A Triumph of Souls

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seahorses that crunch when you bite into them, and shellfish that have to be sucked out
     of their homes and down your throat. Oh, there is plenty to eat.” Pushing a leafy hand down through the dense mat of green
     stuff and into the water, he drew forth a juvenile octopus.
    “No thank you,” Ehomba told him politely.
    “What’s he doing?” The first mate tried to see around Ehomba. “What are you two talking about?”
    The herdsman glanced back. “Food.”
    “Oh.” Terious was not displeased. He quite liked octopus himself. “What does he say about getting us out of here?”

    “I am coming to that.” With a reluctant sigh, Ehomba remembered that he was not here to discuss the delights of sargassum
     living, and that on the larger boat behind him waited anxious others silently watching who were depending on him to extricate
     them from what had become an inopportune situation.
    “We think your valley is beautiful,” he told the humanoid, “and we would like to stay and visit, but we have business to attend
     to on the other side of the ocean.”
    “Landsmen spend too much time attending to business and not enough time living. If you spent more time in the sea you would
     be happier.”
    “I could not agree with you more,” Ehomba replied. “However, I am a herder of cattle and sheep, and they do not do as well
     in the ocean as jellyfish and clams.”
    “I fathom.” The sargassum man popped something small and blue into his mouth.
    “There is a problem with our leaving. Our ship cannot sail up the walls of your valley. There is not enough wind to make her
     go fast enough. Not even if we sailed in circles until we got going as fast as we can and then tried. We need help.”
    The humanoid nodded gravely. What strange thoughts must lie behind those impenetrable black eyes? the herdsman wondered. What
     sights must they have seen? To someone like himself who so loved the sea, the temptation to wish oneself a similar life was
     almost irresistible. Not all wishes in life, he reminded himself, could be fulfilled. He knew that despite his yearning, his
     desire to spend time at sea would have to restrict itself to long swims from shore and endless walks on the beach below the
     village. Perhaps, he mused, the sargassum man longs to walk on dry lands.

    “We can do nothing.” The sympathetic humanoid spread leafy arms wide. “We
could
pull your ship out of the valley, but it would take a thousand sargassum men, and there are not that many dwelling within
     many weeks’ journey of this place. Most live farther to the south, where the water is warmer and the seaweed beds more extensive.”
    “Then there is nothing you can do for us?” Though disappointed, Ehomba was not surprised.
    “Nothing. Nothing by ourselves.” The humanoid pressed four kelp-like, nailless fingers to his forehead. “Others might well
     do better.”
    “Dolphins?” The herdsman’s hopes rose. “There are dolphins in the area? I can tell them myself what it is that we need.”
    “No. No dolphins here. They like clear, open water where they can swim fast and breathe easy. None of their greater cousins
     are around, either. It is too bad. A few of them could easily pull your boat to safety. But I think I know someone who might
     be able to help you. This is not a certain thing, landsman. But I like you. You come to learn and not to lecture, without
     hook or net or line, and, unlike most of your kind, you have learned how to look into the water and see something besides
     food. I will do what I can.” He started to sink back beneath the weed-choked surface.
    “Wait!” Ehomba burbled. “When will we know if you can help?”
    With only his head remaining above water, the sargassum man gurgled a reply. “When the king comes to you. If he is willing.”
    Then he was gone.
    Leaning over the prow of the longboat, the herdsmanpeered down into the water. There was a lot of life to see less than a few feet from his nose: tiny

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