Hero Grown

by Andy Livingstone

  Brann had been worried about the danger of injury from striking uneven protrusions, but his fears were allayed. His feet could feel that the water, in following this course for however many ages, had worn a path almost as smooth as the tunnel they had travelled from ul-Detina. He could feel it winding, sometimes slightly and others in a sharper arc, and narrowing and widening, bringing changes to the speed of the current, but to his surprise they encountered little danger other than that posed by trying to keep above the surface of a river in complete blackness.

  The dark had been as oppressive as he would have expected for the first part of their journey, but he found himself adapting, as his other senses filled his attention, trying to read his environment until he realised that he had stopped feeling the lack of light like a clamp around his brain. Grakk, too, seemed to have become more accustomed to it, though in his case he was possibly concentrating more on the sensation of being in the water than on the inability to see. He had certainly relaxed slightly, although the fingers that gripped Brann’s left arm still did so with a strength far beyond what was necessary. Brann didn’t mind: it reminded him that his friend was still there.

  The water was cool, but not cold, not sapping the energy from their muscles as a Northern river would have done. After one swift bend, however, he started to feel a difference. There was a definite drop in the temperature and, as he looked ahead, he felt there was a very slight light creeping into the dark.

  He spat out a mouthful of water that had a definite briny tang to it, and Grakk sniffed the air as he caught the same flavour in it. There was no need to tell the other two: their faces were turned expectantly in the same direction. The sense of relief felt by each of them was so strong that it was as if Brann could reach out and touch it as it emanated from the others. They could hear the surf now and, spreading into a line so they could all face it, they began to kick forwards in their eagerness. They were nearing it, and were able to tell that the light came from a large opening, what must be a cave mouth, that was letting in the breaking dawn. After such complete darkness, even the merest light was the most glorious of visions.

  Then they saw it. At first it was a smudge against the soft morning light, but before long it resolved itself into a huge grate, metal bars blocking the exit and sweeping despair into their souls.

  They had no option but to let the current take them right to the barrier. Fortunately, the channel was at one of its wider and deeper stages so their speed was slow enough to save them from serious injury, although Brann did take a painful rap to the shin.

  They looked up. The cave entrance was narrow for its height and tapered to a slender point, the bars stretching to the very top and filling it to its sides with heart-breaking precision. They gripped the metal and stared at the outside world, close enough to reach their arms into it, but only their arms. Gerens shook at the bars, but there was no give; they were solid enough to imprison them. He roared in fury.

  ‘Maybe there is another exit,’ Sophaya suggested. ‘There could have been a branch of the river that we passed in the dark.’

  Grakk stared out at the sea, the rising sun glistening on its gently undulating surface and the swell competing against the flow of the river to push and pull them back and forth against the bars. ‘That same darkness would be the reason we would not find it, were we to somehow battle the current to get there. I fear this is the only exit we will find.’

  Brann looked at the bars again, willing a weakness to appear: a gap near the cave wall, a broken or loose bar, anything. His eyes roved up one side and down the other and, as they did so, his attention was caught by the rock wall to the side. He gasped as a thought hit him.

  Sophaya’s eyes narrowed. ‘I’m beginning to know that look.’

  He grabbed the knife strapped to his left forearm, and lifted the rope. ‘Grakk, do you mind…?’

  The tribesman nodded at his hands that threatened to become one with the bars, so hard were they gripping them. ‘The water is taking me nowhere right now.’

  The blade cut the rope quickly and Sophaya raised an eyebrow. ‘I thought the recommendation was to bag the blades?’

  ‘I did,’ said Brann. ‘Mostly.’ He shrugged. ‘I always like to keep something extra, just in case.’

  Sophaya grinned and reached to the back of her neck to draw a slim blade of her own.

  Gerens looked from one to the other. ‘I may have to rethink the level of protection you two need.’ He swung round to face Brann. ‘So what are you thinking, Chief? Going to climb to see if any are breakable? If so, you’d be better cutting me loose. You know I am the better climber.’

  Brann shook his head. ‘Not up.’ He pointed at what had caught his attention higher on the wall, a clear line left by the sea. ‘It’s just a guess, but it bears a look.’

  He took a breath and ducked under the surface, using the hated bars to pull himself downwards as quickly as he could manage. The water was clear and the low sun was shining almost directly into the cave mouth, allowing him to see well enough for his squinting eyes to follow the bars ahead of his movement.

  His chest constricted in excitement as the view changed. He moved faster as much from eagerness as from the burning desire to breathe. Then he was there, and his hands found what he had so desperately hoped to find: an end to the bars. He kicked back upwards and erupted from the surface, bouncing off a surprised Gerens as he spluttered and sucked air into grateful lungs.

  Hanging onto the bars with one hand, he wiped water from his face with the other, and grinned. ‘The bars do not go all the way to the bottom. We can pass underneath.’

  They howled with joy and relief. ‘How did you know?’ Sophaya asked.

  ‘I didn’t, it was a guess.’ He pointed up at the tide mark on the wall. ‘That would be the high tide. The encrusted parts of the bars extend only to that height also, reinforcing that theory. It made me think that if the tide went as high as that, it probably wouldn’t drop much further than we are just now, or it would be more of a rise and fall than any I ever saw in my time on the ship. I guessed if there was always a significant depth of water here, they might only feel the need to block only what was necessary.’

  ‘And you were right,’ the girl smiled. ‘Now let’s get out of here.’

  She produced her knife once more and cut the rope between her and Gerens, while Brann severed the length attaching Grakk to Gerens. As he did so, he could feel the tribesman’s body tense almost as much as when they had entered the water.

  ‘I’m sorry, Grakk, this must be a taste of the hells for you.’

  The man’s voice was quiet. ‘The greatest fear of someone who cannot swim is the thought of not being able to make your way to the surface. To take yourself downwards, therefore…’

  Brann put a hand on his shoulder. ‘I know you can do it. I have seen the strength you have in you.’

  A smile came back with the words. ‘I must do it. I will do it. I just will not enjoy it overly much.’

  Brann couldn’t help smiling back. ‘We will all go together, but I will stay right behind you. I will be able to see you all of the way.’ He spoke to all of them. ‘It is far enough down to make you feel that you need to breathe, so the best way is to go fast and get moving upwards as soon as you can.’

  ‘Remember,’ Gerens said, ‘we most likely have no one chasing us. We have time. If you struggle to get far enough down, just come back up on this side and regain your energy.’

  They all nodded at the good sense of it, but Brann could see in all of them that they just wanted out of this place without delay. Gerens and Sophaya looked at each other and ducked down, quickly disappearing. Brann was about to give some further encouragement to Grakk but, before he could start, the man sucked in a giant breath and threw his head below the water, pulling himself down. The boy followed closely, staying to one side to avoid the thrashing legs. Grakk looked back to check Brann was there, a brief look but enough of one to show his eyes wide with terror. The fear worked i
n his favour as well, though, driving his arms at a frantic rate. Brann had to move quickly to keep up. He saw the shapes of the first two float up on the other side and knew he must be close to the gap and, sure enough, Grakk was pulling himself under the bars, his movements speaking eloquently of his desire to be anywhere but there.

  Relief flooded Brann as he saw his friend start to rise to safety but, as he did so, he was dragged back. His hood had snagged on the end of a bar and, as his momentum swung him under the barrier the fabric pulled tight. The surge of the water was not rough, but it was enough to twist him and the grip of the hood became even more secure. He grabbed behind him as his legs swung high and fear swept down through him. His fingers scrabbled frantically, but the water pulled him away from the bars and the hood became taut, caught out of his reach.

  The urge to breathe became almost irresistible, and he had to clamp his teeth together to avoid the insane reaction of opening his mouth. He looked despairingly at the brightness of the surface as Grakk, almost there, glanced back. Immediately the man grabbed at the bars to halt his ascent.

  A dark look fell over his face and he started pulling himself back down. Brann was shuddering with the effort of not breathing and flailing behind him at the hood. Grakk’s hand brushed his arms aside and, with a flick, dislodged the hood. Grabbing each other, they kicked for the air.

  Gerens and Sophaya had looked down in time to see Grakk free him and dived to help pull them the last few yards.

  Air had never felt so good. Brann coughed and retched, but it was a delight to do so. Grakk was doing the same while the pair hung onto their companions.

  ‘I think,’ said Gerens, as he started to steer Brann towards the closest rocks, ‘I’ll return to being over-protective about you.’

  They hauled themselves onto the rocks, uncaring about the scrapes and knocks from the swell of the sea that hit them repeatedly against the rough surface until they were clear of the water. Brann glanced to check that Gerens still had the pack with the Star Stone and marvelled, not for the first time in his life, at the boy’s deceptive strength. Then he was content to lie, as the others were, with the sun on his face and the sea breeze brushing over him. When you reduce your life to just dying or not dying, it is astounding how wonderful the most mundane things feel.

  It would be good to see the others again. His eyes shot open. ‘They won’t know!’ Three pairs of eyes turned to him. ‘Cannick and Hakon. And Marlo.’

  ‘Of course,’ Sophaya said. ‘They will have waited in the district where they thought we would emerge.’

  Brann cursed his mistake. ‘When I was told we would escape the keep from below, I assumed it would be through the sewers.’ He thought on how their companions would have scoured the most likely areas while instead they had travelled the gods only knew how far from the edge of the city itself.

  He pushed himself to his feet. ‘We must find them.’

  The movement of the others was all the agreement that was needed.

  The cliff above them was sheer and unscalable, but enough rocks rose from the sea at its base to allow them passage around the wide cove to the headland. Beyond that was perhaps an easier way away from the coast and there was only one means of finding out. As they scrambled their way, Brann couldn’t help but notice it to be the perfect location for the secret river to emerge. Numerous clefts, fissures and caves cut into the cliff, making the cave leading to the river commonplace enough to avoid drawing attention. Further, the bay was littered with rocks that would deter water craft, something that was augmented by the lack of access to and from the land above. There was no reason for anyone to enter this cove, and no chance short of a shipwreck for anyone to find the barred entrance even by accident.

  Grakk seemed to have the same thoughts. ‘Perhaps they should not have installed the bars. If someone found themselves here, they would seek to leave as we do, not explore caves. That draws attention to it.’

  ‘That is true,’ Brann mused. ‘But perhaps the thought of leaving open access to this river was more than they could bear. There are many strange remnants of the past and maybe they gambled that someone wrecked here would have more pressing matters on their mind and would dismiss it as unimportant.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Grakk conceded. ‘Still, I would rather they had not felt the need to build it.’

  Brann smiled. ‘I also. And Grakk, thank you. Once again I owe you my life.’

  The man leapt over a small gap as they neared the headland. The rocks here were above the tide line and dry enough to give them a confidence in their footing. ‘I felt it would have been a terrible waste of time and effort to take you across a desert and back, only to lose you here.’

  Brann laughed. ‘Maybe, but I will never forget you turning back under the water.’

  ‘Fear not, neither will I.’

  Brann’s laugh was redoubled.

  They worked their way gingerly around the tip of land, the rocks here spray-soaked and slippery. The effort was worth it, though. A portion of the cliff not far ahead had collapsed some time in history and offered a route to the top. They took it.

  The area they found themselves in was the last type of landscape Brann expected to see, more akin to his homeland than the arid baked land around and beyond Sagia. It was farmland, fertile and green, stretching to the extent of the view. Not as lush, perhaps, as around his village but then he expected few places were treated to as much rain as the plants in his homeland enjoyed. What grew here had a hardier look to it, which made sense considering that, however fertile the soil and however much it was watered, it still had the unrelenting sun pounding down upon it.

  But it was green where all before had been brown, and Brann saw his surprise mirrored on the faces of Gerens and Sophaya. Not so Grakk, who had torn a strip from the hem of his tunic and was winding it around a shallow cut on his left hand. It was more seeping than bleeding, and the cloth would suffice in the meantime. He glanced at the countryside. ‘Behold the garden of Sagia. We must be west of the city, for there lie the farmlands that feed it, whereas the villages that fish are to the east. The city was founded here more for the great river that runs to a bay not much further along the coast. It splits though, maybe two days’ ride inland, and the smaller branch heads east; smaller only by comparison, for itself it is wider than most other rivers you will see. It runs to another bay, one that has deeper water for anchorage, one that is a natural harbour. The city grew from the mouth of that river, but the two arms of it make a triangle with the coast, and farmers have fed their water into this land to bring forth all the crops that a city teeming with people can need. Some of the richest men in the city are those whose forebears bought the farms of those around them, or acquired them by less honest means.’

  Gerens looked at Sophaya. ‘You did not know of this?’

  ‘Of course I know the Tagorus. It runs right through my city and feeds the canals, everyone knows the river. But this…’ She shrugged. ‘I had never left the walls of the city until this man dragged me across a desert. In the poor quarters you are more concerned that there is food on your plate at all than wondering where it came from.’ She smiled sweetly. ‘And anyway, my crop is reaped in the houses of the rich and from their purses and pockets in the streets.’

  Brann turned to Grakk. ‘How far are we from reaching those streets?’

  Grakk squinted into the distance. ‘Maybe a couple of hours, or three.’

  ‘And if this area is so precious to the city, how likely are we to encounter soldiers safeguarding it?’

  They looked at one another and crouched to retrieve their weapons from the canvas bags. It had been sensible to keep them compact and strapped tight to them when clambering over rocks that they could have caught upon, but now they all felt much more comfortable with them restored to more familiar, and accessible, places.

  They found a dusty track between endless rows of vines and followed Grakk’s lead. It didn’t take long before the sun finished the job of drying their cl
othes, a process it had started while they climbed over the rocks but which had been slowed by the occasional spray of sea water. Small tendrils of steam escaped the black material, as if it were smoke and the fabric were about to burst into flame, but the vaporising water had a cooling effect and Brann enjoyed the feeling while it lasted. The sword bumping gently against his leg felt good, too. After their recent experiences, such simple things were the stuff of the heavens.

  The beating sun drove their thoughts towards shade, but the idea of lounging under a tree didn’t appeal in an area that was regularly patrolled and, in any case, they were urged onwards by the need to find their friends.

  In the end, though, it was their friends who found them. Movement in the haze of the heat resolved into a cart drawn by a single horse. As they drew towards the meagre cover of some twisted olive trees, their trunks barely half the width of even Sophaya’s torso, and conscious of the suspicious appearance of four people clad identically in tight-fitting black clothes, a shout of delight from the cart stopped them. Marlo stood beside the driver – presumably Cannick, from his build – waving vigorously. The pace of the cart was obviously not enough for another, as Hakon leapt from behind the pair and loped towards his four friends.

  Without waiting for words, the boy’s large arms enveloped each of them in turn. Brann’s ribs creaked under the exuberance of the hug and he feared for Sophaya’s slight frame, but still it was a welcome that cheered him to his soul.

  Marlo was soon upon them, also, slapping backs and grinning, while Cannick sat quietly on the cart, reins loose in his hands and a smile settled on his face. ‘You decided against the direct route from the keep, then.’

  Grakk was disentangling himself from Hakon. ‘It was cluttered with too many sharp objects.’

  Brann’s curiosity was cutting through his delight. ‘How did you know where to come?’

  Cannick lifted a wide-brimmed hat from his close-cropped head and wiped his brow with a scarred forearm. ‘The slave who helped you. His master guessed your route would be unknown to us, and sent him to the house with news of the area to head for to look for you.’