“No,” sniffed MistyTrail as she clung to Mistake. “We are not going back to the Sakova.”
“We aren’t?” Mistake asked in surprise. “Where are we going?”
“I spent days in prayer to Kaltara after our meeting in the Garden of Hope,” stated MistyTrail. “He made me see things differently. If both you and I survived that great storm, maybe other members of our family did as well. We shall go in search of them.”
“Other members?” questioned Mistake. “What other members? Where will we look?”
“I do not know what other family we might have,” MistyTrail said as she finally broke the embrace, “but we must search for them. What else could we do together? You will not feel at home in the Sakova, and I do not belong in Fakara. We are finally together. What difference does it matter where we look?”
“Well we must start somewhere,” shrugged Mistake as she wiped her eyes.
“I doubt there are any more family members around here,” offered Temiker. “I remember that great storm. There were many fishermen lost at sea. The Omungans had runners up and down the coast looking for survivors that might have washed ashore some place other than where they left from. I think I would have heard about it.”
“Did you hear about MistyTrail?” questioned Mistake.
“I did,” nodded Temiker. “The Sakovans brought the fisherman’s body to Alamar. They asked about the child.”
“Then we will search in Fakara,” decided Mistake.
“Your search will be fruitless,” sighed Temiker. “Praise Kaltara that you have found each other after all these years. Let that be enough.”
“No,” MistyTrail replied. “I know that Kaltara wants us to search together. If we must start in Fakara, then that is what we will do. We shall never be separated again.”
“How will you get to Fakara?” asked Temiker. “The coastline north of Alamar is impassable. The Wall of Mermidion seals off the city of Duran, and the Wound of Kaltara is not crossable. You would have to return to the Sakova just to get to Khadora.”
“We are not returning to the Sakova,” MistyTrail said adamantly. “We will take the Omungan road to Khadora.”
“The Omungan road?” Temiker echoed with disbelief. “That would take you forever if it were even possible. The Omungans are no longer talking friendly towards the Sakovans. Alamar is probably the only Omungan city where Sakovans are safe, and that is because of the food shipments. I worry that the situation will deteriorate even here.”
“He is right,” sighed MistyTrail. “The Omungans would kill us rather than let us pass by. I heard Lyra say that the new Katana has turned against the Sakovans. There must be another way.”
“Why not by boat?” asked Mistake. “Fakara is much closer to us by water than by land. It would hardly take any time at all.”
“Where would we get a boat?” inquired MistyTrail. “I have some gold with me, but probably not enough to buy a boat.”
“I can get you all the gold you will ever want when we get to Fakara,” brightened Mistake as her eyes flushed with excitement. “I will take you to the lost city of Angragar.”
“I might know where you can get a boat,” smiled Temiker, his eyes twinkling with delight. “When my old schoolhouse burned down, and I was forced to flee Alamar, I made a deal with a fisherman south of the city. I promised that I would return one day with a new boat for him. That boat is being made right here in Alamar. I will check to see if it is done.”
“But that would mean that you have not kept your promise to the fisherman,” protested MistyTrail.
“Not at all,” replied Temiker. “I was thinking that he would have no use for his old boat when I deliver the new one. I am sure that he will be so happy with the new boat that he will give you the old one.”
“That is great!” exclaimed Mistake. “Fakara here we come.”
“Do either of you know how to sail?” asked Temiker as his brow creased with concern.
“Of course,” boasted Mistake. “I grew up as the daughter of a fisherman. I am a natural sailor.”
“Then let me check on the status of the boat,” smiled Temiker. “Get MistyTrail some hot food. I will be back shortly.”
Mistake went into the kitchen and got a bowl of stew and a chunk of bread for MistyTrail. She paused in the doorway of the dining room and stared at MistyTrail sitting at the table. Mistake grinned broadly, and her face glowed as she thought about the upcoming trip. She cheerfully walked to the table and placed the food in front of MistyTrail.
“We are going to have so much fun,” Mistake said with glee. “I cannot believe that you are coming with me.”
“I cannot believe it myself,” smiled MistyTrail. “I have never thought about life outside the Sakova. I hope that I don’t disappoint you.”
“Bah,” Mistake said dismissively. “You could never disappoint me. Wait until you see Angragar. You cannot imagine how much gold is there.”
“How can we just take it?” questioned MistyTrail. “Doesn’t it belong to someone?”
“It belongs to the Astor,” nodded Mistake, “but Rejji lets me do whatever I want. We are very good friends. You will like him.”
MistyTrail ate pensively as they waited for the mage to return. She had just finished her stew when Temiker strode into the room.
“The new boat has already been finished,” he grinned. “They had expected me to come calling days ago. What fortuitous timing. You can leave whatever day you want to.”
“I see no reason to delay,” shrugged MistyTrail. “I worry about relations with the Omungans. I would just as soon be on our way than stay in Alamar.”
“It is already midday,” frowned Temiker. “Why not start fresh in the morning?”
“You heard MistyTrail,” replied Mistake. “She wants to leave today, and we shall. Where do we go?”
Temiker shook his head and stared at the two young women. “Alright,” he sighed. “We must go to the shipyard. One of their men will sail the boat down to the village. One of you will go with him. The other one of you and myself will borrow two horses from them and ride to the village. That way the sailor will have a horse to ride back to Alamar with me.”
“I guess I better grab my things,” Mistake announced with an air of excitement. “I will meet you outside the school.”
“Out back,” Temiker called to Mistake as she raced out of the room. “It will be closer to the shipyard.”
MistyTrail rose and picked up her pack. She looked briefly at Temiker before hugging him.
“Thank you for you help,” she smiled.
“Are you going to be alright?” Temiker asked in a fatherly fashion. “Mistake can be headstrong at times.”
“I will be fine,” MistyTrail smiled weakly. “Mistake is no more headstrong than I am. If she thinks she can boss me around, she has yet to learn who she is dealing with.”
“That’s the spirit,” grinned Temiker as he led MistyTrail out the back door of the schoolhouse.
Mistake exited the building a moment later and the three of them walked to the small shipyard. Temiker entered the small shack alone and emerged a moment later with a large heavyset man. The man shouted and waved a worker to come to him.
“This is Fuster,” announced the heavyset man. “He will take the boat to the village for you. One of the women will have to go with him. I only have two horses to lend to you.”
“That will be Mistake,” nodded Temiker. “MistyTrail and I will ride the horses.”
“You might as well start now then,” the man said. “Fuster will waste no time getting to the village. Bring him back quickly. He has more work to do today.”
Temiker nodded and led MistyTrail towards the two horses tied to a post near the shack. Fuster nodded silently to Mistake and turned towards the docks. Mistake hurried along behind him. Fuster pointed to a new boat and told Mistake to get in. She jumped into the boat and Fuster frowned.
“Be careful with it,” admonished Fuster. “I intend to deliver a ne
w boat, not one with nicks in it.”
“Sorry,” Mistake replied sheepishly as she sat on the small seat in the bow.
Fuster nodded as a father would when a child had done something foolish. He stepped into the boat and unhitched the mooring lines. With a mighty shove, he pushed the boat away from the dock and immediately began to hoist the sail.
“Good winds to the northeast today,” he said as he sat down in the stern and grabbed the tiller. “Getting out of the harbor will be quick and easy.”
“Northeast is where Fakara is, isn’t it?” asked Mistake as she clung tightly to the rails of the boat.
Fuster looked at her and frowned for a moment. “Aye, it is northeast,” he finally answered, “but a good long ways from here. Only a fool would take a craft like this that far. The sea can get downright nasty out there. You don’t know much about sailing do you?”
“Oh, I know a lot,” nodded Mistake. “My father was a fisherman in Fakara. He had a boat much like this one. It was not new of course.”
“Then why are ya gripping the rails?” asked Fuster humorously. “Relax lass. I will get you to the village with no harm done.”
Mistake gazed up at the sails as Fuster guided the boat out of the harbor. She studied the lines and how Fuster had tied them off.
“What happens when the wind is blowing the wrong direction?” asked Mistake. “How can you get to where you want to go?”
“You always have to have wind in your sails,” Fuster smiled when Mistake showed an interest in his craft. “It doesn’t always have to be behind you, though. Watch the sails as I turn to parallel the coast.”
Mistake watched as Fuster trimmed the sails and began paralleling the coastline.
“There are a wide range of courses one can set for any wind,” instructed Fuster. “The worst is trying to sail into the wind. You just can’t do it directly. What you must do in that case is tack at sharp angles to your destination. In effect, you zigzag closer to your destination without heading directly into the wind. You will see me do this as we approach the village.”
“And what if there is not wind at all,” inquired Mistake.
“Ah,” sighed Fuster. “A sail is of no use without wind. That is why there are oars onboard,” he added as he pointed to two new shiny oars strapped to the side of the boat. “Rowing is good exercise, but a sail is what make travel possible. It would take me all day to row to this village.”
Mistake nodded absently and gazed at the passing coast. She watched as the city of Alamar passed by and faded towards the horizon. As Fuster began to change directions, she turned and gazed forward. A small fishing village approached and she saw two riders on the beach heading towards it.
“They are going to beat us there,” quipped Mistake.
“Not by a long shot,” chuckled Fuster as the boat suddenly lurched and changed directions.
Mistake watched as Fuster’s sinewy arm fought with the tiller. The sailor had a grin on his face as he devoted all of his attention to coaxing as much speed out of the wind as he could. When the boat slid onto the small beach, Temiker and MistyTrail were just entering the village.
“We won,” grinned Fuster as he hopped out of the boat. “Nothing beats a boat for getting around.”
Temiker dismounted and walked towards a local fisherman that was working on his boat. Fuster went and held the reins for the horses while the magician spoke to the fisherman. Mistake and MistyTrail gathered around the mage to hear what he would say.
“You are not at sea today, Gerock,” Temiker said.
The fisherman turned to look at Temiker and his face paled. “You are dead,” Gerock said as his eyes opened wide with fear.
“Hardly,” chuckled Temiker. “I made a promise to you a long time ago. I have come to keep my word.”
“But I saw you die,” protested the fisherman. “I came back without you.”
Temiker stepped closer and placed his hand on the man’s temple. Gerock trembled in fear as the mage cast a spell. Within seconds it was over, and Temiker stepped back a pace. Gerock looked confused as he gazed at Temiker and then glanced up the beach at the new boat.
“That is truly mine?” Gerock suddenly smiled. “How did you do that?”
“It is magic,” shrugged Temiker as he smiled at the fisherman. “I did tell you that I was a mage.”
“You did at that,” laughed Gerock. “I truly believed that you were dead. What of the men chasing you?”
“They are all dead,” Temiker reported. “They were a bunch of hired assassins trying to use me in some diabolical political plot. They failed.”
“Well I am glad that they did,” smiled Gerock. “They did come for the horse, you know.”
“Did they harm you?” asked Temiker.
“No,” Gerock shook his head. “They threatened to, but I convinced them that you were lost at sea. I truly believed that you had.”
“Then all worked out as it was supposed to,” sighed Temiker. “Why are you not fishing today? I thought we would have to wait for you to come in from the sea.”
“Well,” grinned Gerock, “your timing could not be better. My old boat is not what it used to be. I spend more time repairing it these days then I do fishing. It has a leak along the keel that I cannot seal.”
“Would you sell it?” asked MistyTrail.
Gerock seemed to notice the two small women for the first time. He looked from one to the other and then his eyes rested on Temiker.
“I take it that the women are with you, Temiker,” Gerock said. “The old boat is of no use to me. If you wish them to have it, you have my blessing to give it to them. I am not sure what use they can make of it.”
“Go and inspect your new boat, Gerock,” smiled Temiker. “I will see what I can do with your old boat to make it worthy for these women.”
Gerock nodded enthusiastically and ran along the beach to view his new boat. Temiker knelt in the sand and bowed his head over the rail of the old boat. He closed his eyes and began chanting under his breath. As he chanted, his hands ran over the boards inside the boat. Several minutes later, he opened his eyes and stood up.
“The boat will no longer leak,” he announced.
“What did you do?” asked Mistake.
“I caused the boards to swell until they were tight as new,” shrugged the magician. “The boat is just old, not unusable. Are you sure this is a good idea, Mistake?”
“Certainly,” Mistake replied with enthusiasm. “I learned a lot more from Fuster on the way down here. I know all about tacking now.”
“Then I wish you a safe journey,” sighed Temiker. “Should you change your mind, I always will have a place for the two of you. I will protect you from the Omungans and keep you safe.”
“We must do what we have planned to do,” MistyTrail shook her head. “Say goodbye to HawkShadow for me when you see him. I did not have a chance to do so myself.”
“That I shall do,” promised Temiker as he turned and walked towards Fuster.
Mistake watched Temiker and Fuster turn and ride out of the village. She threw her pack into the boat and encouraged MistyTrail to do the same. Gerock dragged his new boat through the surf until it rested next to his old one.
“So you are going to be sailors?” smiled Gerock. “Do you plan to fish? Don’t know of too many female fishermen.”
“The boat is for our poor villagers,” Mistake replied. “They don’t have any boat at all. This will be quite a surprise for them.”
“No boat at all?” frowned Gerock. “I knew times were tough, but a village without a single boat is a sad thing indeed. Had I known, I would have been tempted to give it to you even without the new boat from Temiker. How will you get it there?”
“We will sail it there,” boasted Mistake. “We are going to leave now. Would you be so kind as to push us through the surf?”
“With pleasure,” nodded Gerock as he placed his hands on the bow of the boat. “Get in.”
Mistake and MistyTrail
climbed into the boat. Gerock grunted as he shoved the boat off the sand beach. He waded into the water waist deep before turning the boat around.
“Hoist the sail,” ordered Gerock. “There is a good breeze to take you offshore.”
Mistake grabbed a line and pulled the sail upward. She tied off the line as Fuster had done when they had left port in Alamar. Gerock pushed hard on the boat until he was chest deep in water. With a final push, he raised his arm high and waved goodbye. Mistake crouched in the stern of the boat and grabbed the tiller. It took her some time to steady the boat on a northeast course.
“There are not any seats in this old boat,” complained MistyTrail as she sat on the floor. “How long will this trip take?”
“I don’t know,” shrugged Mistake as she looked down and saw an overturned bucket.
She sat on the bucket and turned to watch the shoreline receding.
“We are making good speed,” Mistake commented. “You keep an eye out for land in front of us.”
“I don’t think we will see it just yet,” replied MistyTrail. “I have seen a map before, and I think Fakara is a long ways off.”
“But we are moving quickly,” countered Mistake as she watched the sail fill with wind. “I bet we will be there before we know it.”
Chapter 7
Emperor Vand
Marak heard soft voices not too far away. He opened his eyes and stared into the darkness. As he turned his head to the side, he saw that he was in the entry foyer of the old temple. Two figures sat outside the doorway around a fire. He sat up and stretched, feeling slightly sore all over. With a yawn, Marak rose and stepped out the door. Ukaro and Tmundo immediately turned to stare at him.
“I feel like I have slept for hours,” remarked Marak as he walked down the stairs and sat on a log near the fire. “Is that tea?”
Ukaro nodded and poured him a cup. “You had me worried, son,” Ukaro said as he handed the cup to Marak. “What happened in there?”
“I guess I fell asleep,” shrugged Marak. “I had such strange dreams. Why are you here, Tmundo?”
“I became concerned when you did not return,” answered the Kywara leader. “I felt that I should travel here to find if anything was wrong.”
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