Within the hour, they smelled smoke and spotted signs of a camp not far away. However, it was the Stranger girl who showed them where by pulling aside a thick bush.
The Strander girl motioned with her head and the left hand still holding the dagger forward, so the group could walk into the camp.
And they did so. Tink went in first, then Janner and the others followed. The air smelled of wood smoke, sweat, and stew.
Elisheva glanced around. The Strander campsite looked like a hobo jungle from the 1930's, only without the train or any modern conveniences from that era.
There were several makeshift tents and hammocks made of old fabrics hanging from the trees, roughly made. The people looked rough, too. The inhabitants here were filthy, bedraggled, and seemed content to be so.
Some were chopping wood and other objects with an axe into firewood. One man was sorting through trinkets. Several men were placing up poled or broken spears, no doubt ready to make another tent. A man leaned against a tree trunk and from the hammocks several Strander boys glared at the newcomers. From a far corner, a young teen and his mother were sharpening fang blades.
Janner turned to the right, and stopped in his tracks. He was staring at something.
Elisheva followed his gaze and saw that half hidden among stray bashes and the shadows of the trees were... cages. Pretty big ones too, enough to fit a short person.
But what were they for?
The Strander girl saw them staring and silently threatened Janner with a knife. Janner moved on to the campsite, Elisheva and the Strander girl glared daggers at each other.
Finally the girl lead them to a fire where a stove was cooking. Seated on a stool, hunched over was a man that appeared to be eating.
"May we come near?" The Strander girl asked.
"Where's the meat?" The man grunted.
"I sent Banikon and others to fetch it." The girl replied.
Judging from the girl's posture and body language, this had to be the leader of the Stranders.
The man wiped his mouth on his right sleeve and stood up then turned to face the girl and the group. He had a long beard that hung in matted locks. He wore his hair back, revealing a high dirty forehead with a jagged scar across it. "Aye, come near." the man replied.
Warily, the girl approached as did other Strander children carrying from the groups' packs and weapons. They had rifled through them, pocketing food and matches and whatever else they fancied. They showed little interest in the First Book, the whistleharp, and Tink's sketchbook let alone Elisheva's new journal.
"I found these here traveling the woods. Had weapons." The Strander girl said.
"We don't aim to stay long." Podo said.
"I'll say when you stay and when you go." The Strander man sneered. He then began circling the group like a predator looking for an opening to strike. "Where'd you come from?"
"Glipwood. But there's not much of it left." Podo replied.
Elisheva did her best to hold her tongue as the man eyed them with utter contempt. Despite the unanimous peril, she didn't like the implication that aside from being thieving cutthroats, the Stranders could turn out to be cannibals.
When man had begun circling the company, most of them froze. Elisheva had furiously glowered back, refusing to be intimidated. She did not travel this far with the Igibys surviving hordes of Fangs, malicious ridgerunners, giant roaches and two trolls just to be bossed around by bullying crooks.
The leader turned to his clan and raised his voice. "Stranders!"
"Of the East Bend!" they answered.
"Quick hands! sharp daggers!" he cried.
"No law!" The other Stranders shouted.
"My name is Claxton Weaver," the Strander leader man said. "I'm a thief, a wanderer and a swinger of steel. I don't like Fangs, I don't like strangers, and I don't like rules. These are my people, and this is my camp, and we'd just as soon toss ye into the river as let ye have another scrap of our meat. So you'd better think of somethin' you can do for me that'll help me understand why I should let ye keep breathin'."
Podo considered the man for a moment and said, "You can have our food and weapons if you let us go safe and hale." Then the old pirate's voice deepened and his nostrils flared like a mad horse's. "But if that's not enough, then ye need to know that my name's Podo Helmer, and I roved the Strand before you were born, with none other than Growlfist and the Pounders. Don't look so surprised, laddie. I crept the West Redoubt with Yule Borron by the light of the Hanger Moon. I've sailed the Mighty Blapp a hundred times, from here to the edge of the map, and I can fight with hands, teeth, and even me eyebrows if it comes to it. Do you understand what I'm sayin'?"
Claxton Weaver stood aghast, his face so wretched and alarming that even Tink stood upright. Nia pulled Leeli close. Janner's body tensed, so did Elisheva. The Stranders around the fire sat still as stone.
Podo stood and looked into Claxton's eyes. "But listen here, Weaver. I can see you rule this bend in the river. I'm old and one-legged, but I'm no fool. If it's strangers ye don't like, then save it for the next ones that scrape into yer bend. I'm as much a Strander as you are, I'm no Fang, and I've offered you everything we have. If that's not enough, then we'll fight you like dragons."
Claxton's eyes narrowed and burned with a cold light. A fierce look passed between the two men, as if all the darkness in each man's soul poured out and fought a great battle in the space between them. It wasn't clear who won, but Claxton appeared satisfied that Podo was at least a worthy enemy, if not a comrade.
"Then I found a reason to allow you to live, Podo Helmer. Yer going to tell us a tale an account of the Strand in the days of yer youth." He then made sarcastic gestures with the next words, "Me clan and I will sleep tonight with the thrill of old stories in our bones."
Then he scowled, "And if what you got ain't good enough old man... then it'll be the Blapp or my blade for you and your company."
That night, the entire clan sat around the fire to listen to Podo's tale. The girl who led the ambush was Maraly, Claxton's only child.
Claxton sat atop a seat carved out from a tree stump with a deer stag's skull atop.
Podo stood in the center in front of the fire and began his tale. "I tell the story of Growlfist, King Strander, and the night I met him. Aye, I met him alright. Back when I was just a lad with two good legs. He was fierce and a head taller than Claxton here. Eyes so mean, he could cook a fish just by staring at it."
The Stranders listened with approving murmurs.
Janner whispered to his mother, "Have you ever heard this?"
"No." Nia responded, mystified.
"Years ago I was fishing in a bend in the Blapp, bobbing in a boat with a bucket full of redgills. Then I saw a dark procession wind its way down from the North hills. Filthy they were, a cloud of dirt hovered above them, like a storm about to burst. Stranders."
The listening Stranders laughed and hooted favorably.
"Then a voice comes tearing at me from the tallest man I ever saw with a sound like thunder: 'Come near!'"
Janner gasped. Tink grinned. Elisheva only listened carefully.
"My boat rowed to the shore, where King Strander stood. He lifted me off from the boat and I got a good look at his fearsome face. Teeth like clamshells, a jaw like a tree root, a shaggy beard as brown and muddy as a bumpy digtoad's hind feet. I was shaking like a Belcher's belly. Mighty Growlfist asked me whose permission was I fishing for redgills in his waters and I told him straight, 'Nobody's.'"
Maraly laughed amusedly, probably at the daring young Podo had shown the Strander King.
Podo leaned to look Maraly in the eyes while continuing to narrate his tale, "He leaned so close to me that I could see the fleas in his beard. Now you know that the Stranders are a slimy, thieving bunch. So, to prove my worth, I did something so foolish and rash that I don't remember deciding to do it. I picked Growlfist's pocket!"
Maraly laughed, "You did, what?"
"Picked it right there with all his clan watching and he didn't see a thing. I'm mighty swift when I have a mind to be."
"What did you steal?" Maraly inquired.
"The only thing I could lay me fingers on: stole his pone."
The Stranders began talking and whispering among themselves. Some were baffled, others were skeptical.
Elisheva raised an eyebrow. Tink appeared to be as lost as she was. "Pone?"
Oskar then responded at their questioning looks, "In Strander culture, the pone is an item of significance they carry. A trinket very near and dear."
"You steal a Strander's pone, you're the new clan leader." Nia added.
Tink appeared to be thinking. Elisheva understood a little more but kept her guard up either way. From where she was standing, the Stranders were no different than oppressive modern gangsters or covetous thieves long past.
From her spot, Maraly spat and smirked. "No way, you stole Growlfist's pone!"
Podo shrugged. "Didn't know what I'd done at the time, of course. But it was right there, in his front pocket, a golden bird no bigger than a baby's fist."
Tink looked at his own right fist, trying to envision the little trinket his young grandfather had managed to snatch back in the day.
Podo continued, "Growlfist had me by the collar and a dagger to my throat. And I said, 'Growlfist, if you kill me and throw me in the river, you lose your wee golden bird.' I raised the trinket to his face and winked."
"You winked?!" Claxton sputtered in disbelief.
"Aye. And ol' Growlfist's eyes opened as wide as his mouth, and he laughed. Something unnatural about filthy, wicked man that big laughing like that. Then the King of Stranders set me on the ground and punched me so hard in the face that I still have the proof." And Podo lifted his beard to show a scar. "Then he welcomed me to the clan, snatched his pone right back. Since he was the mighty Growlfist, no one challenged him. It wasn't long before I was running with the Pounders."
Claxton's eyes narrowed. "And ye crept the West Redoubt?" he asked. "Really?"
"That's right, by the light of the Hanger Moon."
Once Podo finished his tale, the other stranders were impressed.
"Well, old man, it's a good story." Claxton stood and stretched.
It was clear from Claxton's swagger that Podo's story hadn't satisfied him—or if it did, he was unwilling to admit it.
"But not good enough, Podo Helmer, because I don't believe a word of it. I'm the finest thief in Skree-and not even I could've slipped the pone from Growlfist the Strander King." Claxton threw a bottle into the fire making it rise.
Podo raised his hands to keep the flames from reaching his face, then he lowered them to glare at Claxton.
"Clan!"
The Stranders' good cheer vanished, and several surged forward with knives drawn and teeth bared. One held two daggers to Nia and Leeli's throats. Another pointed a spear at Oskar and Tink.
"The two men, and lovely lady will be sleepin' sound at the bottom of the Blapp tonight!"
Janner and Tink gasped.
"The children we'll keep, of course."
One minute Podo had held the Stranders in thrall with his tale, and a breath later the Igibys, Elisheva, Podo, and Oskar were surrounded and firmly in the grip of the clan again. There were far too many of the smelly men, women, and children to fight, and unless Podo had another trick in his brain – or if Elisheva was able to fully use her new gift, the Jewels of Anniera and the Key would soon be caged and their guardians would be in the cold black depths of the Mighty Blapp.
Elisheva glared daggers at the Stranders, spitefully wishing she could open a portal to another dimension to unleash perhaps either the famed golem of prague or even the Tyrannosaurus Rex of Isla Nublar on these crooks.
But Tink stared at Claxton with an odd look, not of fear or worry, but-was it fascination? admiration? Even as the Stranders jerked Tink to his feet, his eyes stayed on the tall, bearded brigand, and Janner's eyes stayed on Tink.
And abruptly, Podo began laughing.
Claxton glowered. "It's funny, is it?"
"It's just that you've all been so generous." Podo said, "So hospitable."
"Have we now?"
"It's so thought of you to weight me down to speed my trip to the bottom of the river. But I couldn't possibly take o much from you good folks." And he opened his left hand, revealing that he'd somehow pickpocketed small objects from the Stranders – much to the thieves' shock.
"Hey, that's mine!"
"And my bracelet!"
"Me cup!"
Podo dropped everything he'd taken to the ground, and made a show of patting his shirt and breeches, then nodded. "Aye, that's it."
"Well, then. This has been a fine display, Podo Helmer. It's shown what fools inhabit the Strand." He glared at the shamed faces of his clan. He then approached Podo, his blade drawn, "Let your last breath be a drink of the river, and let me clan remember to keep watch when strangers enter the fold. Take the children to the cages and their keepers to their grave."
But the Stranders hesitated. Murderers and thieves they may be, but they didn't like the idea of drowning such a one as Podo Helmer, who struck them as a Strander if ever there was one.
"Maybe we can just toss the woman and the round one in and let the peg leg live," Maraly suggested. The Stranders nodded.
Claxton's jaw clenched. He glared at the girl for a long moment and looked as though he might strike her, but he took a deep breath and said, "That may sound like a good idea, but listen close! He may have a story or two in his pocket, but I say he's too womanly sweet to these children and the miss. Pickin' pockets is easy, but his eyes ain't shadowy enough for our kind. And here on the Strand we live by shadows, clan! We roam the woods and slay Fang and farmer, we steal and rove and let no man tell us where's where and what's what! We've no use for lyin' old men or their companions."
Obviously, Claxton knew how to stir the muck in the Stranders' hearts. They jittered and hissed again.
Finally Elisheva could no longer keep quiet. She scoffed, "Somebody forget to add a little sugar to your morning coffee, Weaver, or this your natural state? It must be exhausting, being so bitter all the time."
Claxton whirled around to face Elisheva, "Did you say something?!"
Elisheva glared right back, about to retort then gets an idea. And she says slyly, "I've got plenty stories of my own. Full horror, if you think you and your clan can handle it."
The Stranders muttered dubiously. How well a scary tale can this girl tell?
Claxton glowered at Elisheva viciously then sneered in challenge. "Try me."
The Stranders were in for another story that night.
To be continued...