The Second Book of Lankhmar

for seven pine planks, two slabs of oak, and peppercorn Cook wanted. We harvested the field of ear-corn and whitewashed the barn. Gilgy seems healed of his sunstroke."
           "The wood was seasoned?" Mouser asked testily. Pshawri nodded. "Then next time say so. I like conciseness, but not at the expense of precision."
           Skullick took up. "Skor had us careen Seahawk, Captain Fafhrd, it being Satyrs' lowest tide, what with moon's full tomorrow night, and we finished copper-sheathing her steerside. There was a wildfowl hunt. I took Kringle fishing. We caught naught."
           "Enough," Fafhrd said, waving him silent. "What's this news of import, Ourph?"
           Afreyt arose, saying, "It can wait on courtesy. Gentlemen, join us. There are places set."
           The three others nodded thanks and moved to the well to rinse up, but the ancient Mingol held his ground, bending on Fafhrd a gaze black as his long-skirted tunic and saying portentously, "Captain, as I did take my watch upon the headland, in midafternoon, the sun being halfway descended to the west, I looked toward the great Maelstrom that for this year and half year, this last six seasons, has been still as mountain lake, unnaturally so, and I saw it 'gin to stir and keep on stirring, slowly, slowly, slowly, as though the sea were thick as witch's brew."
           To everyone's surprise, the Mouser cried out a long loud "What?" rising to his feet and glaring direly. "What's that you say, you dismal dodderer? You black spider of ill omen! You dried-up skeleton!"
           "No, Mouser, he speaks true," Groniger reproved him, returning to take his place prepared next to the women. "I saw it with my own eyes! The currents have come right again at last and Rime Isle's whirlpool is spinning sluggishly. With any luck — and help of northern storm that's gathering — she'll spin ashore the rest of the Mingol wrecks for us to salvage, along with other ships have sunken since. Cheer up, friend."
           The Mouser glowered at him. "You calculating miser greedy for gray driftwood gain! No, there are things sea-buried there I would not have fished up again. Hark ye, old Ourph! Ere the 'pool 'gan spin, saw ye any ill-doers sniffing about? I smell wizard's work."
           "No wizards, Captain Mou, no one at all," the ancient Mingol averred. "Pshawri and Skullick — " he waved toward the two taking places farther down the table " — took Kringle there earlier and anchored for a while. They will confirm my statement."
           "What?" Again that low-shrieking, long-drawn-out accusatory word sped from the Mouser's lips as he swung glaring toward the two Ourph had mentioned. "You took out Kringle ? Meddled in the Maelstrom?"
           "What matter?" Skullick retorted boldly. "I told you we went fishing. We anchored for a while. And Pshawri did one dive." Old Ourph nodded. "Nothing at all."
           "Fafhrd can deal with you," the Mouser told him dismissingly. Then, focusing on his own man, "What mischief were you up to, Pshawri? What were you diving for? What did you hope to find? Plunging in Maelstrom's midst without my order or permission? What did you bring up with you from the dive?"
           Flushing darkly, "Captain, you do me wrong," Pshawri replied, looking him straight in the eye. "Skullick can answer for me. He was there."
           "He brought up nothing," Skullick said flatly. "And whatever he might have brought up, I'm sure he would have saved to give to you."
           "I do not believe you," the Mouser said. "You're insubordinate, both of you. With you, Lieutenant Pshawri, I can deal. For the rest of this moon you are demoted to common seaman. At new moon I will reconsider your case. Until then the matter is closed. I wish to hear no more of it."
           Fafhrd spoke from mouth's corner to Afreyt beside him. "Two temper tantrums in one evening! No question, the old-age curse still grips him."
           Afreyt whispered back, "I think he's taking out on Pshawri what's left of his strange anger at the Fingers girl."
           Pshawri: Captain, you wrong me.
           Mouser: I said "No more!"
           Ourph: Cap Mou, I singled out your lieutenant and Fafhrd's sergeant to bear me witness, not accuse 'em of aught.
           Groniger: We of Rime Isle abhor wizardry, superstition, and ill-speaking all. Life's bad enough without them.
           Skullick: