Chapter 10 – Marooned
Both young men resisted the idea, even though everything inside of them told them to run. They just could not stomach the idea of leaving their mates behind, orders or no. In the end, they were forced to, knowing it was on the captain's orders. Their packs were already in the starboard rowboat, so they only needed to grab a few things in the crew's quarters. Mallen tossed in his pack as well, along with some water and food he was able to grab from the cook's stores. The boat was then lowered partway down the side to make launching quicker and hide it from the view of the approaching ship. Inside a half hour all was in readiness.
Despite searching high and low, there was no sign of Micah. The boy seemed to have disappeared. It was likely he had hidden himself somewhere on the ship out of fear; they searched as long as they dared while the pirates kept gaining ground. When it was clear he was not to be found, they had get ready to depart without him.
The Daemon was now within a couple hundred yards and looked to be getting ready to bring guns to bear. Report told the men to be ready to slack sails on his order and be ready to repel boarders. He walked to the port side stern railing and yelled across to the frigate. "All right, we are slacking sails now! We are prepared to be boarded!" He raised his hand and dropped it in a chopping motion. The riggers let loose the ropes and the sails dropped. In a matter of minutes, the Daemon was drawing along side. Hooks were thrown from the larger vessel, catching the rails and rigging and pulled taut, drawing the schooner close to the larger ship.
Report turned to his crew and shouted, "Prepare to be boarded!" At that prearranged signal, the deck guns shot their deadly missiles into the pirate crew and lit their firebombs and threw them onto the decks of the frigate. Great flames erupted on deck and men ran about yelling, trying to put the flames out. The pirates hit by the shrapnel were quickly removed from the fight and others took their place. Chaos reigned in the battle between the Daemon and the Braydon.
Brey and Nev had their swords drawn and waited side by side with their shipmates for the coming battle. Their hearts raced as they saw the pirates trying to get across.
Those who tried to board the Braydon first stepped on the wooden spikes and were quickly taken out by the defenders. The next wave used deck brooms to literally sweep aside the painful devices, while their comrades occupied the defenders closest to the rail. Once the deck was cleared of the stakes, over a dozen pirates flooded on to the deck and hacked left and right with their swords, felling defenders.
Seeing their mates in the first line dropping, Brey and Nev surged forward and fought the boarders with all their skill. Though neither noticed consciously, their fear had dropped away once they engaged their enemy.
During the course of the battle, they were swept apart. Nev was forced in the direction of the stern, and was constantly wielding his blade in his defense. The pirates were not particularly adept fighters, though they utilized a number of underhanded tactics, quite often succeeding in scoring a hit on one of the defenders. Nev had been trained to handle most of them and was able to counter their attacks. At one point, just as darkness was falling, he was beset by two swordsmen at once. Later, Nev would recall the exultant rush he felt as he fended blow after blow and finally felled both attackers, one after the other. Mallen grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to the starboard bow, where Report and two crewmen were defending an open area in front of the small boat.
Brey had been swept along the rail toward the bow. The pirates learned quickly to avoid the blade of the fierce fighter. Everywhere the young man's blade flashed, pain followed. A concerted effort was made to isolate him and remove his blade from the larger battle. At one point, three of the villain's banded together to kill him; however, Greer was able to remove one of them from the battle before they could strike in force. Brey was able to push the remaining two back and win free. At a signal from Greer, they moved across deck to the starboard rail, where Nev and Mallen were making ready to jump in to the rowboat.
Report called over his shoulder to Greer and said, "Get ready to drop that boat."
"Aye aye Cap'n." he said gravely and nodded to his friend.
"Good luck, my friends." was all the captain said, clasping each hand, and then turning back to the fight.
Greer and Mallen chivvied the young travelers into the boat. "Hold on!" yelled Mallen as he and Greer jumped in and cut the rope that held them. The boat dropped into the water with a crash, bumping and bruising all of them. It was only good fortune the kept the craft from breaking to pieces as it hit the water. They quickly got the oars in the locks and began rowing. As they cleared the bow, they turned and rowed directly away from the melee aboard the ship. They all looked on in horror as the boarders finally brushed aside the remaining defenses and slew the Braydon's crew one by one until only Report remained in the fight. He was dueling with the pirate leader and seemed to have the upper hand until he lost his footing. Time was frozen in that second as all aboard the small boat saw their captain and friend run through by the notorious Captain Blunt.
As Captain Report had hoped, the little boat slipped away during the confusion, the darkness hiding them from those aboard the ships. The four friends could only watch in silent horror as their comrades bodies were thrown one by one into the sea, including their fearless captain. The fires aboard the Daemon had done some damage to two of her masts and rigging but not enough to make her less than seaworthy, though she would limp until she could be repaired.
The pirates left a prize crew aboard the Braydon and made ready to sail her away along side the frigate. Soon both ships raised what sails they could and turned south, sailing away from the little boat floating in the middle of the Great Western Ocean.
Out of the fight, Nev and Brey finally felt the brutality they had just been involved in; tears welled up in their eyes and flowed freely for some time. The carpenter and the sail maker spoke quietly to them about the life of a sailor on the high seas and the possibility each runs that this sort of thing can happen.
The next morning dawned chill and the sky was leaden from horizon to horizon. "It looks like we may be in for a blow. I don't know about you gents, but I would like to be anywhere but stuck in the middle of the Western in a storm floating in a shell of a boat like this." said Mallen sourly.
Nev looked around, trying vainly to see land on the horizon. "How far do you suppose we are from the Kulu Islands? We weren’t that far away when we were attacked last night."
"Depends on the currents hereabouts." replied Greer. "My guess is since we are still north of the Belt; we have been drifting away from the Kulus rather than toward. With a bit of a breeze we may be able to fix that though. Mallen, you have a guess how far we might have drifted in seven or eight hours?"
Mallen stroked his beard and replied. "I would guess no more than several leagues. If memory serves, the currents calm a bit near this part of the Belt."
Glad to have something to distract him from his thoughts of the terrible battle, Brey had been figuring in his head, "So we are maybe thirty miles further away. Nev, do you remember how far the captain said it was?"
Nev thought back on it. "Well, he had me sail almost due west for four hours, and I was supposed to turn five degrees south again, but I never did. So we must be north and east of the islands. If we were supposed to be in sight of the islands by dusk we must be something like sixty or seventy leagues from the islands by now."
Mallen had been calculating in his head as well, "I agree." He turned to the carpenter with a quizzical look. "So, do you think you and your young friend could rig up some sort of sail and get us somewhere more hospitable?"
The squat carpenter laughed heartily and said, "I am sure we can come up with something."
In short order, a cloak was affixed to a makeshift mast made from one of the long oars of the boat. They sailed southwesterly for that entire day without sighting land. From time to time, they
would partake of the meager supplies they brought with them. They had perhaps two days water and an additional day's food. They elected to sail through the night as well, as Nev had learned enough of the stars to gauge direction with at least a little confidence. They knew landfall was the only way to survive. Nev took the first sailing watch and Mallen the second, as he too knew how to read the stars to navigate. Fortune was with them in that the storm they feared never materialized and only had to suffer through a light rain.
By morning, they were in sight of the Kulu Islands. The largest was a vast cone-shaped island covered almost entirely in deep green vegetation with few breaks. The bright sun shone down, giving the island a shining appearance. There were no apparent signs of habitation on the north side from which they approached.
"If memory serves," said the lanky sail maker, "there is a natural cove on the south side of the island. We should be able to land there by noon, I would guess."
"Does anyone live on this island?" asked Brey.
"Of course. The natives of Kulu are quite friendly and hospitable. I imagine we will be given a very nice reception." responded Mallen with a grin. "From what I have heard, it should be quite nice indeed." He winked at Greer, who merely grunted.
Nev leaned over to Brey and whispered. "What does that mean – ‘quite nice’?"
His chum shrugged. "Maybe they like traders or something."
Greer dropped the sail as they entered the cove and Brey rowed the rest of the way toward the white sand beach.
Mallen had been scanning the beach and the trees for signs of the natives. "This is decidedly odd. The natives are reputed to come down to the beach to greet visitors." He shielded has eyes from the noontime sun and searched once again. "I suggest we go carefully once we land, gentlemen; in fact, I suggest we go armed. This doesn't look right."
Greer grunted again and added, "Not even smoke from a cook fire. You sure this is the island with people on it, Mallen?"
"Positive." was his tense reply. "You can see well-cut trails over there." he said, pointing to the left end of the beach. There was clearly a well-traveled path there. They landed the boat at that end of the beach and pulled it well up on the sand to keep it from being taken by the tide.
They looked at the deserted trail leading deep into the jungle. Brey and Nev drew their swords and followed as the older men began walking cautiously down the path. The jungle darkened under the canopy a mere fifty yards in. Approximately a quarter mile along the trail they came to a large clearing; spaced evenly around the outer edge of the open area were dozens of huts. The middle of the clearing was occupied by a much larger hut and a deep communal fire pit at least ten feet in diameter.
Nev looked around the little village. Not only were there no signs of anyone living there, but it appeared as though no one had been there for some time. The ashes in the fire pit had clearly been rained upon and the open area was littered with fallen palm fronds. The huts looked as though they had been shut purposefully, large pots and firewood stored neatly in corners.
"I think your reception has been postponed." said Greer with a chuckle. "Looks like they picked up and moved, my friend."
The former teacher had a perplexed look on his face. "These are not a migratory people. They are supposed live here year round."
"Why would they move?" asked Brey.
The stout carpenter grunted. "Only two reasons I can think of - food dried up or unwelcome visitors. We saw signs of game aplenty just walking here, so…"
A look of alarm crossed the older man's thin face. "This must be where the raiders are holing up! We need to get off this island and fast." he exclaimed.
Nev, who had been exploring the village, asked "Where are they staying then? It doesn't look like anyone has been here for a long time."
This observation caused Mallen to pause. "Well, that appears to be true." he said, looking around the village more closely. "Perhaps they stay on their ship and simply come ashore for provisions. In any case, we don't want to be caught here. I doubt we can be lucky enough to escape them again."
"Couldn't we go to another part of the island?" asked Brey. "Maybe we can sail further on and find a spot where they won't find us."
It was Greer who answered his question. "Problem is, lad, we are marooned. Our only chance of getting off this lump of sand is to light a signal fire if we see sails on the horizon. True? If we can't light a fire for fear of pirates, how can we get off?"
"Oh."
"We are left with a couple of choices then, my fellow castaways, we stay and live the life of luxury or we find another way off this island.'
"Couldn't we just get some food and water together and set sail?" asked Nev.
"Wouldn't work very well." said Mallen. "We are a long way off normal trade routes and very few ships travel this far out. Even if we could get back to the Beltline, we could drift for months before we saw a ship."
"Not to mention," added the carpenter, "the boat is fairly small and any swells higher than five foot or so could swamp us. Sorry, Nev, but sailing any distance in a dinghy is suicide for sure." He grunted and said, "Besides, the amount of fresh water we would need is enough to scuttle the boat all by itself."
"So we stay here and hope a friendly ship comes right up to us?" asked Brey incredulously.
Mallen looked at him and grinned. "That about sums it up."
Brey felt sick to his stomach. He looked over at his friend and saw in Nev's face the same hopelessness he knew was in his own eyes. Tears came to their eyes for the second time in three days. The two older men allowed them a few minutes to get out some of their emotion. Both young men sat down on a large log and cried for several minutes. Suddenly Brey lifted his head and turned to his chum.
"Nev, we are not going to be stuck here. We are going to find a way off this island." His red-rimmed eyes burned with conviction.
His friend didn't even raise his head. "How can you say that? We are stuck in the middle of nowhere on an island used by pirates. We are going to die here." he replied in a hollow voice.
"I tell you, we aren't. I look deep inside and I just know we will get off this island. I don't know how I know exactly, but I do."
"And you are right, young Brey!" said Greer as he and Mallen approached. "My pointy-bearded friend and I have been discussing our situation and we have a plan."
Both young men looked up at the burly man and asked in unison, "What?"
"Here is what we think. It will be the storm season fairly soon and that means the raiders and the like will head below the Beltline and back toward Merridon's southern neighbor to ride out the winter." He sat down in the sand on front of them and continued. "We also know for a fact that two ships tried for the Crystalline Sea a couple weeks before we set out. They should be heading back this way pretty soon; and with the storm season upon them at that. What does a ship do when they know foul weather may be on the horizon at any minute, Nev?"
Suddenly he understood. "You always sail towards a port! Captain Report said this was the last big island north of the Beltline before you cross over to the Crystalline Sea."
Mallen beamed at him. "Exactly! So we keep an eye peeled to the southwest and keep a signal fire ready to light once sails show on the horizon. In a few weeks anyway; we are still not safe at this point."
Greer chimed in, "We should be here no more than a month, maybe two." At seeing the grimaces on the young men's faces he added, "It's a sight better than dying here. True?" The adventurers smiled and even managed a weak chuckle.
Mallen smiled as well and said, "Now, if you lads would be so kind, will you bring the packs and provisions from the boat? We will go back later and hide it from sight." They got up and headed back toward the beach to retrieve their things.
The men looked at each other for a moment. "How long, do you suppose, before they ask how likely it is either of those ships actually made it there and will make it back?
"
"A long time, if we can keep them busy." replied Greer with a tight smile.
They filled the next several days with various tasks. The group first settled themselves in the village temporarily and gathered water and food. A small stream was found close to the village; the gourds and jars left by the villagers were used to store a good supply of fresh water. The island also boasted many different kinds of fruit and plenty of fish in the lagoon.
Next, they moved the boat off the beach and concealed it further east along the shoreline in case the pirates came back to the island again. While Nev and Mallen assembled a pile of wood for the bonfire, Brey and Greer planned and began building a suitable dwelling where they could see the shore and the village without being easily seen themselves.
The shelter they contrived was really quite clever. It was a tree house of sorts. It was built around four adjacent trees and consisted of two 'rooms', one for sleeping that was enclosed and one that was open and afforded a view of the surrounding area. Because the palm trees were prone to swaying in the wind, the whole structure was supported by ropes woven out of vines and fibers found easily in the jungle, making the whole structure move as the trees moved. Unless there was a heavy wind, the shelter would move only slightly since it was somewhat counter-balanced between the four tall trees. The flooring was comprised of bamboo and driftwood and the underside, walls, and roof were thatched with palm fronds in an irregular pattern, making the structure harder to see in the jungle.
At the end of eight days, they had finished the hard work and waiting was now their most difficult task. They each spent four hours on 'horizon watch', keeping an eye out for sails. The remaining time was spent gathering food or exploring the island.
In various places around that side of the island were strange idols carved from wood or rock. Mallen had explained that these markers were intended to bring luck or to warn people away, depending on the depiction. Nev was quite taken with the grotesque figures and studied each one intently; one particular statue was a yard or so tall and carved from wood. The little man depicted was round, though not exactly fat; its head was round as well and bore an expression of anger or perhaps distaste. He also wore a crown that was half again as tall as his head. The chest and belly of the idol had several symbols carved upon it. Some looked like swirls and some like tiny stick figures. The only other adornment appeared to be a wrap about the waist, extending almost to the knees. Nev found the representation to be strange and exotic.
"That one warns that their god will be angered if a person were to go along that path." Mallen said from directly behind the youth.
"Why don't they just make signs, like normal people?" he asked.
"They have no written language such as we have, Nev. They pass information along through the spoken word and through idols or symbols."
"How do you know what this one means?" Nev replied.
"It's simple really. Each of the idols is roughly the same; the same face and clothes and crown, indicating their primary god, Kolohu." He pointed to the symbols carved in the midriff area of the idol. "These symbols here and the angered expression in which the face has been carved indicate displeasure along this path." He went on to explain the carved symbols on this and other idols nearby.
"So," concluded Nev, "they have a written language, just not in letters, right?"
"Precisely, my boy." he said with a smile. "The 'letters' are representative of an idea rather than an actual letter in a word to be spelled out."
"Is this Kolohu the same god as the Creator?" The young man asked, intrigued by the idea of the Creator being portrayed in such a strange manner.
"Not exactly. There are as many gods as there are different peoples in the world I would imagine." Mallen stroked his beard in thought for a moment, seeking the best explanation. "You see, the Kulu's believe their god speaks to them through nature. The trees and the fish in the water are all an embodiment of the god himself. If a villager were to walk down this path and were attacked by a wild animal, it is accepted both as the will of their god, and as a warning by that same god not to walk this path. Do you understand what I mean?"
"Not really." Nev replied, feeling confused.
"All right, let me explain it this way. If you come across a bush with pretty red berries on it, try some of the berries and get sick from them, what have you learned?"
"Not to eat berries you don't know are good to eat, of course."
"Yes!" exclaimed the schoolteacher. "Your common sense tells you so. But, what if you were the first person ever to try them and you had no way to write down a warming because you have no written language? You would leave a sign of sorts so someone else doesn't get sick too. And who kept you from dying? Your god, so you could warn others." He thought a moment about how to sum up his example. "You see, the people here would believe that since you were only sickened rather than killed by the berries, someone must have been giving you a warning about eating them. Only a god could do that."
"That doesn't exactly make sense, you know."
"For that first tribe of savages a thousand years ago, it was the only way to explain it. They attribute things not easily explained or understood to a wiser and older being. A god."
Nev began to understand what he was driving at. "So you are saying when they can't come up with a reason for something they say it was a sign from their god. Right?"
"Precisely! It is actually a very clever way for the ignorant to avoid learning."
Though it still didn't ring completely true to Nev, he accepted what the older man told him for the time being.
By the end of their second week on the island, they had settled into a routine of standing watch and gathering food and water. The remainder of their time was mainly spent talking. They talked about everything under the sun. Nev and Brey spoke of their home and their journey from Carsby to Groden, with a few omissions. Mallen told of his own home, his early Choice of being a tailor and of his years as a schoolteacher. Greer spoke mainly of his love of ships and the ocean; in fact, he could describe every ship he had sailed upon in minute detail. There were arguments as well. Brey and the gruff carpenter would often get into lengthy, heated discussions about the cargo rig they would build once they returned to Groden. Nev would challenge Mallen on his observations, asking question after question trying to get a satisfying answer. Overall, the time spent was passed as pleasantly as one could expect while being marooned in the middle of a vast ocean.
On the twenty-sixth day of their ordeal, Nev spotted what he was certain must be sails while on horizon watch. He waited nearly a half-hour before he felt certain that he was indeed seeing what they had all hoped to see. What gave him pause was the direction from which they came. The ship was approaching from the southeast rather than the southwest. He itched to light the large pile of brush and driftwood that they had built on the beach but hesitated, uncertain of who may be on that ship. He decided it would be best to fetch his mates to get their opinion. He sprinted from his perch atop a large boulder at one end of the beach toward the shelter they had constructed.
"Hey! Hey! I see sails on the horizon, I see sails!" he yelled as he ran down the path. All three of his shipmates were in the structure amongst the trees.
"Where away?" Greer yelled down. "I don't see anything from here."
"To the southeast." was the reply.
The two older men exchanged a look of concern. "Are you certain, lad?" the carpenter asked.
"Yes. I wasn't sure if I should light the fire or not. I came to ask you."
Mallen nodded as he made his way toward the rope to climb down from the tree house. "Wise choice, Nev. Let's go take a look at this ship, shall we?"
All four ran back toward the lookout spot near the beach. Once there, each looked to the southeast horizon. After several minutes of intense scrutiny, Mallen swore loudly. "Pirates! Gentlemen, we need to hide all traces of our having been in the
village and around the beach. We cannot help the wood pile, but with luck they won't give it any thought. We must hurry, the raiders will be here in no more than an hour and a half."
As they all turned and hurried back along the trail, Brey asked, "How do you know they're pirates? It could be a trader just as easily, couldn't it?"
"I am afraid not, my boy." he called over his shoulder. "Those sails belong to the Braydon; I should know as I made them myself."
Friends of the Crown - Book 1 of Heroes of the Realm Page 10