The Second Book of Lankhmar

blew west) only to discover that they'd spent an unconscionable time underground and it was already evening. After seeing to Rill's hand, badly burned by the Loki-torch, they'd had to hurry back to Salthaven for conferences with all and sundry — hardly time to compare notes with Cif on the whole cavern experience....
           And now he had to break off to help Mikkidu instruct the six Rimeland replacements for the thieves they'd lost to Sea Hawk — how to man the sweeps and so forth.
           And that was no sooner done (matter of a few low-voiced instructions to Mikkidu, chiefly) than here came Cif climbing ahoard, followed by Rill, Hilsa, and Mother Grum — all of them save for the last in sailorly trousers and jackets with knives at their belts. Rill's right arm was in a sling.
           "Here we are, yours to command, captain," Cif said brightly.
           "Dear councilwoman." the Mouser answered, his heart sinking, " Flotsam can't sail into possible battle with women aboard, especially — " He let a meaningful look serve for " — whores and witches."
           "Then we'li man Sprite and follow you after," she told him, not at all downcast. "Or rather range ahead to be the first to sight the Sunwise Mingols — you know Sprite 's a fast sailer. Yes, perhaps that's best, a women's fighting-ship for soldieresses."
           The Mouser submitted to the inevitable with what grace he could muster. Rill and Hilsa beamed. Cif touched his arm commiseratingly.
           "I'm glad you agreed," she said. "I'd already loaned Sprite to three other women." But then her face grew serious as she lowered her voice to say. "There is a matter that troubles me you should know. We were going to bring god Loki aboard in a firepot, as yesterday he traveled in Rill's torch — "
           "Can't have fire aboard a ship going into battle," the Mouser responded automatically. "Besides, look how Rill got burned."
           "But this morning, for the first time in over a year, we found the fire in the Flame Den unaccountably gone out," Cif finished. "We sifted the ashes. There was not a spark."
           "Well," said the Mouser thoughtfully, "perhaps yesterday at the great rock face after he flamed so high the god temporarily shifted his dwelling to the mountain's fiery heart. See how she smokes!" And he pointed toward Darkfire, where the black column going off westward was thicker.
           "Yes, but we don't have him at hand that way," Cif objected troubledly.
           "Well, at any rate he's still on the Island," the Mouser told her. "And in a sense, I'm sure, on Flotsam too," he added, remembering (it made his fire-stung fingers smart anew) the black torch-end he still had in his pouch. That was another thing, he told himself, that wanted thinking about....
           But just then Dwone came sailing close by to report the Rime fleet ready for action and hardly to be held back. The Mouser had perforce to get Flotsam underway, hoisting what sail she could carry for the beat against the wind, and setting his thieves and their green replacements to sweeping while Ourph beat time, so that she'd be able to keep ahead of the handier fishing craft.
           There were cheers from the shore and the other ships and for a short while the Mouser was able to bask in self-satisfaction at Flotsam moving out so bravely at the head of the fleet, and his crew so well disciplined, and (he could see) Pshawri handling Sea Hawk nicely enough, and Cif standing beside him, glowing-eyed — and himself a veritable admiral, no less, by Mog!
           But then the thoughts which he hadn't had time to straighten all day began to cark him again. Above all else he realized that there was something altogether foolhardy, in fact utterly ridiculous, about them all setting sail so confidently with only one hare-brained plan of action, on nothing more than the crackling word of a fire, the whisper of burning twigs. Still he had a compelling feeling in his bones that they were doing the right thing and nothing could harm them, and he would peradventure find the Mingol fleet and that another wonderful inspiration would come to him at the last minute....
           At that moment his eye lit on Mikkidu sweeping with considerable style in the bowmost steerside position and he came to a decision.
           "Ourph, take the tiller and take her out," he directed. "Call time to the