by Magnus Mills
“No, of course not,” said Thegn.
“Then our next move depends on you.”
Another dash of spray rose up and fell again. Treading carefully, Thegn went to the edge of the rocks and looked down at the furious torrent.
“I suppose it would require a light line,” he offered at length.
“A lifeline?” said Tostig. “What do you mean by that?”
“No, no, a light line,” Thegn repeated. “So that I can venture further. I could use it to pull a heavier rope across. People who build bridges employ a similar method, so I believe. Once the first rope is anchored, it’s quite easy to add a second, then a third, and so on.”
“Thegn, I don’t want a bridge,” said Tostig. “I simply want you on the other side of this river. Guthrum is in charge of all ropes, so if you’ve got a preference you’d better speak to him about it. Now have you seen enough?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Well, let’s get into some shelter. Come on.”
Tostig turned and led the way back towards the Lintel Rock, where their companions were tending to the mules. After a consultation with Guthrum, it was decided that Thegn’s crossing would be attempted the following noon, and in the meantime they would make camp.
“Here is a fine opportunity to replenish our water supplies,” announced Tostig. “In fact, it might be our last chance for quite a while. Can you see to it, Snaebjorn?”
“I’ll begin right away.”
“Let me help,” said Thegn, rising to his feet.
“No, you take a rest,” Tostig countered. “Thorsson can assist Snaebjorn. You’ll need all your strength for tomorrow’s ordeal. And incidentally, if you have any valuables in your possession I suggest you leave them with Guthrum or myself for safekeeping.”
“I brought nothing of any worth,” said Thegn. “Before we embarked I received instructions to travel as lightly as possible, so naturally I complied.”
“Then at least give me the star from your cap,” said Tostig. “Without it there’ll be naught to remind us of the glory of your quest.”
“Unless I succeed.”
“If you succeed you will be granted due recognition; possibly even a mention on the map.” Tostig held out his hand to receive Thegn’s silver star, which he then dropped into a side-pocket. “Now I suggest you go to bed early. Find a place amongst these rocks to pitch your tent, and we’ll see you in the morning.”
After Thegn had retired, Tostig and Guthrum spent some time examining Thorsson’s map, which they’d laid out on top of a large flat boulder. Much detail had been added in the past few days, although it was still far from complete. By lamplight they studied the latest additions: namely, the Lintel Rock and the rapids beyond. Thorsson had made extensive use of the light-blue pen to mark the course of the dry river bed, with a darker hue for the river itself.
“It’s getting to be quite a tour de force,” remarked Guthrum.
“Without doubt,” concurred Tostig. “Thorsson has done a very thorough job. Yet there’s one thing that worries me about this map of ours. I’m concerned that the finished version could become a cause of mistrust between ourselves and our comrades. After all, whoever controls the map controls the route.”
“Indeed.”
“Therefore, I propose that when we reach our destination the map should be divided into separate sections, one for each man. This could be four or five, depending on the outcome of Thegn’s jaunt tomorrow. I think you’ll agree that it will probably be better not to mention the matter to Thorsson for the time being. He may lose heart if he discovers his masterpiece is going to be cut up. Then there’s the question of Thegn himself…”
As he spoke, Tostig casually reached into the pocket containing Thegn’s silver star. “Hello, what’s this?” he said, pulling out a folded sheet of notepaper. Holding it to the lamp, he peered at it closely before uttering a surprised, “Well, well, well.”
“What is it?” asked Guthrum.
“See for yourself,” Tostig answered, handing it over. “I thought all my correspondence had been filed away when we sailed, but this must have somehow shpped through the net.”
Guthrum took the note and read:
My dear Tostig
I have just received your message and now hasten to reply. Yes, by all means feel free to make full use of the blockhouse. Clark and I built it for the very purpose of providing a staging post for those who arrive at that desolate shore. Needless to say, I am delighted you’ve decided to give Commander Johns a run for his money. Maybe at last this issue can be settled once and for all. I wish both parties good luck in their endeavours.
Yours sincerely
R.F. Younghusband
“Written in his own hand,” observed Guthrum, returning the note. “You were highly honoured.”
“A courteous rejoinder to a polite enquiry,” said Tostig. “Just as one would expect from the great man.”
“An adventurer of the old school.”
“Unquestionably.”
“Why did he and Clark turn back? I never quite understood the reason.”
“You might well ask. The official explanation was given as ‘navigational difficulties’, but the truth was that they lost all their mules whilst still at sea. Apparently the wretched creatures succumbed to a form of melancholia during a storm: you know how easily they can become dispirited. One by one they died and had to be thrown overboard. A very trying episode, as you might imagine. Nevertheless, the voyagers pressed on and eventually made land. By building the blockhouse Younghusband and Clark greatly improved the chances of their successors, but in terms of their own plans the expedition was a disaster. They never got beyond the beachhead. Naturally, the cause of the failure was suppressed as long as possible for fear of undermining the Theory.”
“Naturally.”
“And I’m afraid the story has a sad postscript: poor Clark died on the homeward journey. I gather he was buried at sea.”
In silence, Tostig and Guthrum resumed their perusal of the map. For several minutes neither spoke, and the only sound was the distant roar of the river. Then, at last, approaching footsteps indicated the return of Snaebjorn and Thorsson from their duties at the water’s edge. After reporting that all the canisters were now fully replenished, Snaebjorn went off with Guthrum to feed the mules and erect the remaining tents. In the meantime, Tostig took Thorsson to one side.
“I’d like a quiet word, if you don’t mind,” he murmured. “While our colleagues are otherwise engaged.”
“Nothing wrong, I hope?” said Thorsson. “Surely not a mistake with the map?”
“No, no, of course not,” replied Tostig. “I merely wish to sound you out in a general way, that’s all. You are no doubt aware that Thegn is planning to assay the rapids tomorrow?”
“I guessed as much.”
“Well, I was wondering if there was anything you wanted to tell me before he sallies forth? Any salient fact or omission, for example, which you feel I’ve overlooked and should be brought to my attention; any rumour circulating without my knowledge; any weakness in the chain of command?”
“None that I can think of.”
“And you’ll agree that in our current circumstances each member of the party is dependent on everyone else?”
“Indeed.”
“Then tell me, Thorsson, would you invest Thegn with your life at the end of a rope?”
“Yes, I would.”
“Equally Snaebjorn?”
“Without hesitation.”
“And they you?”
“I should certainly like to think so.”
“Excellent. Quite excellent.” Tostig returned to the map and gave it a final inspection before rolling it up for the evening. Then he looked across at his navigator. “Thorsson,” he said. “You remain my trusted Number Three.”
“Thank you, sir,” came the reply.
§
The following day around about noon, four men watched as a coil of rope gradually
unwound. One end was anchored to a pillar of rock overlooking the river; the other had been tied round Thegn’s waist before he disappeared into the gloom.
“Now we can only wait,” said Tostig.
His voice was all but drowned out by the continuous din that rose up from the waters below. Thegn had chosen to begin the crossing by descending a flight of natural steps he’d discovered a short distance upriver from the camp. Leaving his belongings with Snaebjorn, he’d asked them all to wish him luck before carefully starting down. Hereafter the only indication of his progress would be the slowly moving rope that slithered over the rocks and into nothingness.
Little by little the coil diminished, sometimes in a steady flow, sometimes in a series of fitful jerks interspersed with long halts. Thegn was clearly being very cautious. Presently the rope went slack along its entire length, as if he was coming back towards them. Everyone waited; a minute passed, then another, but still the rope remained slack.
“Shall I take some in?” suggested Guthrum.
“Good idea,” Tostig replied.
Guthrum stepped forward to seize the rope, but at the same instant it tautened and was off once more, uncoiling wildly as it coursed over the rocks, all the time pulling to the right. While this was happening they heard no cry from Thegn: only the ceaseless roar of the rapids. Within moments the rope had reached its full extent, coming to an abrupt halt and straining hard at its anchor. Immediately, Tostig gave the order for a second line to be added to the first. It was paid out steadily, and by degrees the tension lessened until at last the rope lay freely across the void. Then, after a further period of waiting, they received two sharp tugs from the other end.
“That was the agreed signal,” announced Tostig. “He has made it safely.”
To celebrate, he asked Thorsson to return to the Lintel Rock and fetch a flask of spirits from the supply tent. Also four little cups. A few minutes later they stood above the torrent and toasted the triumphs of the voyage so far. Then Snaebjorn asked if he could speak to Tostig in private.
“It may be of minor importance,” he said. “But there’s something I think you ought to know.”
§
Alone at the far side of the river, Thegn secured his line and sat down to rest. He had succeeded only by accident, having lost his footing whilst perched on a boulder halfway across. From there he’d been swept along by the current before suddenly pulling up short when the rope ran out. He had then remained suspended in midstream for a full minute until being released again, eventually casting up battered and bruised on a stony shoal. Only good fortune had prevented him from plunging over the falls, and only after a further struggle had he managed to reach the opposite bank. Now he sat at the top of a low cliff, wet through and temporarily isolated from his comrades. A weak attempt to call in their direction brought no reply, and he in turn heard nothing from them. After a while, however, there came three tugs on the line. Standing up, he repeated the two tugs he had given earlier. The three tugs came again and at once he began hauling, bringing in first his own original line, then the extra length that had been added to it. Finally he drew towards him a much thicker, heavier rope. This he fastened to a rock before signalling with another two tugs. The rope was then pulled tight from the other end, so that it hung like a bridge across the river. The sight of it caused a thin smile to cross Thegn’s lips. After another brief rest he began making his way back to where he’d started, hand over hand along the rope, his feet dangling above the churning waters. The return journey took a minute or so. When at last he came in view of the other four men, they were gathered together in a group examining some object which, on seeing him, they immediately hid away. He swung the final few yards towards them and dropped to the ground.
“Ah, Thegn,” said Tostig. “You’re just in time to help us with the mules. It’s going to be a long job conveying them all to the opposite side so we’d better get started directly.” He glanced into the chasm. “I suppose it’s a blessing that the visibility is so poor; otherwise they would be certain to panic. Now is this rope quite secure at the other end?”
Thegn assured him that it was, and then Thorsson was asked to bring up the first mule from the camp at Lintel Rock. Meanwhile, Thegn was sent back along the ropeway with a secondary line. The moment Thorsson arrived with the mule, Snaebjorn seized it by one ear and forced it to the ground. Quickly it was trussed up and rendered immobile, then slung under the rope and hauled across the river. Guthrum had joined Thegn on the far bank and was charged with leading each mule away. The process of moving them one by one was necessarily slow, but after a couple of hours the men had succeeded in getting all ten mules transferred. Next came the packs containing the food supplies, followed by the tents and the rest of the equipment. The last items to be brought over were the recently filled water canisters. By now Thegn had made the crossing several times in order to assist the operation at both ends, and was at present working alone with Snaebjorn on the southern bank. As the canisters were dispatched, he commented that it would really have made more sense to replenish them on the new side of the river, rather than the old.
“As if it’s any of your business,” said Snaebjorn.
“What do you mean?” asked Thegn.
“Simply that you have a marked tendency to pry. A trait that has not passed unnoticed.”
“By whom?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
Without another word, Snaebjorn took to the ropeway and began making his way along it. Thegn followed close behind. When they reached the opposite bank, Tostig, Guthrum and Thorsson were waiting for them. The majority of equipment had been moved further inland so that a new camp could be established. Nearby, however, there still remained three packing cases. These had been placed side by side in a row, and a lamp hung from a pole above them.
“Is that everything now?” enquired Tostig.
“Yes,” replied Snaebjorn. “I’ve checked the whole site and it’s quite clear.”
“Very good, Snaebjorn. You’ve done a first-class piece of work. Maybe you could begin preparing supper?”
“Right you are.”
As Snaebjorn turned and headed for the shadows, Thegn made to follow him.
“Just a moment, Thegn,” said Tostig.
“Sir?”
“Come and stand before me, please.”
Thegn complied.
“Is something the matter?” he asked.
“We have yet to discover.” Tostig paused and regarded Thegn for a long moment before continuing. “Thegn, it has been brought to my notice that you keep amongst your belongings a copy of the Ship’s Manual.”
“Ah,” replied Thegn.
“A brief search has confirmed the fact.”
“Yes. It would.”
“Are you not aware that this contravenes regulations; that you may have put the ship and its company in peril; and that therefore you have placed yourself under suspicion of conspiracy?”
“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
“Ignorance of the regulations is no excuse,” said Tostig. “I’m afraid your case will have to be heard by a tribunal. This will be convened at once. Your judges will be Guthrum, Thorsson and myself.”
At a given signal, the three senior figures moved into the circle of light and sat down on the packing cases, the lamp shining above their heads. Then Tostig declared that the tribunal was in session.
“Incidentally,” he added. “You may wish to know that it was Snaebjorn who denounced you.”
“Yes,” said Thegn. “I guessed it might have been.”
After a short consultation with his colleagues, Tostig produced the manual from his pocket and held it before him.
“Firstly,” he began. “How did you come to lay your hands on this?”
“I borrowed it,” Thegn answered.
“Without seeking permission?”
“I didn’t think I needed permission.”
“Why not?”
“Well, bec
ause…” Thegn hesitated. “Because it belongs to my uncle.”
“And it didn’t occur to you that your ‘uncle’ might object?”
“No, it didn’t.”
“Or that it could have fallen into the wrong hands?”
“But there’s nobody here except us.”
“That makes no difference,” said Tostig. “The ship is our only lifeline back to civilisation; consequently, the manual must stay with the ship. To bring it inland suggests an ulterior motive. Were you planning, for example, to take command of the vessel on our return journey, so that you could claim credit for the success of the expedition?”
“Of course not.”
“Can you prove that you weren’t?”
“No.”
“Were you working under instruction from another agency?”
“Again no.”
“Not Johns?”
“Certainly not Johns.”
“Then who?”
“Nobody.”
“So why did you borrow the manual?”
“It’s only a copy.”
“Nevertheless…”
“Dammit, I was just trying to show some interest!” cried Thegn suddenly, his eyes ablaze. “I merely wanted to further my knowledge of this marvellous enterprise we’re involved in! To study it in every aspect; to understand it in all its detail; and to be there when we plant the flag at our destination! The Agreed Furthest Point! Even the name of it spells adventure! No one has ever been there before and it’s the opportunity of a lifetime! I know I wasn’t your first choice, but I’ve done all I can to be a useful member of the team! I’ve hardly slept for weeks and today I risked my neck finding a way across the river! Yet despite my good deeds, my hard work and my attention to duty, I find myself accused of conspiracy! I tell you it’s simply not fair!”
In the moments that followed Thegn’s outburst, the only sound came from the relentless waters cascading below. All else was quiet. During the past hour the night had deepened, intensifying the glow of the lamplight against the surrounding gloom. The three members of the tribunal said nothing, but sat gazing into the darkness with their arms folded. Thegn, meanwhile, remained standing where he was, and glared balefully at his inquisitors. Not until another minute had elapsed did Tostig break the silence.
