Ehomba pondered, then shouted again. “Hunkapa! Brace yourself against Ahlitah and hold me! Hold me as high up as you can!”
“Yes, Etjole! Hunkapa do!”
The litah set itself immovably against the back railing, the claws of each paw nailing themselves to the deck. Then Hunkapa Aub stepped across the cat’s back and straddled him, locking his shaggy ankles beneath the feline belly. With Hunkapa thus anchored to the litah, and Ahlitah fastened firmly to the deck, Hunkapa put huge, hirsute hands around the herdsman’s waist and lifted him skyward. The Grömsketter rocked in the wind and waves, she rolled and pitched, but on her helm deck the unlikely pyramid of cat, man-beast, and herdsman rode rigid and straight.
Holding the haft of the sky-metal sword in both hands, Ehomba raised the otherworldly blade skyward, lifting it into the storm. When the flat, etched blade began to glow an impossibly deep, spectral blue, Simna immediately sought cover from something that he knew was more powerful than the conflicted storm itself.
A gust struck the pulsating glow—and bounced off, shearing away to the west. A complete concentrated squall bore down on Ehomba, only to find itself shattered into a thousand timid zephyrs. Swinging the great blade, secure in Hunkapa Aub’s powerful grasp, Ehomba battled the winds.
No stranger to danger, Stanager crouched close by Simna and looked on in astonishment. “Ayesh, I was wrong to doubt you about your friend: It’s a sorcerer he is!”
“Hoy, ask and he’ll tell you it’s not him but the sword that wreaks the magic. A sword he did not make himself, but that was given to him. No wizard he, he’ll tell you again and again. Just a herder of cattle and sheep lucky enough to have learned friends.”