Tundra

He had come a long way, first on foot, then by sand skitterer and now by boat. Finally, the long-sought tundra was looming on the horizon, grey as slate beneath a washed out sky. Banners of cloud stretched like sea foam across a featureless canvas, torn into strips by the wind and bundled up again as mounds on the far-off, flat horizon.

They dismounted at the docks, the grey air sweeping up the stony steps to the pier. When the passengers and senior crew had disembarked, Erasmus, become Eisheen in cabin boys’ rags, leaned out of the portal and slipped silently into the freezing water. His stroke in his newly young body was powerful. He could have stolen the now smashed relic with ease. Effortlessly, he made it shivering to the shore, and clambered out to catch his death of cold. Only, he was immune to simple diseases now, just as he was stronger and handsomer than he had ever been before. The ritual had guaranteed it.

As Erasmus climbed up onto the dock, amongst smelly baskets full of fish, he heard the first voice jeering. ‘What’s this?’ it laughed heartily. ‘Some kind of fish with legs?’ A sailor stood there, Erasmus realised, full-bearded and missing teeth, a tundra kind of man, despite the harbour’s southern look.

‘Can’t be a fish,’ spat another. ‘No scales.’

‘Oh, but it has to be a fish. No-one would be stupid enough to swim in this water!’

‘Maybe it’s a seal,’ said a third, younger man, smartly.

Erasmus was not intimidated. He was nearly an immortal. Drawing himself up to his full height, he wore his cold with pride, hardly blue and pink at all, and without a shiver in his body. ‘Gentlemen,’ he addressed the throng.

‘It speaks!’ The first sailor laughed harder than ever.

‘Do you think it takes on other forms as well?’ asked the third, egged on.

Erasmus ignored them both. ‘Gentlemen,’ he pressed again. ‘I need to get inland. Can you help me?’

‘I’m pretty sure it’s bad luck to talk to magic, talking seals.’ The third man had his hands wrapped around his sides to contain his glee. Suddenly, the first man slapped him.

‘Shut up!’ he commanded, sensing gold about this disturbing stranger, who did not even shake, let alone freeze to death. ‘Why do you want to go inland?’ he asked Erasmus. ‘There’s nothing there but snow and mammoths. If you’re a smart man, you’d do much better to stay here. Get back on whatever ship you came in on.’

‘Oh, no,’ said Erasmus, with a glittering, knife-like grin. ‘I have business inland.’

‘What kind of business does a cabin boy have?’ asked the first man, squinting. He was starting to wonder whether this was indeed a cabin boy at all. ‘In fact, shouldn’t we be returning you to your ship? No doubt your captain wants to know where you are…’

Erasmus was not swayed by the prospect of spending cash, nor by the prospect of spilling blood, if it was to come to that. ‘I have this kind of business,’ he snapped, thrusting a handful of dripping coins underneath their noses.

‘Alright, alright,’ the first man hastily agreed. ‘But really, there’s nothing there. The mammoth people, if you can stand the smell, have a camp outside the town. We can take you there....’

‘Well, thankyou kindly,’ said Erasmus, the same dangerous smile on his scimitar lips. ‘That will do just fine.’