by Perry Aylen
Chapter 5
They sailed on into the dusk, finally anchoring down as darkness obscured the ice, and the sharp stars pierced the indigo velvet of the cold night sky. Retiring to the cabin, they opened up the stove and stoked it high with a generous helping of the stored wood until it glowed with the heat. Aulf put a couple of pans on the top and produced several blocks of frozen food from his store.
They were easier with each other now, despite the cramped confines of the cabin, so overstuffed with all that they had salvaged from the wrecked boat that they had to rest their feet on the boxes of stores and books.
‘That smells good!’ Elya remarked as steam began to rise from the pans.
Aulf looked modest. ‘Oh, it’s nothing!’ he replied.
Elya saw that Ingar was laughing. She thought that she must be missing something, but they were not laughing at her. She looked between them and wondered about their relationship. They were clearly comfortable in each other’s company, yet they did not appear to be a couple. Aulf had referred to Ingar as his crew, but Elya, recalling the flush of pleasure on Ingar’s face when he said that, knew it was not that simple.
‘What about the two of you?’ she asked, while they were waiting for the food to cook. ‘You know about us. What about you?’
Aulf gave a good-natured grin. ‘You know most of what there is to know about me already. ‘I’m a mail man, and this is how I spend my days, sailing between the islands, delivering the mail.’
‘Have you always been a mail man?’
‘I used to help my father when he did it, and when he died, I took over from him. Apart from that, I have Ma. She and I take care of each other. Well, she takes care of Ingar too, now.’
Ingar flashed a little smile of acknowledgement in his direction.
‘Actually,’ he added, with another broad grin, ‘thinking about it, Ma looks after everyone!’
‘What about you, Ingar?’ Elya turned her attention to the wiry, redheaded girl who was sitting with her feet up on a large box of books, her thin arms hugging her knees close to her body. Her clothes hung from her slight frame and the flames dancing in the open stove flickered in the amber depths of her eyes, set deep in her freckled face. ‘Where are you from?’
Ingar gave a little shrug. ‘Here and there,’ she murmured. After a moment’s hesitation, she added, awkwardly, ‘My parents died when I was very small. I was passed around a lot, and then I ran away.’
Elya, sensing her reticence to talk about herself, tactfully changed her approach. ‘How did you two meet then?’
Aulf and Ingar exchanged glances.
‘Ingar came to my rescue,’ Aulf replied, with a wry smile. ‘The better part of a year ago now, in Quayven harbour. I ran into trouble with a man called Ivor.’
‘Ivor the thug!’ put in Ingar with unexpected feeling.
‘What happened?’ Elya looked intrigued.
‘It was just after the death of my father,’ Aulf told her, frowning a little. ‘In fact, the very first mail delivery I ever did on my own. I’d just moored up when Ivor appeared on the dock, demanding to speak to the master. He knew full well my father was dead, so I told him that I was the master now.
‘He sneered and told me that I was lucky to run into him because he was looking for a new boat. He had his two sons with him - Thorold and Ector - and I could tell there was going to be trouble, just from their faces and the way they stood.
‘I told him I wasn’t interested in selling, and he laughed and said he wasn’t interested in buying; he was going to take over my boat and the mail deliveries, as a favour to me and the mail line.
‘They jumped onto the deck, and dragged me across the deck to the cabin door. I knew that once we were in the cabin and out of sight, I was going to be in real trouble, but as Thorold shoved me through the door, I broke his hold, and spun round, ready to take him on. But he was already staggering backwards, looking terrified, with a knife at his throat and little beads of blood in a thin line across his neck! There was a wild dervish clinging to his back - a mass of red hair with a very sharp knife! I had no idea where she’d sprung from. Thorold pitched back across the deck to the rail, with the wild thing still attached to his back, and struggling to keep the knife from his throat. When he reached the rail, the creature sprang free and tipped him headlong over the side onto the ice. I swear she was hissing and spitting like a cat! Then she spun back round and hurled her knife at Ector. He managed to dodge it, and fled across the pontoon. As quick as a flash, the girl scooped up the knife I’d dropped and swung round on Ivor. I’ve never seen him move so nimbly! He vaulted the rail like a frightened rat, and headed off up the pontoon as if a whole pack of wolves was at his tail. But then he stopped running, and I realised Ector was coming back down the pontoon with reinforcements, three of them, all looking very mean.
‘The red-haired banshee yelled at me to run, and I shouted at her to cut the painter. I dropped the mainsail and we were away. Fortunately, they didn’t try and follow me. The Aurora’s a fast boat. I guess they realised there was little point. And finally I got to find out who my rescuer was and to thank her.’
Aulf nodded in Ingar’s direction. ‘I’d heard Ingar’s name mentioned once or twice on various islands.’ His mouth twisted again in the same wry smile.
‘He means,’ Ingar explained to Elya and Jacob, ‘that I had a bit of a reputation. I’d been in trouble a few times.’
‘If it hadn’t been for Ingar, I wouldn’t be here now,’ said Aulf with certainty. ‘I’ve never met anyone who can fight like she can!’
‘I’ve had plenty of practice,’ put in Ingar, darkly. ‘Besides which,’ she added, her amber eyes flashing, ‘I hate Ivor and his sons!’
The venom with which she made this pronouncement made Elya and Jacob look at her more closely.
Aulf went on. ‘She told me afterwards that she had been hiding on a nearby rooftop when she saw my boat pull in. That’s why she had such a good view of everything that was going on in the harbour.’
Ingar nodded, still burning with fierce passion. ‘You can’t mistake the Aurora. She’s so fast and elegant. I’d tried to get work on some of the other boats – barges mostly - but nobody wanted to take me on. The Aurora was my favourite. I could always spot her approaching across the ice, although I was surprised to see her that day, because we all knew that the mailman was dead. And then I saw that cockroach, Ivor, and his miserable sons and I could tell they were looking for trouble. So I headed down to the harbour to help.’
She broke off suddenly, and got up to stir the pot that was bubbling on the stove. Aulf was left to finish the tale. ‘After we escaped that day, I asked her if there was anywhere I could drop her. Under the circumstances it didn’t seem like a good idea to take her back to Quayven. That was almost a year ago. I’m still waiting to hear where she wants to go.’
Ingar dropped the lid back on the pot and turned round to face them again, a satisfied smile on her freckled face. It was obvious to them all, that she was precisely where she wanted to be.
Chapter 6
The next morning Aulf called them up on deck to help lever the boat. The heat from the cabin had melted the ice under the craft so that the runners were now frozen to it. A pair of spars had been pinned inboard of the runners so they could be used to lever the craft, but because of all the extra weight, Aulf could not manage this alone. They all strained on the spars until they heard a clear ‘crack’, and the boat was free.
The sun rose over the frozen sea, dazzling them, and the sky stretched like a vast dome of incandescent blue over the unbroken flatness of the ocean. Elya took some beef tea to Aulf, which wasn’t easy as he was sitting in his customary position on the outrigger, continually scanning the ice ahead. He was a strange sight with his leather hood pulled over his head. She recalled him polishing the leather the previous evening, after they had finished eating. In fact, that had been the first time she had seen him without the headgear around his neck or over his head.
The leather had a deep worn patina. Layers of leather had been sewn around the eye pieces to hold the glass lenses securely in place, small, painstakingly neat stitching. Glass was rare at home. She had not seen any other glass on the boat and supposed it was the same here. The goggles were valuable. They made fast sailing possible, and the stitching was obviously a labour of love. No wonder Aulf never took them off.
In the middle of the afternoon, they sighted a wooded island with no visible sign of habitation, but Aulf sailed straight for it. As the shore rushed towards them with alarming speed, Elya, with some relief, saw that they were aiming for a small inlet. Ingar started to wind a block and Jacob went to lend a hand. She was lifting the outriggers. Elya had not realised before that they could be folded in. As they shot into the little creek and the inlet widened, Ingar changed the winding direction, dropping the riggers back. They sailed a short distance further and rounded a bend. Ahead of them was a pontoon with a small cluster of outbuildings behind, and unusually close to the ice, a long, low farmhouse of thick stone, built against an outcrop of rock, with thatch piled as high again as the walls. Where most dwellings were built inland, away from the ice, to take advantage of the heat rising through the ground, this one was close to the ice for convenience whilst tapping into the warm rock outcrop behind. As Aulf sidled the boat up to the pontoon, and leapt down onto the wooden boards to make her fast, the farmhouse door opened and a woman appeared in the doorway, waving and smiling. She was small and upright, with her bright gaze fixed firmly on the Aurora.
‘That’s Ma,’ said Aulf to the twins. ‘My mother. She and my father bought this place here on Jakir Chine while they were still running the mail. Somewhere to retire to. Only my father didn’t make it to retirement.’ A little dent creased Aulf’s brow as he spoke, but faded again almost instantly. Aulf’s wasn’t a face designed for frowning. ‘You’ll like Ma, and there’s space to store everything here.’
They hurried towards the welcoming warmth of the house. Ma had Aulf’s startlingly blue eyes. Her fair hair, greying here and there, was drawn back into a neat loop on the back of her head. She hugged them all indiscriminately, and ushered them swiftly into her kitchen.
After the confines of the boat and the cold emptiness of the ice, the warm farmhouse kitchen was inviting. As they settled themselves around the square planked table, large steaming mugs of sweet herb tea were pushed into their hands, almost before they had got their mittens off. As they sipped the scalding drinks, Aulf related to his mother the whole tale of finding the twins, and their close shave with the raiders.
Elya pulled off her coat and hat, and shook free her long dark hair. Cradling her mug in her hands, she let her eyes roam, taking in the long black range against one wall, with several pots simmering busily on top, and a side of meat hung to cure above it. On racks above that, bundles of herbs were drying. Along the walls were shelves stacked with pots, jugs and jars of every size. Big, richly gleaming copper saucepans hung from hooks in the wall, and brightly coloured knotted rugs adorned the stone floor, the chairs made soft and inviting with multicoloured patchwork cushions.
She looked with some longing at the pots on the stove. Mouth watering smells were rising with the steam and making her stomach rumble.
‘Aulf must have inherited his cooking skills from you,’ she told Ma. ‘We’ve eaten like kings on the Aurora.’
‘Aulf!’ Ma gave a snort of laughter. ‘Aulf can’t boil an egg!’
Elya looked taken aback. Aulf and Ingar were grinning.
‘Ma cooks wonderful meals,’ Ingar explained, ‘then she divides them into portions and leaves them outside to freeze. When Aulf’s supplies run low, he stops off to pick up his next batch of ready-made meals. All he has to do is heat up the food in the right order. You were just lucky you didn’t get porridge with soup on top!’
Ignoring the insults, Aulf turned back to his mother. ‘We salvaged a lot of things from Jacob and Elya’s boat, Ma. I thought it might draw unwanted attention if we turned up in Quayven with it all on board. I was hoping we could store them here in the barn.’
‘And there was me thinking you’d come to visit your old Ma!’ teased his mother. ‘Of course you can use the barn. There’s plenty of space out there. You go and get on with it before it gets dark, and I’ll make up some extra beds and see to supper for us all.’
By the time they had finished unloading and transferring everything from the boat to the barn, it was getting dark and they were all very hungry. After shedding layers of clothes, they sat down, more than ready to tuck into mutton stew and crusty bread, potted meat, cheese wrapped in nettle leaves, and even honey for the sweet-toothed. Some things were new to Jacob and Elya, like bramble jam, instantly Elya’s favourite. Guiltily spreading a third generous helping of the dark jelly over a slice of bread, she giggled as Ingar caught her eye whilst doing the same.
Despite their ordeal, Jacob and Elya ate hungrily, but shadows of fatigue circled their green eyes. Ma seemed to sense their weariness, and directed her conversation at Aulf and Ingar, leaving the twins to their food and their thoughts, and when they had all eaten enough, she said, ‘You two look all in. You’ve had a long day. Would you like to go to bed?’
Elya smiled gratefully, and Ma got up to show them to the room she had prepared. Ma’s farmhouse was spacious, laid out in traditional Hexult style, with all the rooms opening off the main kitchen. Jacob and Elya’s room was almost entirely consumed by a huge bed piled high with an undulating mountain of downy quilts.
‘Poor mites!’ said Ma, after the door had closed behind Jacob and Elya. Aulf couldn’t help smiling as both Jacob and Elya had dwarfed his diminutive mother. ‘What a dreadful time they’ve had! And all those days sailing over the open ice. What do you make of that, Aulf?’
‘I don’t know what to make of it,’ Aulf confessed. ‘I wasn’t sure whether to believe it or not at first, but I think I do now.’
‘They’re definitely not from round here,’ put in Ingar. ‘That odd way they have of speaking, the strange things they know...’
‘They’re certainly not like anyone I’ve ever met,’ Ma agreed. ‘So like each other, and yet so different. What are you going to do with them?’
Aulf shook his head, perplexed. ‘I don’t know. With things the way they are between the islands at the moment, two strangers aren’t going to find a very warm welcome. They don’t know anyone here. They’ve no friends or family.’
‘They’ve got us,’ Ma reminded him firmly. ‘And they are welcome here as long as they want to stay.’
Aulf looked relieved. ‘I was hoping you would say that, Ma.’ He put his arm around his mother and gave her an affectionate squeeze. ‘What would I do without you?’
‘Go hungry, for one,’ retorted his mother with good humour. ‘Now, don’t just sit there. Lend a hand clearing this table.’
Chapter 7
The following morning, Ma came down early to the pontoon with Aulf, before anyone else was even awake. He was keen to make up the time he had lost delivering the mail. He would be sailing alone on this trip. Ingar would remain on Jakir Chine with the twins, and help them settle in.
‘I’ll be back as soon as I can,’ Aulf promised, as he jumped on board the Aurora.
‘Just be careful,’ Ma warned him. ‘Those raiders are everywhere these days and I worry about you out on the ice.’
Aulf grinned at her. ‘They won’t catch us,’ he reassured her, patting the side of his beloved boat. ‘The Aurora’s the fastest boat anywhere on the ice. I look after her and she looks after me.’
Ma sighed. ‘You sound like your father.’
Aulf grinned again, yet beneath his confident facade, he too was troubled. Ma was right. Raiders were everywhere. Without Ingar on board to provide a second pair of sharp eyes, he would have to be extra vigilant on this journey.
‘Where will Aulf be sailing to?’ asked Elya later, as they ate breakfast together at the big table.
‘He’s got letters
from Spinnyridge and Orking Do to Quayven and Pelago,’ replied Ingar, ladling porridge into a bowl.
‘How many islands are there?’ Jacob asked.
‘Altogether?’ Ingar thought for a moment, then shook her head. ‘Hexult’s made up of lots of islands, all around the tip of the Vajra, the crevasse,’ she explained. ‘They’re divided into four cantons.’ She set the long bread knife in front of her on the table. ‘If this knife was the Vajra, Pelago would be here at this end of the chasm. That’s the first canton. It’s actually a large cluster of small islands. The next is Quayven. This island, Jakir Chine, is part of Quayven district, although Quayven Island, itself, is really quite big. Then there’s Orking Do.’ She pointed at the tip of the knife. ‘Orking Do sits right at the head of the crevasse. Beyond that is Spinnyridge, which is really two islands, side by side. Spinnyridge has caused a lot of trouble between the islands. All there really is there is mines. And huge gas furnaces. Nobody lives there except miners, but nobody seems able to decide whether it belongs to Orking Do or Thorland, so they’re forever fighting over it. And here, right round the other side of the crevasse, is Thorland.’
‘How far apart are all the islands?’ asked Jacob.
‘Pelago and Quayven are the closest,’ Ingar told him. ‘A fast boat, like Aulf’s, can do it in a day. Aulf can make Quayven to Orking Do in two days, but it’s more like three for most skiffs. Spinnyridge is another two day sail. I’m not sure of the distance to Thorland because I’ve never been there.’ She cast a quick glance at Ma. ‘Thorland and the other islands don’t get on, but I’ve seen it in the distance, so it can’t be that far.’