The Good Hawk

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The Good Hawk Page 8

by Joseph Elliott


  “Why doesn’t your clan allow marriage?” Lileas asks me now.

  I should have guessed that question was coming. “They used to, a long time ago,” I say. “But then the elders realized it only led to jealousy and resentment. We’re better off without it.”

  She looks at me, unconvinced and slightly offended.

  “Not us, necessarily,” I backtrack, surprised at my own thoughtlessness. “I mean, you’re so young, and, I don’t know — It’s just, I guess we don’t have to be — for the alliance, I mean. Safe to say that’s dead in the — What I’m trying to say is —” What am I trying to say?

  “It’s okay. I understand,” says Lileas. “Marriage isn’t always a bad thing, though. My mother married my father when she was my age, and they have been happy together their whole lives.” Her face drops, and she shuffles in her seat.

  After a few beats, I say, “I’m sure they didn’t know what the chiefs were planning.”

  “What are your parents like?” she asks, changing the subject.

  “The whole clan is my family,” I tell her.

  “I mean your mother and father.”

  “I don’t know who they are. No one does. All children are cared for and loved equally, without favoritism.”

  “You don’t know who your parents are?” She scrunches her nose. “Doesn’t that make you sad?”

  “Why would it make me sad? The ties between us are unbreakable. We are more than content with the way we’ve chosen to live. Or at least we were.”

  Lileas blushes. “I’m sorry,” she says.

  I look out to sea. “You have nothing to apologize for. It’s just hard to accept how much has changed.”

  For a while, the only sound is the creak and splash of the oars as they dip in and out of waves.

  “That’s pretty,” says Lileas, pointing at my bracelet.

  “Thank you. My friend, Aileen, made it for me.”

  “You wish she was here instead of me.” It is a statement, not a question, but it contains no hint of resentment. Not for the first time, I am struck by how astute Lileas is for someone so young.

  “She’s my best friend. Maybe the only close friend I have.”

  She’s the reason I’ll never give up.

  A gannet swoops down and lands on the side of the boat. Agatha springs up from where she’s been resting and shoos it away with manic arms. “Go away, you. Go away, go!”

  The gannet squawks and flies off.

  “See a gannet, make it fly, or someone close is sure to die,” I say. Lileas frowns. “It’s an old saying. People used to believe gannets carried the souls of the dead into the afterlife. They’re supposed to be bad luck.”

  “Don’t blame me, I’m just a bird,” says Lileas, flapping her arms and croaking her voice like a bird’s.

  It is so unexpected that I burst out laughing. Lileas joins in, and we sit there laughing in each other’s faces until our cheeks ache.

  “What are you laughing at?” says Agatha. “It wasn’t even a funny — joke.”

  Lileas falls silent.

  “Sometimes it’s good to laugh,” I say.

  “It’s my t-turn to row anyway,” says Agatha.

  “Thanks. I could do with a break.” I stand up and roll back my shoulders. Agatha’s rowing has improved a little. She’s now good enough not to send us wildly off course at least. She sits down. Lileas presses herself against the side of the boat, away from her. The two have not spoken since Agatha hit her.

  “Have you seen the fish Lileas caught?” I say.

  “Yes, I saw the fish, Jaime,” says Agatha with a scowl.

  “It’s good, isn’t it? We’ve got plenty of food now.”

  What we don’t have is water. Our supply ran out this morning. It’s agonizing to be surrounded by so much water and not be able to drink any of it. I haven’t decided what to do about that yet.

  “I don’t like fish,” says Agatha. The frown on her face shows no sign of disappearing.

  “Lileas just reminded me that she is Clann-a-Tuath now.”

  “No, she’s not.”

  “She is. We got married. That’s how it works. She’s one of us, Agatha. She’s family.”

  Agatha doesn’t reply.

  “Look, we’ve got enough on our hands with that deamhan over there, so it’d be great if the two of you could try to get along.”

  “I’d like that,” says Lileas.

  Agatha presses her teeth into her bottom lip and then says, “Fine. Although I wish you didn’t marry Jaime and I — I hate the chiefs of Raasay. And if I see them again I will — kill them.”

  “If they really did betray your people,” says Lileas, “— our people — then I’ll help you do it.” Her words are rendered even more powerful by the meek voice in which she speaks them.

  Her promise appeases Agatha, who starts chatting with her as if they’ve been friends for years. Satisfied, I slip off to have a quick lie-down. It occurs to me that I haven’t felt seasick all day. Aileen was right; it does get better with time. I lean my head against a bundle of blankets and force myself to relax.

  Rough hands shake me awake. How —? I only just closed my eyes.

  “We’re sinking,” says Agatha. “It wasn’t my fault; I d-didn’t know.”

  Knútr is shouting from the other end of the boat.

  “What should I do?” Agatha says. “T-tell me, Jaime, and I’ll — I’ll do it.”

  I pull myself to my knees and spot the leak right away. Lileas is bent over, trying in vain to block it with her hands. Agatha must have rowed over a high rock. I should have known the coastline would be rocky. This is my fault. We should have stayed in deeper water.

  “Jaime, what should we do?” Agatha asks me again.

  I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.

  “We have to swim to the shore,” says Lileas.

  That is not a good idea. Besides, we need the boat. The water is already up to my ankles. There’s no way we can save it.

  “I can’t,” Agatha shouts. “I can’t do that. I can’t do s — I can’t do swimming.”

  “I’ll help you,” says Lileas. She upends a crate and hands it to Agatha. “When the boat sinks, keep hold of this and kick your legs.”

  “But the shadow things, Jaime! They’ll get us! We can’t go there, we can’t.”

  “We don’t have a choice,” I say, realizing as I say it that it’s true. We’re going to have to swim. To Scotia. Right now, I’m more concerned with what might be in the water than what we might find on land.

  “Take off the rope! Take off the rope!” Knútr hollers. “You need me. I cannot die.”

  I’d forgotten about him. What do I do with him? If the boat goes down while he’s still attached to it, he’ll drown. Is that what we want?

  No, we need him. He’s all we have to bargain with. I have to believe he is who he says he is. I have to keep him alive.

  But if I untie him, he’ll attack us while we’re panicked and disoriented. The water is rising fast. I need to make a decision. Come on, come on, come on.

  I look to the bowsprit. If I can detach it somehow, maybe I can release Knútr without needing to untie him first. Is that the right thing to do? I don’t know. If I don’t break it off in time, he’ll be dragged down with the boat.

  I stumble toward him and then crawl over his body until I am balanced on the wooden spar that extends over the water from the front of the boat. Holding on to it with both hands, I swing down, dangling my feet into the water. I then start to kick the front of the boat, trying to break apart the paneling.

  “What do you do?” shouts Knútr. “No, no, no! Take off the rope!”

  I ignore him and continue to kick with both feet, swinging out each time to gain more momentum. Agatha is shouting for me. I should be helping her instead. It’s too late now. I swing out and kick again. It is having no impact at all. Although the boat is old, it’s sturdier than I’d anticipated. My plan is terrible; this is never going to wo
rk. I pull myself back up.

  “Listen to me,” I say to Knútr. “I’m not going to untie you, so if you want to survive, you’re going to have to help. I’m trying to break off the part of the boat behind you, so I need you to strike back with all your weight while I kick from the other side. Understand?”

  He doesn’t reply but lifts himself as far forward as he’s able, preparing to do what I said. I slip back down over the water and continue to kick as he thuds from the opposite side. The water is halfway up my thighs. We’re running out of time.

  “Harder!” I yell. The boat starts to tip; I only have time for one more kick before it goes under. I swing out and slam my feet into the wooden slats as hard as I can. There is a crack, but the bowsprit does not detach. The front of the boat jerks upward and then the whole thing sinks in one fluid motion. Still clutching on, I’m sucked under with it. I hold my breath. One more kick, one more kick. Knútr doubles his efforts, and one kick is all it takes. The wood shatters and the front of the boat is torn apart. Knútr propels himself to the surface, dragging me up with him.

  “You are crazy boy,” he says once we break the surface.

  “You’re alive, aren’t you?”

  I look for the others. Agatha is using the crate to keep herself afloat, and Lileas is helping her swim toward land.

  “Start kicking,” I say to Knútr. “You’re a big guy; there’s no way I’m hauling you all the way in.”

  With a grunt, he does as I say. Despite the fact that he’s still tied to the remains of the bowsprit, he moves through the water at an impressive speed. I grip the ropes and let him pull me along, desperate to be out of the water.

  When we reach land, he tries to bolt, but I still have a hold on the ropes, and one sharp tug is enough to bring him to the ground. I kneel on his back while I remove the shards of broken boat and retie the knots.

  “Don’t try that again,” I say.

  His beard is covered in sand. He spits out bits of grit with an angry frown. I grin. The plan worked. I saved him. Only now I’m doubting whether that was the right thing to do. As long as he’s tied up, he can’t hurt us. Can he?

  I hurry to my feet, pulling him up with me, then turn around in a jerky circle, scanning the beach where we’ve landed. It is sludge gray and spattered with bleak rock pools. It stretches for as far as I can see in both directions, with only a few ugly rocks to break up the monotony. In front of us, a small sandbank leads up to a cluster of wiry trees. There is no sign of life. I push Knútr ahead of me and walk over to Agatha and Lileas.

  “I carried as much as I could,” says Lileas, shivering from the cold. “Most of the things fell out when we were swimming.”

  A small pile of supplies lies at her feet: a broken mug, a blanket, and a small package of dried meat. It could be worse. She is also holding the wooden heron I carved for her, which makes me smile even though it’s not going to be useful to us in any way.

  “You did great,” I say. I wring out the blanket as best as I can and stuff the meat into my pocket to share later.

  Agatha flicks her head from left to right as if expecting something to jump out at us at any moment. She’s right to be nervous. We’re on the mainland. The place where no one comes. The place where everyone died.

  “What are we — what are we going to do, Jaime?” Agatha asks me.

  “I don’t —” I take a moment to calm my breath. Then another moment. “Maybe this is a good thing.” It’s definitely not a good thing. “We can cross Scotia much faster than we could have sailed around it. We might even be able to intercept the deamhain before they cross the North Sea.”

  “But what about the b-boat?”

  “We’ll find another one. A better one.”

  “But how?”

  I don’t know. I have no idea about anything.

  “I know where we find boat,” says Knútr.

  “Really? Where?” I ask.

  “Trust me,” he says. His smile is rotten fruit. “Finding boat is good for me, good for you. We find it in harbor by big castle, on coast of east.”

  “You mean Dunnottar Castle?” I ask. It’s where the Scotian king used to live. Maistreas Sorcha told us about it. The whole royal family lived there, but they’re all dead now, killed by the plague, along with everyone else.

  “I show you the way,” says Knútr.

  “How do you know where to go?” I ask. “Have you been here before?”

  “No, but I see map in my country and I remember. Also, I am very, very clever.”

  Once again, I find myself agreeing to a terrible plan through lack of better alternatives. Trusting Knútr is the last thing I want to do, but I know next to nothing about this land.

  “Fine,” I say. “The sooner we get there the better.”

  The trees at the top of the sandbank are spindly and mean. Their shadows writhe in the wind. Could there be shadow things — sgàilean — hiding within them, ready to grab us as we pass?

  Of course not. Sgàilean aren’t real. It’s impossible to remove someone’s shadow, and even if you could, shadows definitely can’t sneak around and attack people.

  Even still, anything could be waiting for us just beyond the trees.

  A sudden sea breeze whips around us, as if urging us to take our first steps.

  “Let’s go,” I say.

  We walk up the beach in silence, into the unknown.

  Stay in your room

  Stay in your room

  Something’s happening

  Something bad

  People are sick

  You’ll be safe in here

  I’m going to lock you in

  I’m going to lock the door

  But I’ll be back

  I promise

  I’ll be back

  I love you darling

  Darling girl

  Precious angel

  I love you

  I’ll be back

  I promise

  I’ll be back

  I promise I promise I promise

  I’m waiting Daddy

  I’m waiting

  I didn’t mean to be a naughty girl

  Stay in your room

  Stay in your room

  I couldn’t

  All the food was gone

  Please don’t be mad Daddy

  Please don’t shout

  The door doesn’t open so I broke it

  Smashed it

  Mummy won’t be pleased

  All the mess

  I was too hungry

  If you don’t feed the birds the dogs won’t catch them

  We all need to eat

  Except for them

  They don’t eat

  They only kill

  It’s all they know how to do

  WE WON’T BE GOING BACK TO THE ENCLAVE FOR A LONG time. I know it now. We are far away. The only thing I’m glad is I have Milkwort with me. He didn’t like it on the boat and he didn’t like it even more in the water. He had to go on my head so he didn’t get wet. He is happier now. We are in Scotia which is a big place and a bad one. It is dangerous, but I’m not afraid. We haven’t seen any shadow things or any terror beasts. All we saw is some birds and a ferret once which isn’t scary.

  The nasty deamhan goes first. He says he knows which way from the stars but there aren’t any stars so I don’t know. He says it will take five days or maybe six days to walk to where the harbor is. It’s next to the castle and that’s where we’ll get the boat. When everyone died they left the boats there. We have already been walking a lot. It is tiring to do so much walking. Jaime tells the nasty deamhan to go slower so I can catch up.

  A few times we hear a sound that is like an animal or something big. I ask Jaime what it is that makes that sound, but he says he doesn’t know. The nasty deamhan says it is probably a moose or a bear but I didn’t ask him. I know what a bear is but I don’t know what a moose is. Maybe it’s a terror beast.

  Jaime has tied the deamhan up tight. I hate him. I’m not
going to talk to him. Last night I made Jaime tie him up away from me. I talk to Lileas though. She helped me with the swimming. She is not bad like I thought. Earlier she told me something so funny. It was about the sea doing a wee which is funny because the sea can’t do that and also seaweed so I laughed so much.

  There is a river and we stop to drink some water. I wash my hair in it to make it pretty. It is not nice when it is salty with seawater. It is hard to get all the salty out.

  “That’s two boats you’ve sunk in two weeks,” Jaime said to me yesterday when we were walking. “That’s pretty impressive.”

  He was smiling so he wasn’t cross. I told him the first one was not my fault because I was only doing my duty and I was clever to use my sock to make the fire, and the second one was also not my fault because I did not know about the rocks and no one said.

  My boots are wet which makes my feet sore, but it’s okay because we have to keep doing the walking. We are going to find our clan and to save them. It’s the most important thing. The ground is hard and stones. I wish it didn’t always rain so much. We need to find something to eat because we don’t have any food now. And we also need to find somewhere to sleep. Yesterday we ate the meat that Lileas took from the boat but now it’s all gone and I’m hungry. I couldn’t sleep last night because I was so hungry. When we find somewhere to sleep tonight, Jaime says he will get us some food. I like Jaime. He is my best friend.

  After more walking we are in a place where there is more trees and it is colder now and darker. There are sounds around us like I don’t know what they are.

  “What do you think that is?” I ask Lileas.

  “It sounds like a bird,” she says. “Maybe an owl. Nothing to worry about.” She holds my hand and I like that.

  “We have to look out for the — terror beasts,” I say.

  “What exactly is a terror beast?” says Lileas.

  “They’re the animals that live here now that everyone is d-dead,” I say.

  “Oh,” she says. “How did everyone die?”

 

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