Ring of the Or'tux, page 39
“Where did he go do you suppose?” asked Hunter.
“I doubt if you scared him off,” stated Larus. “If that had been the case, he wouldn’t have finished patching the holes.” Coming to the boat, he inspected the seams and the tar which had formed globules of sticky goo along the cracks. Pointing to the tar, Larus said, “This is going to reduce the speed of the boat.” Glancing back to Hunter he added, “Could even make steerage difficult.”
Glancing around, he found the warehouse’s workbench and removed a trowel-like tool. It had a short handle and a wide, narrow head. Bringing the tool to the boat, he began scraping off the excess tar. “It still won’t be a perfect job,” he explained as he flicked a mess of recently removed tar off the tool and onto the floor, “but this should improve its maneuverability.”
Scraping off more of the tar, he failed to notice the door on the far side of the warehouse open and someone enter. “What do you think you are doing?” a voice demanded.
Three heads swiveled toward the young man who had just entered. At his hip rested a sword and his expression was less than congenial.
“Just removing some of the excess tar,” Larus explained.
The young man came forward with hand on the hilt of his sword. “Get away from my boat.”
“Your boat?” questioned Larus.
Nodding, the young man replied, “That’s right. It’s my boat. Now please, step away.”
Larus took one step back and dropped the trowel to the floor. Indicating Hunter, he said, “Our friend said you were patching this boat and we thought we would come and see if we could help.”
“I don’t need any help,” asserted the young man. Coming to a stop several feet shy of Larus, he struck as menacing a pose as he could muster. All in all, it did little to intimidate Larus.
“How do you plan to get it in the river?” he asked.
Surprised, the young man’s menacing façade slipped. “River?”
Larus nodded. “You have the look of someone on the road to vengeance,” he said. “Or am I off the mark?”
Silence hung between the two men as the young man stared at Larus.
“We too seek to reach Xith without the complications of dealing with Captain Hopewell,” added Larus. “I’m sure he believes this boat to be beyond repair. Else it would have been fixed already and put to use ferrying supplies to Xith.” Gazing into the young man’s eyes he asked, “Am I right?”
Still the young man stood silently. His eyes darted from Larus to Father Thomas. He took in the robes which marked him unmistakably as a priest of Casdralla, and finally to Hunter.
“I’m sure it’s easily large enough to accommodate four people,” Larus said, drawing the young man’s attention back to him. When it looked as if the young man was going to balk, he added, “Of course, we could always put the matter before Captain Hopewell and see what he says.”
That took the bluster out of the young man and he shook his head. “No,” he said. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”
Coming to stand beside Larus, Father Thomas said, “My son, we are on our Lady’s business and must reach Xith as soon as possible. It would seem that this boat is the only way in which we can arrive in time without undue complications.”
The words of Father Thomas appeared to soften the young man’s attitude still further. “You mean you are on a quest for our Lady Casdralla?” he asked.
Father Thomas nodded. “You could say that,” he replied.
The barest hint of a grin appeared on his face. “Then that would mean your chances of reaching Xith are good,” he reasoned.
“That’s right,” agreed Larus. “And any who come with us.”
“I’m in,” the young man said after only a moment’s consideration. “When do we leave?”
Chapter 30
The young man’s name was Garin, the second son of a farmer from a small village in northwestern Casdra near Ascet. “My older brother joined the guards a year ago,” he explained to Father Thomas. “Two weeks before word came of the Ullentite invasion, we received a letter from him stating how he was being assigned to the garrison at Xith. We have had no word since.”
Tears formed in his eyes though he did the best he could to hide them. “He was so excited about the post,” said Garin. “He told me that when harvest was over he wanted me to visit and he would show me the sights.” Sadness worked to take control but he swallowed and pushed it down. “I hope he still lives.”
“So how did you come to be here?” asked Father Thomas.
He gave a rueful chuckle. “My grandfather,” he replied. “He used to be in the guard way back when, even made captain before he retired. All our lives my brother and I had been filled with his tales of glory. Whenever we went for a visit, he would teach us sword craft. Of course our mother disapproved but she never directly forbade it.”
“When word came that the Ullentites had attacked and Xith was besieged, grandfather gave me his sword and said, ‘Garin, the years have taken their toll on me. It’s up to you now. Do me proud.’ And with his sword and a pouch full of coins, I made my way here.”
As the two talked quietly, Larus stood at a window overlooking the area between the warehouse and the river. A solitary guard stood near the water and they would have to wait until he moved off before making their run to the river. The wait was more due to Father Thomas than anything else. He feared that should the guard attempt to block their passage, that someone would get hurt. And knowing of Larus’ prowess with the sword, well knew who that person would be. So they waited.
In the quiet of the warehouse, he continued listening to the tale spun by young Garin. “When I arrived in Pickwood, I learned that my chances of reaching Xith were small. With the boats having yet to return, I realized I had to find another way.”
“And that is how you came to find this boat?” prompted Father Thomas.
Garin nodded. “It was in pretty bad shape,” he explained. “I don’t know how it even made it back up the river with the holes in its bottom. They must have run into trouble for as you can see, most of the outward side has been scored by flames. I even dug two arrowheads out of the rail.”
“That guard is still there,” interrupted Larus. Turning back to Father Thomas he said, “We’ll give him another ten minutes. But after that, we have to get going.”
“Then let us pray he moves before then,” replied the priest. After quietly saying a brief prayer asking for just that, he returned his attention to Garin. “How did you think to get the boat to the river by yourself?”
“I hadn’t figured that out yet,” he replied. “But I wasn’t going to let that stop me.”
Hunter sat over on a crate trying not to feel left out since he couldn’t follow the conversation. He knew that if anything important was said that Larus would be sure to let him know. But there had been much discussion going on and not one word of translation had he received. All in all he was getting a bit annoyed.
“You did a good job in patching the holes,” Larus said.
Garin shrugged. “That was the easy part,” he explained.
“I thought you said you were a farmer’s son,” stated Larus. “I didn’t know there were any shipwrights in your family.”
“There aren’t,” replied Garin. “All farmers have to know how to work with tools and wood. As my father always said, ‘A farmer is the most skilled, unskilled labor there is.’ Which is true. A farmer has to know how to do everything.”
“I agree with you there,” Larus said. “Farmers are much more capable than most of those living in cities.”
A shout from outside drew his attention back to the window. A guard from over by the main dock area was shouting to the one standing in their way. Larus watched in satisfaction as the guard began walking over to the dock area. In a moment the way was clear to the river.
“Alright people,” Larus said. “He’s moved off.”
“Time to go?” asked Hunter.
“Yes it is,” replied Larus. Crossing over to the side of the boat, he had the other three join him in lifting it off the stand. Then they carried it over to the large loading doors facing the river.
After pausing by the window to ensure the route to the river was momentarily free of others, Larus swung the loading door open. As soon as there was enough room for the boat to pass, they made for the river.
“No matter what,” Larus said, “don’t stop.”
“What do you think I am,” replied Garin, “stupid?” Across his back was secured two oars which would be needed once they were on the water.
They barely made it a quarter of the way to the water’s edge before the cry went up. Soldiers seeing their flight to the water carrying the boat were moving to intercept.
“Move!” exclaimed Larus as he pushed them faster.
“Stop!” one soldier yelled. Larus glanced in his direction and saw that it was the same one he had argued with not very long ago.
“I don’t think so!” shouted Garin with a laugh.
Halfway to the water now and the soldiers were gaining fast. It was going to be close. Suddenly, Father Thomas cried out as he slipped and fell. Larus paused only a moment as he and the other two redistributed the weight of the boat. In the bat of an eye, Father Thomas regained his feet. With an apology and a comment about how his robe tripped him up, they were off.
Glancing over his shoulder, Larus saw Captain Hopewell appear. Shouting orders he rallied his men. He wasn’t about to allow a serviceable boat to get away.
Now with less than a quarter of the way to go, Garin suddenly let go of the boat. “Get it into the water!” he cried as he drew his sword and turned to face the oncoming soldiers.
Those racing after slowed as they approached this determined young man. With steel held at the ready, Garin faced a score of soldiers, some with many years of experience. Before the first soldier had a chance to close, Garin shouted a war cry and attacked.
“Brave fool,” murmured Larus. Those soldiers were going to cut him to pieces. But at least he was giving them the time they needed to reach the water and ready the boat. As the clash of steel on steel rang out in the dark, they reached the water’s edge.
Larus waded out into the water several feet where he and Hunter managed to right the boat and set it afloat. “You first Father,” he said and helped the priest into the boat. After he was safely in, Hunter climbed aboard. Then, giving the boat a mighty push away from the shore, Larus hopped in. As the current took them and they began floating downriver, Larus suddenly looked back to where Garin still fought. “The oars!” he exclaimed. They were still strapped to Garin’s back. “I’ve got to go back!”
About to jump into the river, the sound of swordplay ceased and a shadow began racing along the beach. It was Garin, the oar handles rising above either shoulder was a dead giveaway.
“Come on!” Larus shouted as the young man kept running.
“Go!” Garin shouted and remained on the beach making no attempt to enter the water and reach the boat.
“What is he doing?” asked Father Thomas.
The shoreline was filled with soldiers in pursuit of Garin.
Racing along the shoreline, he quickly reached the dock area. Jumping up onto the dock without so much as slowing, he evaded three soldiers as they tried to grab him then raced for the second warehouse.
The two story tall structure loomed at the edge of the water. As the three companions floated with the current, they saw the shadow that was Garin merge with that of the warehouse. They kept watch on the warehouse expecting Garin to emerge on the other side. But when he failed to appear, Larus grew worried. Then, just as hope began to fail, Hunter pointed to the roof and shouted, “Look!”
“What does that fool think he’s doing?” queried Larus.
Atop the warehouse, they saw Garin run across the roof toward the river. Just before he reached the end, Father Thomas said, “Oh my,” as it became clear what Garin’s plan was to be. Racing to the edge, Garin took a flying leap out over the water. Diving in a less than graceful manner, he soared over fifteen feet before impacting with the water.
“Back!” hollered Larus. They were a good forty feet further downstream from where Garin disappeared below the surface. Three pairs of hands dipped into the water and fought against the current to bring them back upstream.
Seconds ticked by and Garin failed to resurface. Larus feared he may have suffered an injury when he hit the water. “Garin!” he shouted. In the dark of night it was hard to see more than intermittent glimmers upon the water from the stars and moon above.
“Father,” said Larus, “watch the right side.” Switching to English he told Hunter to keep an eye on the left. The expanse of water behind the boat was his province. Straining for any evidence of Garin either swimming or floating, he strained his eyes to the utmost.
“See anything?” he asked. Two voices replied negatively. “Garin!” he again shouted. Then suddenly, the left side of the boat tipped dangerously close to the water. All three lost their balance in the sudden shift and Hunter almost fell from the boat.
“Here,” Garin’s voice called out. Then he laughed. “Man that was fun!”
Larus turned to find him gripping the side of the boat and pulling himself inside. As he did so, the left side again approached precariously close to the surface of the water. Now that he knew what was causing it, Larus immediately shifted his weight as a counterbalance. In a moment, Garin was out of the water.
Despite the lack of light, Larus could see the young man grinning. “Are you crazy?” he asked. “A jump like that could kill a man.”
“Relax,” replied Garin. “Did stuff like that all the time back home. Besides it was the quickest way to evade the soldiers and still get to you before you sailed out of reach.”
Father Thomas came and sat next to him. “Are you injured?” he asked.
Garin shook his head. “Naw,” he assured the priest. “All I did was slow them down so you could get the boat in the water. Once I was sure you were safely on the water, I broke off and ran like He…, uh sorry Father.”
Patting him on the back, Father Thomas grinned and said, “Do not worry about it. I am simply glad you are unharmed.”
Back on the shore, soldiers stood watching as they sailed away, none were making to pursue. Larus wasn’t certain, but he thought he saw Captain Hopewell waving goodbye. Retrieving the oars from Garin, he began rowing vigorously downriver. “Do you know the waters between Pickwood and Xith?” he asked their new companion.
“Sorry but no,” replied Garin. “I’ve only been to Xith once and that was when I was little and we went by way of the pass.”
“We have several hours before the river empties out into the lake,” explained Father Thomas. “After that it is another hour or two across open water to Xith’s harbor.”
“I heard one of the guards saying there is a rather large, bowman filled boat that guards the mouth of the river,” offered Garin. “He said the last time they passed through they lost several ships to it.”
“We heard that as well,” replied Father Thomas. Glancing to Larus, he asked, “Any idea how we are going to avoid that obstacle?”
“Not as yet,” admitted Larus. “But I am sure we’ll come up with something when the time comes.” For the following hours until daylight he wracked his brain coming up with a solution.
Three men lay asleep in the bottom of the boat while the fourth kept it centered on the river. The current was moving the boat along rapidly enough so all Larus had to do was use one of the oars as a rudder to maintain their position.
Off to the east, the sky above the treetops was beginning to lighten with the coming of dawn. Over the past several hours, he had struggled to come up with a brilliant maneuver to get them past whatever may lay in wait for them ahead. Unfortunately, brilliance only comes when you know what you are up against.
A few contingency plans had come to mind, depending on the situation. He even thought that should the woods along the last mile of river before the lake prove thick enough in which to hide, that they could take the boat from the water and carry it through the forest to the lake, thereby bypassing the enemy ship that must assuredly be waiting for them at the mouth of the river. None of his ideas were really certain of seeing them through. And as night faded away to dawn, his mind worked overtime.
Black sky turned to a dark blue, then continued to lighten even further. The first to awaken was Father Thomas. He had lain in an awkward position the last half hour and Larus was sure he would have a sore back.
“Where are we?” asked Father Thomas. Sitting up, he glanced to either side of the boat then took a good look downriver.
“Still on the river,” replied Larus. “I stowed the oars and let the current carry us so you could have more time to rest before things became…rushed.”
“Rushed,” replied Father Thomas with a grim chuckle. “That is one way of putting it.” Taking another look at their surroundings, he said, “The lake cannot be much further ahead.”
“I know,” agreed Larus. “Thought perhaps to pull to the shore and scout ahead before we stumble into a trap.”
“You think there is one?” asked Father Thomas.
Larus nodded. “There has to be,” he replied. “This river is the only avenue your people have of sending men and supplies to Xith. Any commander worth his salt would have men in position watching for any traffic coming down the river. Most likely would even have a bevy of archers available to rain a hail of missiles down upon whatever approaches.”
Face turning grim, Father Thomas looked downriver again. This time, his eyes scanned the tree-lined shore on either side. “Maybe we should go ashore now,” he suggested.
“Very well,” Larus agreed. “East bank or west?”
“Why are you asking me?” he asked.
“You have insights the rest of us lack,” explained Larus.
