In Green's Jungles

"Good man!" Oreb declared firmly.

"Yes, he was a good man in his way. All the soldiers were, perhaps."

The second Neighbor said, "If you do not wish to tell us about the gods you had in your ship, you need not feel obliged to."

"They were many," I said, "and they often quarreled, which is all you need to know. Echidna tried to kill Pas, and was killed by him for that, and Sphigx's city of Trivigaunte tried to dominate Scylla's city of Viron – which was my city, too."

He nodded.

"I was weighing the possibility that Pas had erred, as Jahlee contended; and it occurred to me that he had surely erred in permitting other gods in the 'Whorl. That had been a mistake, and in the end it nearly proved fatal to him."

The first Neighbor said, "Then this Pas may have erred in sending your ship here as well."

"Yes. But whether he erred or not, it is certain we did. We erred by accepting Echidna, Scylla, and all the rest as gods, and erred again by removing the Outsider from our prayer beads." I paused to clear my throat. "We took him out because we thought that he wasn't one of Pas's family, I dare say. We knew the names of Pas's seven children and he wasn't one of them. I doubt that it ever occurred to us that he might be Pas's father, or even that Pas had one."

"Pas is your god," the first Neighbor told me, "not ours."

"Exactly. But who were yours? That is the question."

"One we will not answer, for your sake."

"I don't see how I would be harmed by knowing who your gods were, unless you mean that it would be better for me to work it out for myself."

They rose to go.

"My son Sinew found an altar in the forest, the altar of an unknown god. Later I thought that Seawrack's mother must have been your sea goddess."

They backed away. "Farewell, friend!"

"Do you know about Seawrack and her mother?

I told some of you."

They had vanished into the shadows before I pronounced the last word; but I heard one say, "Once, she was."

"Wet god? Wet god?" Oreb called plaintively after them. Did he mean the Mother? Or Scylla, who haunts my dreams? I have questioned him, but he refuses to answer or contradicts himself. Possibly he meant both.

It has been nearly a week since I wrote last, a week of constant rain and snow. Hide and I found a cave in the cliffside and spent many idle hours there, talking and playing draughts with stones. I did not write, having only this single sheet left.

This morning the snow stopped and the sun returned. We ventured out, determined to buy more grain for our horses, who are thin and hungry. It was clear and bright, but very cold. Every branch was covered with hard, bright ice, as they still are.

About midmorning we overtook a woman swathed in furs, riding sidesaddle upon a skittish white mule. Her face was hidden deep in a hood of white fur, but to me-and to Hide, too, I believe-she appeared regal. She asked to ride with us, saying that the road ahead was infested with bandits. Naturally, we consented.

Toward sunset we came to this i

She laughed at him. "These are not my servants, and everything I have is theirs if they want it."

I knew her by her laugh; and when I introduced her to the i