by M. L. Forman
“You’ve told me that delays are part of the business,” Alex answered.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Whalen whispered to Alex as he pretended to check their goods.
“Trouble?”
“Jabez’s men are in the town, watching. At least one of them is a warlock.”
“Did he—”
“No, he didn’t recognize me. I didn’t give him the chance, but it will be difficult to remain out of sight if we stay here much longer. At least the caravan only has one more day here. We’ll leave after the caravan closes tomorrow night.”
As much as Alex didn’t like lying about needing to wait for the shipment from Westland, he was glad Whalen had already established the story. They would be able to leave the caravan quickly and quietly now, without any questions.
After the caravan closed the next night, Whalen spoke with Lycan and arranged to trade the few remaining goods they had in exchange for a pair of sturdy horses. Lycan was happy to make the trade, but sad to see Whalen and Alex go.
The next morning, Alex and Whalen prepared to head to Denmar to “wait for their shipment to arrive.”
Alex was about to mount his horse when Lupo came running up to them.
“I thought I’d missed you,” Lupo said, catching his breath.
“You nearly have,” Alex answered with a smile.
“I just wanted to wish you luck,” Lupo said. “I will remember you, my friend, and hope to travel with you again.”
“And I will remember you,” Alex said. “May all your hopes come true when you visit the oracle, my friend.”
Lupo smiled, bowed, and then returned to the caravan.
Alex watched him go, and then climbed on his horse and followed Whalen toward the city. They didn’t actually enter the city, however. They rode around it, as if heading for the southern gates. Once out of sight of the caravan, they turned due south.
They rode for about two miles before Whalen reined his horse to a stop and climbed off.
Alex stopped as well. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“With Jabez’s warlocks looking for us, we clearly can’t go to Denmar. Besides, I doubt any new ships have arrived in the city in the past few days. We’ll have to find a ship elsewhere.”
“But we don’t dare go to another city looking for a ship,” Alex said. “If Jabez has men watching in Denmar, he’ll have men watching all the ports.”
“Yes, I’m sure he will. In fact, he’ll probably have more men in the cities further south, as we can’t sail west until we first move a good deal south. Still, I think we might find a small boat in one of the fishing villages along the coast.”
“Small boats aren’t made for voyages on the open sea.”
“We’ll be fine. It’s not uncommon for fishermen to make the journey between Midland and Westland when the weather is fair.”
Alex looked up at the sky. “From the look of the clouds, I wouldn’t count on fair weather.”
“We’ll be fine,” Whalen repeated.
Alex climbed off his horse. “And what about the horses? We can’t just leave them here.”
Whalen smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ve been around long enough to learn a few tricks that don’t even need magic to work. The horses will find their way back to Denmar once we have gone.”
Alex realized Whalen had thought of everything, or so it seemed. Whalen spoke to the horses in a strange language that Alex didn’t understand, and then Whalen and Alex turned to the south. They made good time, and were soon walking south along the beach.
“We’ll stick to the shore,” said Whalen. “Less chance of meeting anyone than if we were on the road. Sooner or later we’ll come to a village where we might find a boat.”
Alex nodded his agreement. While they walked, Alex would look back to the north often, just to make sure they weren’t being followed. He couldn’t help noticing the dark clouds that hung in the sky, and he worried about the storm he knew was coming.
On the morning of their third day on the coast, the storm arrived. At first it was only a light rain and a little wind, but by midday it had become something much worse. The rain fell hard and fast and the wind stirred the sea into a frenzy. It was hard to see very far ahead because of the rain, but that wasn’t their biggest problem. The beach they were on had grown narrow, and the landward side was blocked by high cliffs. Waves came crashing onto the narrow strip of land, bowling Alex and Whalen over as they tried to walk, and then trying to drag them back into the sea before the next wave arrived.
“We need to get off this beach,” Alex yelled over the wind. “If we stay here we’ll be battered to death against the cliff wall, or dragged out to sea with the waves. Maybe both.”
“We’ll be lucky not to drown first,” Whalen shouted back. “I can see a rocky point, maybe half a mile ahead. If we can get there, we’ll see what our options are.”
They pressed on, helping each other to stand when the waves hit, and pulling each other back to the land when the waves tried to drag them into the sea. It was hard work, and it felt like hours had passed before they even got close to the rocky point Whalen had seen. It was too high to climb and the rock was too broken to get a good hold. A large mound of broken rocks had fallen from the cliff, forming a barrier that ran into the sea.
Alex and Whalen looked at each other; neither of them willing to say what they both knew had to be done. After resting for a few minutes they went forward carefully, trying to stay as close to the rocks and as far from the sea as possible. It was an impossible task with the wind-tossed waves crashing into them. They would have to wade and hope that the water wasn’t too deep and the waves not too large.
Their going was slow. The rocks were slippery and uneven, but the waves were not as bad as Alex had feared. When they reached a place where they could see the beach beyond the rocky point, the sight gave Alex hope. The cliffs were not so high here, and there was a wide stretch of open beach above the waves. The thought that they would soon be out of the waves—even if heavy rain continued to fall—was a relief. Alex managed a tired smile as he pressed forward, and then he heard a roar from behind him. He looked back over his shoulder.
What Alex saw confused him at first. It looked as if the sea had tilted sideways, or that the ground under his feet was strangely sloped. Understanding came quickly, and Alex turned to look at Whalen. The old wizard was too far ahead of him; Alex wouldn’t be able to grab him and help him through the massive wave that was coming. Alex sucked in his breath, hoping that he could yell loud enough for Whalen to hear him over the wind. He tried to shout, but the wave crashed down on him before he could make a sound.
Alex felt himself lifted off the submerged rocks, and tumbled until he didn’t know which way was up. The icy water clawed at him, pulling him deeper into the sea. He tried to swim, to fight his way to the surface, but it was no good.
“Don’t panic. Relax,” Alex’s O’Gash whispered. “Save the air you have. Fighting the sea will only make it worse.”
It wasn’t easy, but Alex did as his O’Gash said. He let his body go limp, he didn’t fight, he let himself float freely in the sea. His lungs were burning for want of air, his brain was screaming at him to breathe, and finally his head broke the surface of the water. He gulped in as much air as he could, not knowing when the next wave would crash down on him. He looked wildly around, searching for Whalen, looking to see where he was, trying to find the beach that he knew couldn’t be far. There was nothing to see but foam and water.
Gulping in another breath, and getting almost as much water as air, Alex tried to get his bearings. The water was cold, draining his body heat away second by second. Swimming in this stormy sea would be hard, but swimming the wrong direction would be fatal. Alex thought for a moment about changing his shape, becoming a seal or a fish to stop the cold water from killing him and to help him find his way.
Before he could work any magic, Alex felt himself being lifted again. He sucked in as much air as he coul
d, and tried not to fight the wave that was carrying him. His body was pulled under the water and tumbled around and around. He didn’t fight it; he let the sea have its way. The sudden impact with the rocky shore drove most of the air out of Alex. He tried to get more air and cling to the rocks that were under him, but the retreating wave filled his nose and mouth with water and sand.
When the pull of the wave grew weaker, Alex lifted his head. He was still in the water, but his knees and hands were on rocky ground. Coughing and spitting, he crawled up the beach until he felt that he could go no further. Slowly he rolled over and sat up, again looking for Whalen. He saw nothing at first, but after he wiped the water out of his eyes, he could see what might be a man, fifty or so yards further down the beach.
Stumbling and half crawling, Alex made his way down the beach. As he got closer he could make out Whalen’s beard and gray hair—his magical disguise had been washed away. Whalen sat up and started coughing violently before Alex got to him, and when he tried to stand he only flopped back into the water.
“Whalen,” Alex called weakly. “Are you alright?”
“I’m getting too old for this kind of thing,” Whalen answered, and continued to cough.
“Let’s get off the beach for now,” Alex said, relieved that Whalen appeared to be alright.
Whalen didn’t answer but simply nodded his agreement. Helping each other to stand, they staggered away from the water’s edge but only managed to go about a hundred yards before they both fell down and had to rest. Alex rolled onto his hands and knees and vomited up what felt like a gallon of sea water. He was dizzy and cold and he wanted to conjure up a magical fire to warm them.
“If Jabez or his helpers find us in this, then I feel sorry for them,” Alex said grimly.
“It’s not as bad as that—look there,” Whalen said, pointing.
Alex looked but saw nothing. He blinked, shook his head, and then he spotted what looked like a rising trail of smoke further up the shore.
“I think we’ve found a fishing village, and not a moment too soon,” Whalen said.
Alex woke with a start, half rising from the straw pallet where he’d been sleeping. He lowered himself slowly back onto the straw. He’d had a fever for two days, and his stomach had been as unsettled as the storm that raged around the small hut he was in. The storm had passed, and so had Alex’s fever. He was still weak from lack of food, but he felt much better than he had.
Turning his head to one side, Alex surveyed the hut. Glowing coals in the fire pit gave a little light, but a brighter light was already growing outside. There was a bucket near his head (which he’d used more than once), a few rough chairs near the fire pit, a small table next to the back wall of the hut, jugs of water, cups, plates, utensils—nothing special. A second straw pallet was on the opposite side of the room, and as he focused his eyes on it Alex saw that it was empty.
“Whalen,” Alex said in a weak, hoarse voice.
There was no answer and no movement in the hut. Alex wasn’t worried; Whalen would be close. He’d hardly left Alex’s side since the two of them had arrived here, and he’d been very concerned about Alex’s condition after he’d swallowed so much sea water. Now it seemed the danger had passed, and Whalen was out and about, preparing for the two of them to continue their journey.
Slowly Alex got up. He was hungry after his long fast, but more than anything he was thirsty. He knew that drinking salt water was never a good idea, but he hadn’t had much choice when the waves had dragged him into the sea. He tried to stretch the soreness out of his body as he moved to the water jugs for a drink.
“Ah, good, you’re up,” Whalen’s voice said from the doorway. “I was just coming to check on you. I’ll need your help today, as I’ve found us a boat.”
“If you’ve already found a boat, why do you need my help?”
“Well it’s an older boat, and it hasn’t been used for some time. We’ll need to make some repairs to her before she’ll be seaworthy. Some of the locals are willing to give us a hand, so it shouldn’t be too much trouble.”
“Her?”
“Boats and ships are always called her or she ,” Whalen said. “Well, almost always.”
Alex didn’t reply. He took another long drink of water, and then looked around the hut for something to eat. Whalen seemed to read his mind and started to laugh.
“Good, your appetite has returned. The villagers have already had their morning meal, but I’m sure they’ll get you something when they see you’re up. They’ve all been worried about you since we arrived.”
“Really, why?”
“Mostly because they’re good people,” Whalen answered, waving toward the door. “Also because they believe it would be a bad omen if a stranger in need died in their village.”
“Well, I’ll try not to die,” Alex said with a slight smile. “That would be very rude of me.”
Whalen led Alex to the far side of the village, where the boat he had found for them was waiting. A half dozen men were already there, checking the sides for gaps and warped boards. Whalen made some quick introductions, but before Alex was allowed to do any work or even to look at the boat more closely, he was being served his morning meal. It was not anything like a normal breakfast, as it consisted of fish stew and bread. Alex was happy just to have something in his stomach, but he paused in his hurried eating to thank the villagers and mention how good the food was.
The day’s work was not that hard, but it was tedious, hour after hour of pressing tar-soaked rags into every crack and crevice of the boat, letting them dry, and then brushing a layer of tar on top of the rags. The tar had a strong smell that Alex did not like. Some of the villagers, seeing Alex’s wrinkled nose, laughed and told him he would get used to the smell soon enough.
Late in the afternoon, as the final coat of tar was drying, Alex took a walk around the village. He wanted to see how these people lived, but he also wanted to try something he’d been thinking about. He didn’t say anything to Whalen because he was sure Whalen would object to it. He would let Whalen know later, once they were on the move again.
With the sun setting behind them and the boat declared seaworthy, the entire village turned out to help Alex and Whalen push her into the sea. When the small craft slid gracefully into the water, the villagers cheered happily. Whalen tied the boat to one of many large rocks along the shore and left her for the night. The villagers had planned a feast to celebrate the boat’s return to the sea, and to honor their new friends and wish them luck in their travels.
The feast was not the grandest Alex had ever been to, but the food was good and there was plenty for everyone. Everyone was happy, and the party went well into the night. When Alex and Whalen finally returned to the small hut they’d been using, Alex realized how tired he was after the long day.
“It would have been faster and easier to repair the boat with magic,” Alex commented as he dropped onto his pallet.
“Perhaps,” Whalen said, turning to look into the darkness outside the door. “Faster and easier for Jabez to find us as well.”
“If he’s still looking,” Alex said, closing his eyes.
“You know he’s still looking,” Whalen answered without moving. “He’s watching and waiting, and we have no choice but to go forward with our plan.”
“Don’t worry so much, Whalen. It will make you old before your time,” Alex said and yawned.
If Whalen answered Alex didn’t hear him, as he was already fast asleep. As he slept a feeling of peace filled him, and he dreamed of happy places and friends. Some of the faces in his dreams he did not recognize, but he knew they were his friends just the same. For some unnamed reason that he could not even think of when he woke up, Alex was sure that their mission here in Jarro would be a success.
Alex and Whalen were up early the next morning. With many thanks and calls of good luck and fortune, the two of them sailed out with the other fishing boats from the village. Alex had sailed before, but never in so
small a boat. Whalen, however, knew what he was doing, and quickly taught Alex what he needed to know. The morning breeze carried them away from the village, and soon they’d left the other boats behind and were headed due south along the coast.
Whalen seemed happy to remain silent and sail south, and Alex didn’t bother him with questions. He was busy thinking his own thoughts and trying to form a plan for the future. They were getting closer to their goal now, but if Whalen had a plan he had not shared it with Alex. At midday Whalen took out some of the provisions he had bought in the fishing village, and divided them between Alex and himself.
“We may want to change course,” Alex commented as he accepted the food.
“Change course?” Whalen asked. “To where?”
“I think we should sail farther west than we are now. If we remain in sight of land we could be spotted.”
“One small boat moving south will hardly trouble anyone.”
“Perhaps not, but I’d like to avoid being seen if we can.”
“You’re worried because I’m not wearing my disguise. After the storm washed it away I couldn’t really conjure it up until we were alone.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t put it back on at all.”
“What, and travel as myself? I may not have spent much time in Jarro, Alex, but I’m still too well known here. I’d be spotted by Jabez’s men at any port we come to, and that would mean trouble.”
“And that is why I think we should sail farther to the west. If we stay away from Midland, we won’t be seen, and you won’t need your disguise.”
“Do you think Jabez might use this little bit of magic to track us down?”
“No, not exactly. It has been your rule, however, that we not use magic at all here in Jarro.”
“Well, yes, but I had to have a disguise, and—”
“I understand. I’m not saying it was wrong to use a little magic, maybe even more than we have been. I don’t know all there is to know about magic, and I don’t know how Jabez could find us if we used magic, unless it was something extraordinary or one of his people caught us in the act.”