understand the words. The two figures on board were strong paddlers. Their raft made good time toward the shore. When it was
close enough for the paddlers to be clearly seen, Betty shrieked,
"What are they? They look horrible! Are they human or what?"
"They're Matmon," Lisa explained. "Haven't you ever seen Matmon before? Oh, that's right, how could you? Sorry."
The two Matmon, who had appeared to sit or kneel on the raft,
were actually standing. They looked like misshapen men, but not
in any cartoonish or comical sense. Both were adults about as tall
as Kurt. They had large, deep chests, big bellies (though you
wouldn't call them fat) and short arms and legs. Both had long
white beards. Their clothing was obviously homemade: simple garments of dark wool and leather, including tall boots with tops that
flopped over. At their feet were two leather bags like primitive
backpacks. The raft itself was constructed of logs with the bark still
on, lashed together with ropes. Though both logs and ropes
looked coarse, the raft itself was tight and skillfully made.
Kurt got excited. "We haven't seen Matmon since ... since ... I
don't think we've seen them since the day of the wedding!" Wes
and Lisa frowned. They thought Kurt meant the wedding of Uncle
John and Aunt Eleanor, which brought up all the painful tensions
since then. Kurt hurried to explain, "I mean the big party for the
wedding of King Kardia and Queen Suneidesis, over there in the city of Nephesh. Do you suppose ... oh, gosh, I hope it's Gunruth
and Inkleth!"
Lisa asked, "Would they still be alive? Of course, Matmon live
three or four hundred years. But that depends on when we're
here."
Wes squinted. "I don't think it's them. We need to be careful.
Remember what Uncle John told us about some of the first Matmon he ever met. They ambushed him and tied him tip in a cave
on the orders of Lord Lunacy."
Betty almost screamed. "They did what? Let's get out of here!
Now!"
"Don't worry. That was a long time ago," Kurt assured her. "The
Matmon are followers of Gaal now." Then he remembered the
sticky problem with time.
The raft was close enough for the children to make out the
words of one of the paddlers. He pointed at the treetops and called
out, "Which way?" His companion turned to him and said something inaudible, something that appeared to startle the first Matmon.
The raft floated into shallow water. Both Matmon used their
paddles to pole. With a couple of strong pushes they ran their craft
aground. Its free end continued to bob on the waves while they
steadied it with their paddles.
"Young strangers, is it?" said one of the Matmon to the other.
"From where do you suppose they come?" His voice was rough. His
beard, though mostly white, was streaked with reddish brown. Suspicious eyes looked out from beneath a thatch of hair, which was
also a mix of white and reddish brown.
The other Matmon looked older because his beard and hair
were silvery white. He answered in an equally rough voice, "Why
not ask them, Ildreth? No doubt they can speak for themselves. Are
they not Regenskind?"
The three Friesens felt a stab of joy at the word Regenskind. The
very term gave them pride. They stood up straighter. "We are
indeed Regenskind," stated Wesley. Regenskind were what the
people of Anthropos called human beings. They were descended
from the Regents, whom the Changer had sent to rule Anthropos.
"From where do you come?" inquired the older Matmon. "From
Glason? From Playsion?"
They hesitated. They knew of Glason and Playsion, but they
could claim to be from neither. Finally Kurt said, "We're from
someplace else you may have heard about. A lot farther away than
either of those places." Wes wanted to tell his brother to keep quiet.
He would stay on his guard until he had reason to trust these Matmon.
Ildreth, the younger of the two, did not believe Kurt. He pointed
out, "You have not the weary and unwashed look of those who
have
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