by Doug Kelly
“I found it, and I’m never going back.”
“Are you injured?”
“I’m hungry more than anything else.”
“Come inside. I have fresh bread, and I’m cooking barley stew.”
Hauk extended his hand toward the open doorway to invite Aton into the home. Aton followed the scent of freshly cooked bread into the house. On the wall opposite the front door was a large fireplace with a wide stone hearth on the floor. Next to the hearth was an unusually long table made of hewn planks, its top worn smooth with frequent use, and upon which Hauk served meals, and his master conducted business meetings. Wooden benches were on either side of the table. Hauk’s master had no family, so a table of this size would have only served to comfortably accommodate other merchants, sometimes numerous men of commerce at one sitting, for meetings during a meal. Flat stonework in the fireplace was where the bread had cooked. Suspended with chains over the flames was a metal pot that held the barley stew. Inside the fireplace, masonry workers had attached a metal hinge to the wall from which the pivoting rod suspended the chains that held the cooking pot over the fire. Hauk used a wrought iron poker to pull the horizontal metal rod away from the crackling flames. It swiveled on its hinge and the pot of hot barley stew came out of the fireplace. Drool leaked from the corners of Aton’s mouth.
“Take a seat, my friend,” said Hauk. “We’ll break bread together.”
Aton eagerly complied, and watched Hauk with impatient and hungry eyes as the slave soldier sheathed his heavy sword and leaned it into a corner of the room.
An excellent blacksmith had skillfully made the weapon. The steel was the best money could buy. It had come from the suspension of a car that so very long ago had just returned from a family vacation to see the ocean, while they had stayed at a beach resort on the Gulf Coast. The tsunami that followed the asteroid impact had carried the car far away before it found its final resting place with other refuse that the massive deluge of water had carried inland. Countless years later, scavengers had found the car’s remains and the best metal was stripped away for weapons. The Americans made the finest steel because it was strong and flexible. The clansmen did not understand metallurgy and alloy composition. The best they could create was iron, but it was no match for American steel. The sword stood at attention in the dark corner like an obedient soldier.
“Here,” said Hauk as he put the loaf of warm bread on the table in front of Aton. He sliced it in half with a bone-handled knife.
Aton attacked the bread with his fingers. He chewed it savagely, and thought that it was the best sourdough bread he had ever eaten. Then Hauk put a ceramic bowl of stew in front of his guest. Aton dipped the bread into the bowl and savored every soggy bite. The stew was steaming hot, but he did not care. Savage hunger clouded his better judgment as he plunged his wooden spoon into the bowl and shoveled the hot food into his mouth. The hot stew burned his tongue, but he could not stop eating because he was so hungry. Between bites, he sipped cool water from an earthenware cup to keep the heat at bay. When he finished, he wiped his dirty forearm across his face and belched loudly.
“So my cooking has your approval?”
“I can’t thank you enough.”
“Tell me, friend,” said Hauk, as he reached across the table and grabbed Aton’s forearm, “were you at the town of Kern?”
“Yes,” Aton replied dejectedly.
“Have they retreated behind the walls yet?”
“Yes. They’ve retreated, but Grinald didn’t launch a final attack. He seems to just circle the city and taunt them. That’s no strategy. It’s an insult to everyone that lost their lives to ensure his victory.”
“You don’t understand his tactics. He outnumbers his opponents, but if he annihilates them, he won’t have anyone else to fight. He’ll skirmish, plunder, and then leave. He’ll do just enough damage so that surrounding clans understand his power, and to create a common enemy, a threat his allies can rally around. For him, there is profit in war, but for me, there is certain death. I must go to the walls of Kern and meet my master at the city under siege. Because of my injury, I’m no good for battle. I fear that I’ll be sent to my death behind those walls.” Hauk looked at his sword leaning in the corner. It resembled a good friend that had heard his confession of fear, but he got no sympathy from the metal soldier still standing patiently at attention in the dark corner of the room.
“Don’t go. Heed your own warning to me.”
“I have no choice,” admitted Hauk, as he rubbed the scars on his wrists.
“Leave with me. Turn your back on this place and go.”
Hauk shook his head. “It would be a certain death for me. There’s a price on the head of escaped slaves. If I take to the road with you, I’ll always live in fear of capture. That’s no life. I might as well face my fate in battle and just be done with it.” Hauk scoffed at his own words as he turned toward the fire.
“Don’t worry about the roads. We just have to make it out of town. Across the channel, I have a boat. You can escape and sail away with me.”
“Escape,” whispered Hauk. The thought, just the mention of the word, was so unnatural to him that muttering it was like choking on poison.
“Yes, escape. We should leave while the streets are still clear.”
“But where would we go?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“Away. We’ll go away. That’s all that matters right now.”
“Yes. That’s what I’ll do.” Hauk closed his eyes and lowered his head. “Freedom.”
“Let’s hurry.” Aton slapped his new friend’s arm and they both stood. “Provisions. We need food.”
Hauk found an expensive crocheted tablecloth in one of his master’s storage trunks and spread it on the floor. They put dried food on the fabric and brought the four corners together to carry the provisions like a sack. Aton slung the folded tablecloth over his back, Hauk got his sword, and they went out the door. After only taking a few strides away from the porch, the mangy black dog that Aton had shooed away reappeared from the alley between the home Hauk lived in and that of his neighbor. Grungy and hungry, it whimpered for their sympathy. Apparently it had smelled the food, the same as Aton had while walking down the street in search of Hauk, and the scent had attracted it to the open doorway. Hauk’s face transformed with a devious expression. He handed Aton the sword and told him to wait where he stood. Back at the doorway, Hauk called for the sick dog. Thinking of food and not concerned with the dangers of a strange man, the dog cowered its way inside. Hauk gave it small scraps of food, leading the stray dog to his master’s bedroom. There, he poured the pot of stew onto the bed and the dog quickly lapped up the mess. After filling its belly, the dog curled on the bed, closed its eyes, and went to sleep. Hauk snickered at what he had just done. Returning to the street, he told Aton that his last gift to his master was to infest his home with fleas and lice. They laughed on the way to the channel.
Upon arriving at the waterway, Aton noticed the same stout women at her ferry who had brought him from the opposite shore. The duo approached the woman as she daydreamed, watching twilight’s approach on the horizon. Business was sparse in the deserted town. As she stood on the shore near the boat, she had bent her head to admire her new necklace in the light of the setting sun. The silver coin that Aton had recently given her had purchased the alligator-claw necklace and a lot more superstitious curios, which she had kept at home. Three curved claws hung low on her chest on a string made from cat intestine.
“Woman!” yelled Aton.
She pivoted toward them and leaned on her pole for balance. “Eh?” In a short moment, her old eyes focused, and she recognized Aton. “Oh, I remember you.” A smile came to her face and her hand went to the necklace again. “Look what I have now. It frightens away evil spirits and brings strength and good luck to its owner.”
“Let’s put your strength to a test and see how fast you can pole us to the other side,” s
aid Aton.
“Both of you, eh?”
“Yes, before the sun gets any lower. The sooner we leave the better it’ll be for all of us.”
She turned her curious eyes toward Hauk, but spoke to Aton. “Your friend there…I’ve seen him before…Oh, yes…I remember now, he frequents the docks with a wealthy merchant.” Her questioning eyes lowered to Hauk’s wrists and she noticed the scars of bondage. She shook her head. “If I get caught helping a slave escape the city, not even this charmed necklace could help me.”
Hauk removed the silver coin from his pocket that Aton had given him on the first day they met. He flashed it in the evening sun. It was like raw meat to a dog.
“Well, the guards are coming back any time, so we should hurry. Come on, come on, let’s get going.” She hit the ferryboat with her pole and waved them toward her vessel while she stood back out of their way so they could quickly get onboard. Hauk tossed her the little silver coin, and she caught it quicker than a striking snake. They boarded the craft, and she groaned as she pushed the ferry away from the shore. Aton laughed to himself, because apparently, the necklace had not seemed to bring her any additional strength. She beached the boat on the opposite side of the channel, and the two men jumped out.
“Are you coming back anytime soon?” she asked as she rubbed the silver coin between two greedy fingers.
Aton and Hauk looked at each other, and simultaneously said, “Never!”
“If anybody asks, I’ll say that I never saw you.” She waved and then caressed her lucky necklace. “May the gods be with you.”
“And you,” replied Hauk.
They turned away and went in the direction of the hidden boat, Aton at the lead. The sun temple on the slope of the hill was a landmark by which he easily remembered the direction of the spot where he had hidden his vessel. As Aton led the way, he felt unable to push through the belt of brushwood, reeds, and shrubbery beside the shore, and went through the trees instead. He followed a cattle path, which led to another grazing field. This path ran parallel with the shore. When he judged himself in line with his boat, they left the trail, and entered the woods. Hauk was close behind. For a little way they could walk, but the thick branches soon blocked their progress, and they could only continue on hands and knees. There was a hollow space under the lower branches that was free from brushwood. They crawled on all fours. As they slinked through the undergrowth, Aton awkwardly dragged the tablecloth that he had folded to use as a sack, which carried food for their journey. The fine crochet work occasionally snagged on the fallen twigs and branches, hindering their progress, which was slow enough already. The thought of the quiet secluded area that hid his boat motivated him to continue; the end of the jaunt was near. Peacefulness waited ahead.
They did not speak as they groaned and grunted under the branches and through the bushes. In the reprieve from conversation, Hauk had an internal debate with his conscience. Part of him thought what he was doing was wrong. He was leaving his master, something absolutely forbidden. Another part of his mind countered his mental deliberation by resolving that his life was worth something, that he was a human and all people should treat him with dignity and respect. A melancholy feeling had grabbed his heart and it felt like a chain was pulling him back, or at the least halting his progress. It was a strange feeling to miss the man who had controlled his oppression, and the city that had confined him to perpetual servitude.
Just as Aton broke through the last bush, the evening sun was descending toward the distant horizon, erupting in brilliant red light, which reflected off the surface of the lake, like fire. The glorious sunshine evaporated the melancholy that had shrouded Hauk’s soul. The shackle of guilt that had tugged his heart, and the imaginary chain of sadness that had tried to pull him back, snapped and disappeared behind the bush through which Hauk had just emerged. He was free. After standing and brushing the leaf litter from his clothes, Hauk took in the glorious scenery that surrounded them and inhaled a deep breath of fresh lake air. In his mind, he declared himself a free man and encouraged Aton, with a quick shove using his palm, to continue leading the way.
After some more weary work crawling through thorn bushes and thick weeds, they finally approached the lake and descended the hill. Aton knew that they were close to the boat because he recognized the nearby island. He found his vessel almost undisturbed. Nearly the same as he had left it, except that the breeze had scattered the dry reeds, and a creature from the forest, most likely a raccoon or an opossum, had found his original stash of food and had eaten it. The prize coin purse was still there. Samaras that had whirled from the branches of a large maple tree covered the boat like a blanket. Throwing themselves on the reeds beside the boat, they fell asleep, or more accurately, collapsed from fatigue. They lay there as if an evil spirit had struck them unconscious with a mysterious spell.
They woke a short time later, after the sun had sunk below the horizon, hungry, but refreshed. They ate some of the supplies they had carried with them, and that made them feel better. Aton felt pleased to be beside his boat. He could hardly believe the reality of the hideous dream through which he had passed, but when he tried to stand, his feet, cut and blistered, painfully assured him of its authenticity. He took out his hunter's hide and cloak and spread them smooth to make comfortable beds for each of them. Aton reclined in a semi-unconscious state, his body slowly recovering from the strain it had endured, until gradually, he fell asleep again. Nothing but restful sleep restored the overtaxed mind and body. Hauk finally relaxed and went to sleep, for the first night in his life as a free man.
CHAPTER THREE
The sun was up when Aton woke. As he raised himself, the beauty of the lake and the freedom it represented filled him with happiness. The serenity of this location was a sharp contrast to the brutality and carnage from which Aton had recently fled, and into which Hauk had almost gone. Hauk woke soon after and was ready to leave this place. They had escaped, and since they were no longer under the control of tyrants, considered themselves sovereign men, ready to accept a destiny conceived with their own freewill.
By the shore, it was so calm that the image of nearby trees reflected perfectly on the water, and the few willow leaves that had fallen floated delicately where they landed. Farther out, the morning sunlight illuminated the islands with a soft red glow. The swallows skimmed the water, following the outline of the shore, snatching mosquitoes from the air as they flew along the edge of the lake in search of food. Across this vast body of water, through the channels or passages between the islands, Aton could see ripples where the faint southwestern breeze touched the surface of the lake. His mind went out to the splendor of it. He did not question or analyze his feelings because this was no time for philosophical reflections. It was time to leave. After pushing the boat into the water, they went aboard, ready to vacate this cruel and oppressive land for the loveliness of the lake.
“Can you swim?” asked Aton.
“Yes, I can swim,” Hauk replied, as he rubbed his sore shoulder and tested his arm’s range of motion. “On hot days when I helped my master move his ships’ cargo at the docks, I jumped into the water to cool down and swam until he made me go home. So, don’t worry about me. My shoulder is getting better and I could stay afloat. Should I be afraid of your boat?”
“If she was going to sink, she would have done it by now. I caulked the seams with a thick coat of pine tar and bee’s wax, so I’m not worried.”
Hauk put his hand to his eyes for shade and absorbed the scenery. “Where are we headed?”
“Through the channels, beyond the islands, and onto the open water.”
Using the oars, they pushed away from the shallow muddy shore and did not look back. Aton rowed to get beyond the islands; they passed between them, and reached the open lake. They hoisted the sail, the gentle breeze filled it, the boat began to divide the ripples, a bubbling sound arose, and steering due north, straight out to the open and boundless expanse, the wind carried them swiftl
y away.
A group of ducks saw the boat coming toward them, but the birds scarcely moved, never thinking that a vessel would venture very far outside the islands. They were accustomed to seeing watercraft, but when the boat continued to advance upon them, they flew up and descended far away. When they sailed past the spot where those ducks had floated, the lake was their own. On the shores of the islands, the crows came down for mussels. Seagulls floated in and out among the reeds, water rats nibbled at snails, sunfish basked at the edge of the weeds, kingfishers hunted along the sand, and a stealthy raccoon was out searching for crayfish. Without the line of the shoals and islands, now that the ducks had flown, there was a solitude of water. Here, it was too deep for the longest weeds. Nothing seemed to exist in the depths that surrounded them.
The boat moved more rapidly as the wind came with its full force over the distant tree canopy that covered the rolling hills, and although it was a light southerly breeze, the broad sail impelled the vessel swiftly. Hauk sat near the front, and occasionally put his hand into the muddy lake to feel the cool water, which was the expanding buffer between him and his previous life. He could feel his freedom grow in proportion to the expanding distance between him and city of Acadia.
Later in the day, Aton reclined at the rear of the boat, and his consciousness began to drift. He had closed his eyes. Although his eyes were asleep, he was aware of their vessel, the lake, the sunshine, and the sky. Physically awake, he mentally slumbered. It was rest. After the misery, exertion, and excitement of his last adventure, it was rest, intense rest, for body and mind. Only the pressure of the water against the handle of the rudder, the slight vibration of the wood as the bubbles beneath the lake’s surface rushed by, might have kept him from really falling asleep. He firmly grasped the tiller, and that effort restrained his drowsiness. Enough time had passed that the shore looked like a blue cloud in the distance because the heavy air, thick with humidity, had created haze that hid the forest, more than would have been the case in clearer weather. His head leaned forward and his eyes closed. Hauk had already fallen asleep to the monotonous tone of lapping wavelets kissing the hull.