and white ribbons), different helmets, even different saddles… so
much to absorb and learn. A whole world , thought Kirrah. Give it
time.
Soon tilled fields began to appear
along both sides of the road, which continued to parallel the river’s southwest
course at a distance of two or three hundred meters. Occasional small wood and
stone dwellings and sheds, and small groups of men, women and children working
in the fields completed the picture of a peaceful agrarian society. Kirrah
noted the occasional casual wave or
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