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； darkening the west。
〃There；〃 the man said； pointing to a great raft near Lookfar。
〃Alive？〃
They all looked at him； and at last one understood。 〃Alive。 He is alive。〃 At this Arren began to weep； a dry sobbing； and one of the men took his wrist in a strong and narrow hand and drew him out of Lookfar and onto a raft to which the boat had been made fast。 The raft was so great and buoyant that it did not dip even slightly to their weight。 The man led Arren across it； while one of the others reached out with a heavy gaff tipped with a curving whaleshark's tooth and hauled a nearby raft closer； till they could step the gap。 There he led Arren to the shelter or cabin； which was open on one side and closed with woven screens on the other three。 〃Lie down；〃 he said； and beyond that Arren knew nothing at all。
He was lying on his back； stretched out flat； gazing up at a rough green roof dappled with tiny dots of light。 He thought he was in the apple orchards of Semermine； where the princes of Enlad pass their summers； in the hills behind Berila； be thought he was lying in the thick grass at Semermine； looking up at the sunlight between apple boughs。
After a while he heard the slap and jostle of water in the hollow places underneath the raft； and the thin voices of the raft…people speaking a tongue that was the mon Hardic of the Archipelago； but much changed in sounds and rhythms； so that it was hard to understand； and so he knew where he was… out beyond the Archipelago； beyond the Reach； beyond all isles； lost on the open sea。 But still he was untroubled； lying as fortably as if he lay in the grass in the orchards of his home。
He thought after a while that he ought to get up； and did so； finding his body very thin and burnt…looking and his legs shaky but serviceable。 He pushed aside the woven hanging that made the walls of the shelter and stepped out into the afternoon。 It had rained while he slept。 The wood of the raft； great； smooth…shapen； squared logs； fit close and caulked； was dark with wet； and the hair of the thin； halfnaked people was black and lank from the rain。 But half the sky was clear where the sun stood in the west； and the clouds now rode to the far northeast in heaps of silver。
One of the men came up to Arren； warily； stopping some feet from him。 He was slight and short； no taller than a boy of twelve； his eyes were long； large； and dark。 He carried a spear with a barbed ivory head。 Arren said to him； 〃I owe my life to you and your people。〃
The man nodded。
〃Will you take me to my panion？〃
Turning away； the raft…man raised his voice in a high； piercing cry like the call of a sea bird。 Then he squatted down on his heels as if to wait； and Arren did the same。
The rafts had masts； though the mast of the one they were on was not stepped。 On these； sails could be run up； small pared to the breadth of the raft。 The sails were of a brown material； not canvas or linen； but a fibrous stuff that looked not woven but beaten together； as felt is made。 A raft some quarter mile away let the brown sail down from the crosstree by ropes and slowly worked its way； gaffing and poling off the other rafts between； till it came alongside the one Arren was on。 When there was only three feet of water between； the man beside Arren got up and nonchalantly hopped across。 Arren did the same and landed awkwardly on all fours； there was no spring left in his knees。 He picked himself up and found the little man looking at him； not with amusement； but with approval： Arren's posure had evidently won his respect。
This raft was larger and higher out of the water than any other； made of logs forty feet in length and four or five feet wide； blackened and smooth with use and weather。 Strangely carven statues of wood stood about the several shelters or enclosures on it； and tall poles bearing tufts of sea birds' feathers stood at the four corners。 His guide took him to the smallest of the shelters； and there he saw Sparrowhawk lying asleep。
Arren sat down inside the shelter。 His guide went back to the other raft； and nobody bothered him。 After an hour or so a woman brought him food： a kind of cold fish stew with bits of some transparent green stuff in it； salty but good； and a small cup of water； stale； tasting pitchy from the caulking of the barrel。 He saw by the way she gave him the water that it was a treasure that she gave him； a thing to be honored。 He drank it respectfully and asked for no more； though he could have drunk ten times the cupful。
Sparrowhawk's shoulder had been skillfully bandaged； he slept deeply and easily。 When he woke up； his eyes were clear。 He looked at Arren and smiled the sweet； joyous smile that was always startling on his hard face。 Arren felt suddenly like weeping again。 He put his hand on Sparrowhawk's hand and said nothing。
One of the raft…folk approached and squatted down in the shade of the large shelter nearby： a kind of temple； it appeared to be； with a square design of great plexity above the doorway； and the doorjambs made of logs carved in the shape of grey whales sounding。 This man was short and thin like the others； boy…like in frame； but his face was strong…featured and weathered by the years。 He wore nothing but a loincloth； but dignity clothed him amply。 〃He must sleep；〃 he said； and Arren left Sparrowhawk and came to him。
〃You are the chief of this folk；〃 Arren said； knowing a prince when he saw one。
〃I am；〃 the man said； with a short nod。 Arren stood before him； erect and unmoving。 Presently the man's dark eyes met his briefly： 〃You are a chief also；〃 he observed。
〃I am；〃 Arren answered。 He would have liked very much to know how the raftman knew it； but remained impassive。 〃But I serve my lord； there。〃
The chief of the raft…folk said something Arren did not understand at all： certain words changed out of recognition or names he did not know； then he said； 〃Why came you into Balatran？〃
〃Seeking…〃
But Arren did not know how much to say； nor indeed what to say。 All that had happened； and the matter of their quest； seemed very long ago and was confused in his mind。 At last he said； 〃We came to Obehol。 They attacked us when we came to land。 My lord was hurt。〃
〃And you？〃
〃I was not hurt；〃 Arren said； and the cold self…possession he had learnt in his courtly childhood served him well。 〃But there was… there was something like a madness。 One who was with us drowned himself。 There was a fear…〃 He stopped； and stood silent。
The chief watched him with black； opaque eyes。 At last he said； 〃You e by chance here； then。〃
〃Yes。 Are we still in the South Reach？〃
〃Reach？ No。 The islands…〃 The chief moved his slender； black hand in an arc； no more than a quarter of the pass； north to east。 〃The islands are there；〃 he said。 〃All the islands。〃 Then showing all the evening sea before them； from north through west to south； he said； 〃The sea。〃
〃What land are you from； lord？〃
〃No land。 We are the Children of the Open Sea。〃
Arren looked at his keen face。 He looked about him at the great raft with its temple and its tall idols； each carved from a single tree； great god…figures mixed of dolphin； fish； man； and sea bird； at th