"You're serious? Eleven thousand kids! Mind you, I've never known you to tell a lie, or tell a joke for that matter."
"I still struggle to understand jokes. But I do not lie. Let me explain how the hive works . . ." He went on to explain to the horrified Beywulf how he had fathered so many children. "So you see . . . when we attack FirstHive, we will attack the living place of some of my children. I am not unhappy about this. They must be freed from the hive. But I want to keep them alive. I will make you a deal. I will destroy the Morkth communications and power net. Their heavy weapons are tied into the power net too. Only the anti-aircraft units have independent guidance and power. The hive will be nearly helpless. It will be butchery, not war. In exchange I ask only that your people care for the young Morkth children . . . help them to become wild-human. Teach them how wonderful real food is. The brood women too. If you free the warrior sows they will help you, if you speak my name. The worker sows will probably just die. Will you agree? I have recently begun to understand the concept of honor. You are a man of honor."
"You flatter me, S'kith. But yes, anyway. My people love kids. But don't let Leyla hear you calling women sows. She'll skin you before she listens to the rest of the story."
Before any further confidences could be exchanged, they were interrupted. "Let's get this show on the road. I'm keen on my own decent bloody bed in Dublin Moss," Cap called, struggling to his feet. By that evening they'd bought horses and had left the swampy delta margins behind, and they had a comfortable night in a halfway decent inn. The next afternoon would see them in Dublin Moss.
Coming over the hilltop they could suddenly see the Moss Peninsula. It was both breathtaking and bizarre. Blue-and-red-layered sinuous and twisted cliffs snaked and eddied about the green, jagged diamond shape, the rock forming endless oil-on-water patterns. Where the sun shone directly on the cliffs they reflected in mirror dazzle, silvery bright and confusing. The deep-blue sea all around was snaggled with sea-stack teeth and the mostly clifflined shore was tumbled white with heavy surf. On the far side they could make out the slate roofs and white walls. The breeze brought the sound of the waves and the gulls up to them.
Shael said it for them all. "Is it for real?"
Bey chuckled. Both the talk with S'kith and the sight of his home had lifted his spirits tremendously. "Aye, she's a pretty sight, isn't she? And also next to impossible to invade. Probably the most defendable spot on the whole planet. The cliffs are a fairly soft micaceous schist. Mostly they overhang, and they're rotten. No fun to try to scale, believe me. There are a good few thousand miles of natural maze walls. You can get hopelessly lost even if you've lived there all your life. We've had a few attempted attacks, which have usually ended with the would-be attackers paying us to get them out. Bugger of a place to live though. You can shout to the neighbor's farm, but it can take you all day to walk there."
Cap said tiredly, "Stop bragging, Bey. Let's get on. It'll take long enough anyway."
The way onto the peninsula was a knife-blade ridge. The sea crashed and rumbled three hundred feet below, but the breeze still lifted salt spray and occasional spume up from the rolling rock chasm on either side. It was plain that the ridge had been narrowed. They could see the tool marks on the salt-greasy rock. They left the horses a hundred yards short of the ridge, at the hostelry which had sprung up for just that reason. Bey had to be forcibly restrained from buying everyone a welcome-home beer there. They set out along the ridge.
The wind pulled at them. And one never knew which side it would blow from next. The path was barely man-wide. Keilin was very glad he hadn't had that beer. But there was worse to come. The path ended abruptly as the ridge dropped fifty feet in a jagged cliff. A swaying cable bridge spanned the next hundred yards. And there were no guide rails. "How do we get across?" demanded Shael. "I can't walk that thing."
Bey chuckled. "Crawl. Like everyone else. Why should you non-apes have it any easier?" Cap set off.
Shael turned her big eyes on Beywulf. "Can't I go by sea?" she pleaded.
Bey shook his head. "This is easier than the sea path. That makes even the dolphins feel queasy. Come on, big beam. It's not so bad once you're going." He gestured across the gap. "This is Cap's fortress. He's spent three hundred years improving what nature'd made pretty good already."
The town was twenty miles off, as the crow flies, or about forty-five by the shortest land route. And that involved swing bridges, ladders and hoist baskets. Much of the land was farmed, lovingly cultivated. The countryfolk greeted Beywulf with cheers, friendly obscene comments and, from the women, invitations. Cap, however, they treated with awe, and almost infinite respect. He expanded like a sunflower at noonday in the glow of their admiration, examining children, giving pats on the head, and accepting small gifts. It was plain that mobilization here would be eagerly responded to. It was also plain that some who might like to respond to the call could never. Mostly the folk looked much like Bey, although the buxom girls were generally less hairy, but there were also many with malformed limbs . . . or eyes empty of intelligence. In the places Keilin knew, such folk would probably have been abandoned or would have died. Here they showed all the signs of love and care.