[The Squatter of Amon Rûdh]

When Earnur had mentioned boats he had never envisaged the weeks of construction that had gone into their ill-fated cruise liner. He had, of course, meant the pencil-thin coxed twelves that he had first encountered on the turgid waters of the Tame River in distant Morbîrsluv*, city of knowledge.

Naturally he had hoped that his many years behind the oar, during which he had developed his fine sword-arm and high alcoholic tolerance, would finally come in useful. The plans, however, made no mention of oars, manned womaned or even Elved; although they did appear to include two bars and a section labelled Dûtî Frë. On the face of it this seemed more than a little superfluous for a fifteen-minute journey, but according to Harlindon and Wolf's design it was essential if vehicles or horses were to be carried. True to his new-found sobriety he stocked the bars with water, various flavours of lemonade and some alcohol-free horse linament that Kuruharan had sold him, before rewarding himself with a nice cup of scented herbal tea.

The crossing had been mostly uneventful. The usual massive orange whirlpools and swirling fractals had sported delicately with periwigged Nereids in the limpid purple waters of the river. The sky had rung with the gentle close-harmony singing of countless badgers, and although at one point the unsinkable boat had appeared to founder like a lump of granite he was certain that this had been an hallucination. Why would giant seagulls rescue him from drowning? How, indeed, could they lift a man in full armour? No, only the wrong sort of herbs in one's tea or an undigested nocturnal feast could cause such bizarre visions. He felt a brief stab of pity for anyone who could be convinced by so feeble a device as he wrung out his hauberk.

Fortunately the oilskin wrappings and Pinkjin's extraordinary aquatic ability had saved the priceless herbs of Dun Sóbrin, and some freak eddies in the current had taken care of the larger bar. He had time to fill his pipe from a random pouch and grab the ersatz Martini he had saved from the titanic wreck before the advent of the Riders of the Mike and the next phase of the trip.

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* The location of this ancient city of learning and culture is unclear. Indeed in many accounts the name appears to refer to two distinct places. The literal modern English translation is 'Bridge of the Oxen'