“How are you?” he asked.
Her weak smile hovered on her lips. “I hurt.”
He tightened his grip on her hand. “Did Bax do this to you? Did he hit you?”
Her expression did not change, but from deep inside her she pushed out a sigh. “Why do you do this to yourself, Captain?”
“What?”
“Look for whom to blame. If you can’t find anyone, will you blame yourself? The way you do for Rem and Markis and Franklin and Kenzie and Edric. And now Joseph. Tell me, Captain, what else do you blame yourself for?”
He stayed there a minute longer, wishing he could suffer for her. He lifted her hand and pressed it to his lips. He did not care who saw him. He would have done the same if the whole world were watching. “Rest, Mirela,” he said, leaning close to her ear. “Nothing will disturb you here.”
He rose. He nodded to Elias and Leech on his way to the door and both men followed him out.
“I can’t go,” he said, turning to them as soon as they were outside.
“Dane,” Leech said. “You have to go.”
“I can’t leave them like this.”
“If you think you can find any answer on Tira - any way to make sense of what is happening here - then you owe it to them. You owe it to every one of us who has suffered here.”
“But I can wait.”
“No, you can’t,” Leech said. “Every day we’re here more of us will die.”
“Then we’ll all go. I won’t leave anyone behind.”
“We can’t. It would kill them for sure to travel now.”
“Then send someone else.”
“It has to be you. You said so yourself. You are your father’s son, the one man the Tirans are most likely to receive.”
“But I can’t take half our strength away. Not after what happened tonight.”
“Dane,” Elias said. “So far all their strikes against us have relied on stealth and deception. Bailus thinks maybe this island is some kind of sacred spiritual site for them. Likely their army is not even here. Maybe there’s only a small group of priests who make the island their home year-round. Everything they’ve done so far could be attributed to that. If we are vigilant, we can hold the fort with half our number.”
“But if they do land in force?” Dane said.
Elias sighed. “I’m no soldier. But even I know that, if they come in force, having fifteen men on the walls as opposed to thirty makes no more difference than all being dead in five minutes rather than in ten.”
“I can’t leave her,” Dane said.
Leech swore. “And what do you think you’ll be able to do for her, Dane? Dig her grave?”
“But Bailus is sick. Bax and Forsythe are going with me. I won’t leave Bax here with her like this. Who will lead if we’re all gone, if we never come back?”
Leech glanced at Elias. “We’ll lead until you return.”
“That’s more than I can ask of you,” Dane said.
“Just get there, get your answers, and get back here as soon as you can.”
“I’m afraid it won’t be soon enough,” Dane said.
“Then there’s no point in you staying here anyway,” Leech said.
***
Dawn never seemed to come. Night bled out into a gray twilight. They buried Joseph beneath the dark earth under a leaden sky. Dane and his company walked out to the Bloodwake as soon as the last shovelful of earth had been flung down. No one accompanied them to the docks. Rawl and Paul watched them from above the south gate until they disappeared around a bend in the trail.
“You’ve sure got this figured out, your highness,” Bax said, walking close behind Dane. “Leaving as soon as things get really bad. Do you think any of those saps back there have guessed your game? That you’ll be sailing us right past Tira and straight on to Daddy with your tail between your legs. Who needs Haven? You can find other ways to make your peace with your old man.”
“Don’t act so smug,” Dane said. “You wouldn’t stay now if I ordered you to.”
“True,” Bax said. “But then when have your orders ever meant anything to me?”
Bax’s words were always the worst when they had some truth in them. Dane did feel he was abandoning those still on the island. He wondered if they felt the same way. He remembered his last words to Leech. He had passed through the fortress on his way to the beach with the intent of seeing Mirela one last time. She had been sleeping. He’d watched her from the doorway, then turned to Leech. “Do everything you can for her.”
“We are.”
“I mean it. Treat her as though she were my own sister.”
“Dane.”
He nodded. He glanced around the room. Elias was stoking the fire. Josie sat by Mirela’s side. Her eyes were red. Had she slept at all last night? He patted Leech’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said. “She’s in the best of hands.” He looked at each of their faces once more. All so young. All so brave.
He wondered if there would be anyone left to dig their graves when their time came.
***
“It’s wasn’t human,” Paul said. He and Rawl had come down from the wall after watching Dane depart and joined the others already at breakfast. “It came right over the wall. No ladder, no rope. Like it just dropped out of the sky.”
“Or appeared out of thin air,” Crane said.
“Neither of you were there, and it’s not something you should be talking about,” Rawl said, pausing between hasty spoonfuls of gruel. He wanted to finish breakfast as quickly as possible. This was not a conversation he wanted to have, and the fact that the only seats left at the table had been next to Rundal and his hangers-on made it all the worse.
“Well, I was there,” Rundal said, “And I can tell you we’ve been going about this all wrong. We should just forget the colonists. Forget about trying to find them or avenge them. Whatever did them is doing us now, and I tell you it’s not the kind of thing a man can fight. It’s not the kind of thing he was meant to fight.”
“So what’s your idea?” Paul said. “Turn tail and sail for home?”
“That would hardly gain us anything, now would it?” Rundal said.
“You want us to surrender to them?” Crane asked.
“Surrender. Or serve them.”
“You’d be their slave?” Paul asked.
At that moment, Fletcher Dibsy passed by. He stopped behind Rawl, placing both hands on his shoulders and leaning over him. “Who’s going to drink my health tonight?” he asked.
“What’s the occasion?” Crane asked.
“It’s my birthday,” Fletcher said. “It’s my birthday and my best friend here didn’t even remember.” He slapped Rawl’s shoulders.
“I didn’t forget,” Rawl said. “Happy birthday, Fletch.” I remembered, Rawl thought, but somehow Joseph’s funeral didn’t seem like the time or place to say it.
“Am I interrupting something?” Fletcher asked.
“No,” Rawl said.
“Then you won’t mind if I take the time to invite you all to raid the whisky supply with me in my honor tonight.”
Raid the whisky supply? What did Fletch think this was? A hunting party? A holiday? “I’ll be on the wall.”
Fletch slapped his shoulders again. “I haven’t even told you what time yet. You’re not going to be on the wall all night, are you? Midnight. The storage cellar.” Fletcher slapped Rawl’s shoulders a final time and sauntered off.
Rundal turned back to Paul and leaned close. “Not their slave,” Rundal said. “Their priest.”
“You think they’re some kind of god?” Paul asked.
“They’re more real, and more powerful, than the ones our priest claims to serve. Imagine the power we would have as priests to such beings.”
“We don’t even know what they are,” Crane said.
“But we know what they’re like,” Rundal said.
Rawl got up noisily and left the table. He stepped outside to the wash basin and dipped his dish
beneath the gray water. Elias was standing there washing dishes and stacking them to dry. Rawl helped him. As they were working, Owen came out of the mess hall and walked off in the direction of the barracks. Rawl looked up. He noticed Elias was watching Owen.
“You’d never know he’d been injured,” Elias said.
Rawl did not know if he was speaking to him or to himself.
“More than injured, sir,” he said. “It’s a good thing you knew what to do.”
“It makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”
“What’s that, sir?”
“If a man could do for the island what the stone did for Owen.”
***
Despite their best efforts, Dane’s crew made poor time and it was dark by the time they approached the sheltered beach that served as the doorstep of the greatest of Tira’s villages. Dane had the men hold the Bloodwake a short ways back from the beach.
“Who’s there?” came the challenge from shore.
Dane climbed up on the prow. The fires of the village burned like fierce eyes in the darkness, and between them and himself he could see the shadowy shapes of sentries passing on the beach. Forsythe came up beside him. He was holding his javelin. Dane caught his eye and shook his head. Even at this distance, Forsythe had deadly aim with the throwing spear. Dane wasn’t sure his presence here wouldn’t lead to hostilities, but he wanted to give peace the best chance he could. He had Forsythe lay the weapon on the deck out of sight.
“Who’s there?” the sentry called again.
“I am Dane, son of Arvis Hallander,” Dane called, cupping his hands to his mouth. “Hail, Tomka, Lord of Tira.”
Silence from the beach. Dane thought he’d seen one of the sentries moving back towards the village but he wasn’t sure. He felt the tension build behind him in the silence of his men. He watched the fires. Finally, he saw a body of people pass between two fires. The weapons in their hands glinted in the ruddy light. They were headed for the beach.
“Beach your ship,” the sentry boomed.
Dane nodded to Forsythe. His steersman gave orders to the men behind him. They did as they were told. As soon as the prow was nested snugly on the sand, Dane jumped down to the beach. Reluctantly, his men followed him. He had ordered them to leave all weapons on board. Some of them had complained at the thought of laying down their weapons before walking among a conquered people, but Dane had held his ground. If there was violence, there would be no point in resisting, and he did not want to give the Tirans any reason to suspect their motives were anything but peaceful.
Dane started up the beach. Tomka, leader of the Tirans, came down to meet him at the head of a column of armed men. The two men embraced. This did not mean they had any special affection for one another. It was simply the greeting custom on Tira. “The troop rotation is not till the end of this moon cycle, or I am mistaken,” Tomka said. He referred to the rotation of Tiran soldiers to bolster Dane’s father’s armies on the mainland. Every two months, a ship arrived from the mainland and bore away a contingent of soldiers. Two months later, the ship returned, bearing the Tiran troops back to their families and departing with the next group.
“That is my father’s business,” Dane said. “Not mine.”
“Then what brings you here?” Tomka asked.
“I came seeking answers.”
“This is a strange thing. What could we know that you would wish to learn?”
Dane knelt on the beach and, with his finger, scratched the hated symbol in the sand. He was not familiar enough with it to draw it in reverse, so he drew it as he had seen it, so that it was upside-down from Tomka’s point of view. Tomka circled around the lines, his eyes never leaving them, until he stood beside Dane. He made a hasty movement with his foot, erasing the drawing. A low murmur ran through his men.
Dane rose. “So you’re familiar with it?”
“Never before has that mark been made on this island, young lord. I will ask you never to make it here again.”
“Fair enough,” Dane said. “But I will ask you to tell me what it means.”
“There are some things no man should speak in the darkness. If you would have our counsel on it, you must wait until dawn.”
“I can’t wait,” Dane said. “The lives of my people depend on it.”
“And I will not risk bringing the curse of this thing on my island – not even if your father were here to threaten me with all his armies,” Tomka said. “You will wait, or you must go.”
***
That afternoon, Rawl crossed from the kitchen to the infirmary with a heavy pot and several bowls. He helped serve up portions of the afternoon meal to Leech, Elias, and Josie, who had not left the infirmary since returning from Joseph’s funeral. Mara was still sleeping but Bailus was awake and sitting up and took some soup with the others. Leech made him take second and then third helpings of broth.
When they had finished eating, Rawl told Josie he wanted to show her something outside. He led her across the courtyard to where the targets Paul and he had used yesterday still hung. He handed her his crossbow. “Want to give it a go?”
He showed her how to fit the bolts into the magazine and how to pump-load the bow. She was pretty awkward with it at first, having to tilt the bow at a funny angle to be able to pump it, and more than once the bolts came clattering out of the magazine and fell to the ground. But she was determined. By sunset she could hold the bow steady as she loaded it and she was hitting the targets regularly from 15 paces. Bailus came out after a few hours and sat in a chair with a blanket over his shoulders and watched them. “Interesting technique, Master Johnson,” he said. “I’d no idea instruction in the use of the crossbow required so much touching. Or giggling.”
Rawl’s face turned red but he turned to Bailus with a grin. “Perhaps that’s what you’ve been doing wrong all these years, sir.”
Bailus grunted. “Well, it’s probably too late to change now.”
***
That night, as Tomka feasted them, Dane worked his way over to Bax, who was sitting by one of the fires. He would have left Bax in command of the settlement if need be, but he had his own reasons for bringing him with him. He sat across the fire from him in silence for an hour until the others had gone to bed. Either for stubbornness or because he sensed Dane wanted to talk to him, Bax stayed at the fire. The noises of the village died down around them. Finally Dane spoke. “I’m sorry about your child, Bax.”
Bax was silent for a moment, then shifted and rose to his feet. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, your highness,” he said. “This world’s already got its share of bastards.” He turned to head off into the darkness.
“Sell her to me, Bax.”
Bax stiffened and stopped walking but did not turn around. “We’ve been over this before.”
“You’re not pleased with her.”
Bax turned towards him. He seemed to be in thought. “She has been more trouble than she’s worth. Tried running away more times than I can count. But then, where would I get another one?”
“Sell her to me,” Dane said, “And there’s no need for you to get back on that ship tomorrow morning. You can return to the mainland next week with the troop ship.”
“And what would your father do when I return without you?”
“You know full well what he’ll do,” Dane said. “He’ll make you his heir in my place.”
Bax sat back down at the fire. “For all you know, she’s already dead.”
Dane lost his voice at these words. He could only nod.
“Alright, your highness,” Bax said. “I’ll think about it.”
***
Just before midnight, Fletcher Dibsy stole across the courtyard towards the cellar. He carried a candle in one hand and cupped the flame with the other, more to hide its light than to keep it from going out as he walked. Dane had banned drinking except for the mealtime allotments – which were anything but festive portions. But Dane was miles away, and even if he were here, Fle
tcher liked to think he would have chanced it. Dane’s bark was worse than his bite. Fletcher saw the way Bax talked to him, and Dane never did a thing about it. At any rate, he figured coming here was worth the risk. Still, he liked at least pretending to be furtive about this midnight run.
Fletcher opened the door of the cellar and slipped inside. He looked over his shoulder once before closing the door behind him. He did not think anyone had noticed him. The sentries were all facing the woods anyway, he imagined. He leaned against the door, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Outside he’d had a nearly full moon to light his path; in here he had to make do with the feeble flame of the candle. He sniffed. There was a slight burnt smell in the air. He sniffed the stream of smoke from the candle. It smelled only of hot wax. There was a noise of movement from farther back in the room.
“Hello?” he called.
No answer.
He frowned. Probably just a rat. He had invited Rawl twice to join him and twice Rawl had made excuses. But Fletcher guessed these were merely Rawl’s way of misleading him so he could surprise him. Fletcher plunked down the steps to the dug-out floor. He had to duck under the hams that hung from the beams above his head. The light of his candle reached the back wall. He smiled.
Casks lined nearly the entire length of the wall except for one space in the far corner. He hoped the others would be along shortly, but if not, it was their loss. He need not wait. He was a man, and he could drink alone. He pulled his cloak about his shoulders. There was a draft in the room and a strange chill in the air.
He stood for a while just looking at the casks with a feeling of satisfaction and accomplishment as though he had personally made and filled each one. He ran his hands over several of them before selecting a gallon sized one. He set it on its end and used his knife to pry the cork out. Reaching under his cloak, he untied from his belt a large ceramic mug he had swiped from the kitchen. His birthday present to himself.
Just as he was tipping the barrel towards the mouth of his mug, something moved in the rafters over his head. He straightened up quickly, almost upsetting the barrel. Then he smiled and relaxed. Wasn’t it just like Rawl to say he wasn’t coming and then hide out in the attic and try to scare him? He filled his mug to the brim.
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