The Andor: Book One of the Legends of Tirmar

by Mark Dame

“Sure.”

  Geirr cleaned each tool then handed them to Flyn to hang on the wall. He was careful to make sure each went back in its proper place. He didn’t have to turn around to know his father was watching.

  “So, how was the water today?” his father asked while they worked.

  Flyn blushed. “How’d you know?”

  “You and Kel leave first thing in the morning and head away from town? There’s only one thing you’re doing on a day like today.” His father smiled at him.

  “Mom’s mad at me.”

  “She’s just worried about you, son.” He handed Flyn the last tool, a small hammer, then started wiping off his work bench with an old rag. “Mothers always worry. At least the good ones do. And you know you don’t make her life any easier by going out on that boat. We’ve had that conversation before.”

  “I know. I just don’t understand why it’s such a big deal anyway.”

  Geirr laughed and wiped his hands with the rag, then tossed it into a basket with the other dirty rags.

  “Yes, you do.” Geirr put his arm around Flyn’s shoulders and led him out of the barn. “You know the story about Andor the Great and the first people just like everyone else.”

  “But that’s just a myth.”

  “Myth or no, that’s just the way things are. If you’re going to be a rebel, you have to accept the consequences.”

  “But you don’t believe all that stuff, do you?”

  “About Andor the Great being God in human form and bringing the first people to Trygsted on boats? No, that’s just a fable invented to explain where people came from. But as for Vahul…”

  Geirr was quiet for a moment, then continued in a quieter voice. “Let’s just say I believe our souls go somewhere after we die, and whatever you call it—Vahul, or the Great Beyond, or something else—doesn’t matter. I believe it’s real. Now, whether or not souls reach it by crossing the ocean on a funeral boat is another story. I suppose I’ve always thought it was possible. After all, no one who has tried to find Vahul has ever come back, so who’s to say?”

  He turned his head to look at Flyn and smiled.

  “Besides, whether it’s true or not doesn’t make boats any less dangerous or change the way the rest of the clan looks at them.”

  “Well, it’s a stupid belief.”

  Geirr stopped walking and faced Flyn.

  “Son, don’t ever call someone’s beliefs stupid. Especially if you don’t have any proof they’re wrong.”

  “I’m sorry, Dad.” Flyn looked away, ashamed at his outburst. “I know. I just like the water. It’s relaxing and beautiful. I just wish I didn’t have to hide it. It’s not fair.”

  “Life’s not fair, Flyn. You’re old enough to know that.” He clapped Flyn on the shoulder. “Just remember this conversation when you’re a father and your son or daughter tells you life isn’t fair.”

  The idea of raising kids of his own was scarier than anything that could happen in the ocean, but he knew his father was right. Life was anything but fair. Sometimes the old man actually made sense.

  Dinner was already on the table when they walked in.

  “I sent you out to get your father twenty minutes ago,” his mother said, giving them both a disapproving look.

  “Sorry, Lene,” Geirr said. “It was my fault. I wanted to get all the tools put away before dinner.”

  “Well, don’t blame me if your food is cold. Now go wash up before you sit down at the table.”

  “Yes, Dear.” Geirr winked at Flyn before heading to the washroom.

  In spite of his mother’s warning about a cold dinner, everyone’s food was hot and delicious. Even Ty, a normally picky eater, cleaned his plate. Flyn and his father both had seconds of everything.

  Ty was still excited about the new invention. He explained everything to his mother in minute detail, describing how they had converted one of the well pumps for the job, and how they had made the part that attached to the cow out of old steel pipes that they bored out with the drill.

  “The problem is it needs to p–pulgate?” Ty looked to his father for help.

  “Pulsate.”

  “Yeah, pulsate! It needs to pulsate so it’s more like a baby cow.”

  Helene smiled and nodded, clearly not understanding half of what Ty was talking about, but feigning interest anyway. Flyn looked out the window to where the late afternoon sun reflected off the ocean in the distance. The water sparkled, diamonds in a sea of blue. No fields to plant, no cows to milk, no wood to gather. The sea was where he wanted to be.

  Why wasn’t his mother interested in his dreams? In what excited him?

  Flyn sighed to himself and turned back to his meal. One thing the sea didn’t have: roasted pork.

  Dinner conversation turned to the work that lay ahead. Only half the spring fields were sowed. With the cabbages and carrots planted, their next task would be planting potatoes. Flyn cared for farming about as much as he cared for inventing, but the discussion about the planting schedule seemed as good a time as any to bring up his planned trip.

  “When we’re done planting the potatoes, Kel and I are going to take a trip to Brekkness.” Brekkness was a wooded region on the other side of Trygsted.

  “For how long?” his father asked.

  “A couple of weeks. We’re going to hunt boar and deer.”

  “Just make sure you’re back in time to plant the corn and beans.” They planted corn and beans in the late spring. If things went according to schedule, they would have nearly a week to spare.

  “We will be.”

  “How are you planning on getting there?” his mother chimed in. He could tell from the way she looked at him that she was suspicious.

  “We’re going to hike.” Flyn didn’t like lying to his mother, but he didn’t want her worrying about him for two weeks.

  “Doesn’t Kel’s family have horses?” His mother, the practical one.

  “Sure, but we’d rather hike.”

  Flyn noticed his father had stopped eating and was sitting back in his chair, watching him with a raised eyebrow. He knew. Geirr and Helene exchanged a glance. She knew too.

  He never could sneak anything past her.

  “I still don’t know about this,” Kel said.

  The first potato field had been planted and Flyn was enjoying a day off before they started on the second one, the last of the early spring crops. He and Kel were in town to gather supplies for their upcoming trip. His mother had asked him to pick up a few things for her as well. Normally his father and Ty would have been with them, but they were busy working on the milking machine.

  They had walked to town with a small cart to carry their supplies. Even before noon, the spring sun was already hot and the young men were sweating from pulling the cart on the half a league trek from the Geirr farm. The heat promised another of the afternoon storms they had been seeing a lot of this spring.

  “It’ll be fun. When we get back, you’ll thank me.”

  “I doubt it.”

  Drogave was considered a mid-sized town, with stores that supplied all the general necessities for those living in the surrounding area. The local shops didn’t have the selection that was available in the larger towns, though most things could be ordered and shipped. For entertainment, the saloon had music and dancing most evenings. Occasionally a local group would use the saloon to put on a musical, but there was no formal theater.

  The Trygsted Messenger Service had a full-service office in town to send and receive correspondence from other towns. As the largest town in the area, Trygsted served as a hub for the smaller towns nearby. In addition to private messages, the office distributed news from other parts of the island. Flyn and Kel had stopped in to check for messages for their respective families and pick up the most recent news flyer.

  “Look, they’re having a spring festival in Osthorp in two weeks.” Flyn pointed to a notice on the flyer. “That’s right about when we’ll be there. We can stop for a couple of days and
go to the festival.”

  Kel glanced at the flyer. “We could get there faster by horse.”

  “Anybody can cross Trygsted by horse. Nobody has ever done it by boat.”

  “There’s a reason for that. And so what if we do? We won’t be able to tell anybody.”

  “We’ll know, and that’s all that matters. Besides, you already said you would go.”

  They stopped in front of the Drogave General Store.

  “I said I’d think about it. And I did. And I still think it’s too risky.”

  “Okay, just think about it some more. In the meantime, let’s just get what we need in case you decide to go.”

  Kel sighed. “Fine, but I doubt I’ll change my mind.”

  Kel shuffled through the door, his head down. Flyn grinned as he followed his friend into the store. Almost had him.

  In addition to salt, eggs, and thread for Flyn’s mother, he and Kel each picked up a pack and two waterskins, some rope, work gloves, and a bundle of arrows. Flyn found a fire-building kit with flint and steel and Kel found a hat with a wide brim to protect his face from the sun. It even had a string that went under the chin to keep the hat on his head in the wind. They planned on making bedrolls from old blankets and they would pack cured meat, wheat cakes, and fruits from their pantries at home. Flyn had a fishing pole he would bring to catch fish so they wouldn’t have to take food for the whole two weeks.

  Their shopping complete, they took the merchandise to the front of the store and laid everything on the counter. Pal Famsen, the store’s owner, stood up and crossed his arms, resting them on his large belly. With a round body and an equally round, bald head, he had always reminded Flyn of a snowman.

  “Good morning, Mr. Famsen,” Flyn said.

  “And where do you two think you’re going?” He frowned as he looked first at Flyn, then Kel.

  Kel was shifting nervously next to Flyn. “We’re going on a hunting trip next week when the planting is done.” It was always wise to mention that work came first when speaking to an elder.

  “That so?” Mr. Famsen eyed them for another moment, then started marking down their purchases on a receipt pad. “I’ve heard rumors about you.”

  Flyn and Kel glanced at each other.

  “You know what they say about rumors.” Flyn tried to laugh.

  Mr. Famsen stopped totaling their purchases and looked up at him. “And what would that be, Mr. Geirrsen?”

  Flyn felt a lump forming in his throat. He swallowed hard and tried to answer. What had Mr. Famsen heard? Had someone found out about his boat? What would they do to him? Surely that couldn’t be it. They had been careful not to let anyone see them.

  “That, uh, rumors are like weeds?” Flyn said, his voice dry and weak.

  The shopkeeper threw his head back and roared with laughter. Flyn managed a weak smile, his heart pounding in his chest. Kel just stood next to him, trembling. Mr. Famsen shook his head and wiped the tears from his cheeks. His face was bright red from his laughing fit.

  “That they do, Mr. Geirrsen, that they do,” he said, finally catching his breath. He went back to recording their purchases. “I hear a lot of rumors. Don’t generally give them much heed.” He finished the receipt and handed it to Flyn, who in turn handed him the money for the goods.

  Mr. Famsen leaned closer to the young men, resting his arms on the counter.

  “Still, there’s some talk going around about you two.” He looked around, then continued in a quieter voice so only they could hear him. “They say you have a boat and you’ve been out on the ocean.”

  The old man paused.

  “Based on Mr. Walensen’s reaction here, I would say there’s more to this rumor than a weed.”

  Flyn didn’t know what to say. Banished at his age, he would never have a family. He would spend the rest of his life alone. Probably turn into one of those crazy hermits they would sometimes see on the beach talking to seashells.

  “Don’t worry, son. Your secret’s safe with me. In addition to rumors, I hear a lot of secrets. I wouldn’t be very good at my job if I didn’t. But I make a point of keeping another man’s business to myself. Not that I approve of what you’re doing, mind you, but I won’t be spreading it around. I would suggest you consider reevaluating your choices though. Your poor mother would be devastated if anything should happen to you. And you father won’t be selling no more water pump systems if his son is banished for heresy.”

  The old man stood up and smiled, the firmness melting away, leaving the jolly shopkeeper Flyn had known his whole life.

  “Good luck on your hunting trip, boys. Stay out of trouble.”

  “Thank you, sir. We will.” Flyn picked up the package of goods and pushed Kel toward the door.

  Once outside, Kel grabbed Flyn’s shirt with both hands.

  “He knows! Everybody knows! What are we going to do?”

  “Calm down, Kel.” Flyn pulled away from Kel’s grasp.

  “But they know!”

  “Nobody knows anything. It’s just a rumor. Come on, people are starting to stare.” He started down the road, pulling Kel after him.

  Flyn’s mind raced, trying to put together what they had just learned. For rumors to be spreading, someone must have seen them with the boat. But if someone had seen them, they would be hearing more than rumors. Which meant that there was no proof yet, just speculation.

  But who? Certainly his parents wouldn’t say anything. And Ty didn’t know about the boat, did he? No, Flyn had been very careful about that. And no one in Kel’s family knew. Kel was far too paranoid to let any of them know about it. And they hadn’t told any of their other friends.

  He supposed it didn’t really matter who had seen them. That someone had was enough. The important question was what to do about it. He had an idea.

  “Where are we going?” Kel asked after they had walked for a few minutes.

  “The blacksmith.”

  “What for?”

  “I need a new knife for the trip.”

  “What do you mean? You can’t seriously be thinking about still going?”

  “I’m very serious.”

  “After what Mr. Famsen just told us? You’re crazy!”

  “Actually, I’m not.” Flyn stopped and pulled Kel to the side of the road. “I’ve been thinking about what Mr. Famsen said and that’s exactly why I’m still going.”

  Kel just stared at him in disbelief.

  “Look, let’s just say someone saw us with the boat. I don’t know who, but it was probably a kid. If an adult had seen us, there would be a lot more than rumors going around. So this kid tells his parents and now people are spreading rumors about us and the boat. You know how it’ll go. The rumor will keep spreading and pretty soon people will start looking out for us, trying to catch us.”

  “Exactly! Which is why we can’t go.” Kel held his hands up and shook them at Flyn to emphasize his words.

  “Quiet down or somebody will hear you.” Flyn glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention to them. “Now let me finish. Suppose the rumors get to that point. People will start looking for the boat. If they find it, they may or may not be able to prove it’s ours.”

  “You mean yours,” Kel interrupted.

  “Whatever. The point is even if they can’t prove it, the rumors will get worse. The result will be the same. We’ll be publicly humiliated and eventually driven out of town. Which means the only thing we can do is get rid of it so no one finds it.”

  “Yes, exactly.” Kel nodded in agreement.

  “So that means we need to make this trip more than ever because it’ll be the last time we get to use the boat.”

  Kel put his hands on his head. “You’ve lost your mind. If people are looking, we’ll get caught for sure. Then it won’t be a rumor anymore.” He shook his head. “No way. It’s a really bad idea.”

  “But don’t you see? We won’t get caught. Listen, it’s perfect. Next weekend, the day after the planting’s done, we’l
l leave early in the morning, before sunrise. We’ll be gone before anybody sees us. We’ll head north to take advantage of the currents, just like we planned. Except instead of going all the way around, we’ll stop near Osthorp and destroy the boat there. Then we’ll hike back. We can even go to the festival like normal travelers. When people see us walking back, they’ll all assume we did exactly what we’re telling everybody we’re going to do. There’ll be no boat to find.”

  “You really have lost your mind, Flynygyn.”

  “No, it’s perfect. Even the remains will be all the way on the other side of Trygsted.”

  Kel just stared at Flyn, eyes wide.

  “Admit it, it’s a good plan.”

  “Okay, I can see how that might work,” Kel said after thinking for a minute. “But what if someone sees us from the shore while we’re paddling around the island?”

  “That’s why we need to leave before dawn. We’ll head straight out so we’re too far for anyone to see us, then turn north and follow the coastline. Once we get a few leagues north of Drogave, anyone who sees us won’t recognize us anyway.”

  Kel thought for a few more minutes before answering. “Okay, I’ll go. But only if you promise we’ll destroy the boat and walk home, like you said.”

  “Absolutely. That’s the key to making the plan work. If anybody found the remains around here, it would raise too much suspicion.”

  “You know, if I die, I’ll haunt you forever.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic. You’re not going to die. The worst thing that will happen is you’ll get a little sunburned.”

  Kel smiled for the first time since leaving the general store. “I think the best part is that we’ll be rid of the boat for good.”

  Flyn looked away to the west, toward the ocean. “For you, maybe.”

  For Flyn, destroying his boat was far from the best thing about the plan.

  Chapter 2

  The day of their departure came eight days later. They had nearly three full weeks until the late spring planting started. By Flyn’s calculations, plenty of time to make the almost sixty-league journey to Osthorp by boat, then the thirty-league trek home on foot. He even planned a one-day stop for the spring festival, which would give them a bit of a rest between legs.