Southbound among early ice floes, they soon left behind them all trace of Inuit, who had not yet gotten that far down from the” north. Rounding the cape at the bottom of the island, the pair met dolphins who did bear a word to stir hearts-word of magic a-prowl farther up the west coast. The dolphins could scarcely say more; yonder wasn’t their range, and what they got was mere gossip such as they loved to pass onward. Nor did they care to go look; the whisper went that this was a very dangerous sorcery.
It might simply appear to be so, Tauno and Eyjan decided. For instance, the founding of a New Liri could well frighten creatures who had never seen or dreamed of an underwater town. And, whatever was going on, they had a need to know about it more: nearly. …
From humans back home to whom they had been close, they were aware of how matters stood ashore in Greenland. The Norse had three settlements on this side, where climate was less harsh than elsewhere. Oldest, biggest, and southernmost was the East-ern, the Ostri Bygd. Not far from it lay the Mid Bygd. A goodly way north, despite its name, was a later Western settlement, the Vestri Bygd. The tales of menace came out of that last.
Tauno and Eyjan swam toward it. The season was now well along into fall.
VII
AN umiak was traveling with land to starboard, at the center of a school of kayaks. The merman’s children broached half a mile off, cleared their lungs, and poised where they were that they might take stock in safety. Shark, orca, storm, reef, riptide had winnowed faintheartedness out of their bloodline, but had also taught caution.
“Deeming by what the dolphins said, the… thing. . . here-abouts is a foe to white men,” Tauno reminded. “Thus, if the matter isn’t just that our kith have had to defend themselves against attack, it must be Inuit work. I’d as soon not get a harpoon in me because I’m taken for a white man.”
“Oh, nonsense!” Eyjan answered. “I’d never known folk can be as gentle as those who guested us.”
“A different set from these, sister mine. And I heard stories about murders done once in a while.”
“If naught else, they’ll see we can’t be of common earth. What we must avoid is not assault, but frightening them off. Let’s go ahead slowly, wearing our cheeriest faces.”
“And ready to plunge. Aye, then.”
Air-breathing, they slanted to intercept the convoy. They felt
the frigidity of the water, but not in the torn and gnawed way that a mortal would; to them, it slid caressingly past every muscle, stoking warmth up within them, tasting not alone of salt but of countless subtler things, life and deeps and distances. Choppy, it rocked them as they went-whitecaps a thousand shades of blue black overlaid by a shimmer of green. It whooshed and gurgled; afar on the coast it roared. A west wind blew sharp-edged under a silver-gray sky where wrack flew like smoke. Gulls filled heaven with wings and cries. To right the land rose steeply, darkling cliffs, glimpses of autumn-yellowed meadows tucked in sheltered nooks, peaks where snow lay hoar, and beyond these a bleak-brightness that told of inland ice.
Their attention was mainly on thi( boats. Those within must have gone on some such errand as fowling, and be homebound; no Inuit dwelt quite as far south as the Norse. The umiak was a big canoe, leather across a framework of whalebone and drift-wood, paddled by a score of women. As many kayaks accom-panied it, each bearing its man. AIl the gang were merry; their shouts and laughter blew among the guIls’ mewings, the waves’ squelpings. Tauno and Eyjan saw one young feIlow lay alongside the skin boat and speak to a woman who had to be his mother, nursing her newest babe: for she dropped her paddle, hoisted her jacket, and gave him a quick drink at her breast.
Another spied the swimmers. A yeIl awoke. Sword-blade-thin, the kayaks darted toward them.
“Keep behind me, Eyjan,” Tauno said. “Hold your spear under the surface ready to use.” He himself trod water, repeatedly lifting his hands to show they were empty. His thews thrummed.