by Guy Antibes
Mira thought for a minute. “The boats don’t have sails.”
“Leave that to me,” Shiro said. “When do you want to leave?”
Abe and Mira looked alarmed. Perhaps the thought of leaving sunk in. “Four days,” Abe said.
“Five!” Mira’s face held a trace of panic. Shiro wondered why, but he agreed.
“Five days, then.” A thought popped into his head. “Mira’s back spasms are caused by something serious, right? Let a guard or even Riku know, then they won’t be surprised by her death.”
Abe’s forehead beaded with perspiration. Fear? “I’ll do it,” he said and then shook his finger at Shiro. “You make sure you do your part!”
Do his part! Shiro decided to use the library in the storehouse. He found a bolt of the material used for the drapes and long poles for rakes he would use for the mast. He could magically bind the drapes and wrap something around the poles for the mast and two more for a spar. If he put a hole in one of the seats and used the rocks put into Mira’s shroud to anchor the mast to the bottom of the boat, they’d have their vessel. He could sneak out at night and have the boat ready in the morning. It all seemed so simple.
~~~
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
~
WHILE OUT GATHERING HERBS, Shiro decided to collect food for their trip. Berries were giving the last of their bounty before fall set in, but there seemed to be more rabbits about. He recovered his sword and took a sack of food towards the southern end of the island. The woods grew right up to a set of small cliffs that ran around the southern end of the island. He found a small shingle filled with black pebbles. He’d hide the food and his sword up in the woods and pick it up after the three of them escaped. They would circle around and pick the supplies up and then they’d be underway.
A small stream that fed a waterfall down to the shingle would be Shiro’s marker. He’d try to smuggle a few waterskins from the storehouse and fill them up at the stream. By this time tomorrow, he’d be off the island and, again, regretted that Boreko wouldn’t be joining him.
Feeling more prepared, he made his way through the forest to the grazing lands on the island and made it to the camp. After unloading a few rabbits off at the kitchen shack, he brought medicinal herbs to Abe.
“Change of plans. Mira is on the table,” Abe said.
The change in plans made Shiro nervous. He had to do something to soothe his nerves, so he decided to invoke the magic suppression spell. He tossed herbs on an empty sleeping mat and opened the drapes. Mira, as the old woman, sat on the table, but Riku, Grandmaster Yushidon and Roniki looked at him.
“So you were going to escape, eh?” Riku said. “And I trusted you.”
Shiro felt his face flush. But then he thought what more could they do to him? He was already on a prison island and he couldn’t transport. All they had to do was keep him off of a boat.
“What have I done that violated that trust?”
“You conspired with Abe and Mira to escape.”
Shiro ground his teeth. Father and daughter both had their arms folded with smug smiles on their faces.
“I didn’t promise you that I’d never escape.”
Roniki sneered. “It’s time to put an end to your foolishness as Abe put an end to Boreko. We should have never let Ashiyo talk us into sparing your miserable life.”
“Abe killed Boreko under your orders?” Shiro glared at Yushidon.
“I don’t have to answer that,” Yushidon said. “Actually Roniki made that decision without my permission. What’s done is done.”
Riku took out a pair of manacles, but before he could get it on Shiro’s wrists, Shiro backed out and left the infirmary. Flames appeared on Shiro’s back and he created a tiny storm to put them out, then he turned around and used every ounce of power that he had to create a tornado. Clouds darkened and gathered instantly and the wind began to swirl harder and harder as Shiro walked towards the boat, not turning his back on his adversaries. He threw fireballs at the sorcerers. Shiro wouldn’t let them put him to sleep like they had at Ashiyo’s house. Roniki winked out of existence and then Yushidon. Abe, Mira and Riku stood at the entrance of the infirmary, clutching the doorposts.
Shiro refused to be taken. Panic began to take over his thinking as he increased the tornado’s wind speed, then he guided the tornado back as it pulled him up. He fought to control the maelstrom as it picked up the boat and moved the tornado out to sea. His powers were quickly dissipating as he gradually slowed the winds. He grabbed onto the boat as his magic left him. He fell into the ocean, in sight of the island and swam to the overturned boat. He climbed on the top and collapsed.
Raindrops woke Shiro up in the darkness. He slid off the boat and used his still-faint powers to raise the boat and flip it over. He climbed aboard. Nothing had remained in the boat. His body felt like he’d been thoroughly beaten. Perhaps that would make Riku feel better. He opened his mouth and let the rain fall into it.
He sat back in the boat and wondered what he’d do now? The clouds began to clear and the moonlight revealed the prison island off to his left. Shiro looked up into the skies as the stars began to shine. The island sat three or four hundred paces east of him. He tried to create a bit of wind, but he had little power left, so he slipped over the side of the boat and began to kick his legs. Shiro hoped the spell that kept them from finding his power had remained. They would think him dead.
He’d push the boat back to the island if he possibly could. After an agonizing night in the ocean, the day dawned as Shiro pulled the boat on top of rocky sandbar at the back of the island. The tide had begun to recede and Shiro would have a few hours to get up the cliff to find something to propel him westward to where he had hidden his supplies. His lack of trust of Abe and Mira had proven correct. He had surmised they might do something on their trip to the South Isle, but… He shook his head. They had been in league with Yushidon and Roniki. A message had to have gone out and a sorcerer transported to the Guild and Yushidon and Roniki returned. Why didn’t they just kill him on the spot? Perhaps they had something worse than a simple killing in mind.
Both of then had transported away at the hint of difficulty. Such cowards! The pair possessed not a shred of honor. Other than trying to burn his back, they flitted away. Why hadn’t the flames burned him? His mind quickly reviewed his escape. The magic suppression spell that Mira taught him? It must have given him a little bit of magical armor. He’d never read of such a thing, but then he had to admit he only accumulated less than a year’s worth of instruction at the Guild.
Shiro reached the top of the cliff and quickly found the stream to slake his thirst. He found a few thin trees and pulled them out of the ground. Perhaps the roots might help move the water. He sat down next to a berry bush and munched on berries while he rested.
Shiro found his sword and the food. He couldn’t go any further in his condition. He woke at every sound, but something larger moved in the brush. He unwrapped his sword and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. The moonlight reflected off of the eyes of something bigger than a rabbit. He heard a growl. A boar! A few lived on this back side of the island.
Shiro backed up as the boar approached. The animal shook its head displaying long tusks. Shiro tried to create a tiny storm, but only a few clouds appeared. The boar snorted the mist away. His magic just couldn’t be relied on in his condition after the tornado. He could have released his suppression spell, but then a sorcerer might know that he survived the tornado.
More growling and then the boar pawed the ground and charged. Shiro backed up and tripped on a root. He dropped the sword as the boar bounced into him. A tusk pierced his thigh, but Shiro grasped the sword’s blade where he had wrapped it over the Sunstone. He thrust the blade down into the boar’s neck as if he held a long knife. The boar squealed and tried to back away as Shiro kept stabbing the animal until the squealing stopped.
He lay on his back. Adrenaline had moved him, not magic, but now his physical strength was
gone as well. He tore the bottom of his shirt and wrapped it around his thigh. He wished his magic had recharged, and then he could heal his wound. He sighed as he picked up his sword by the wrapped part of the blade and felt a trickle of power. The stone!
Shiro unwrapped the sword. He sat up, holding the blade and touching the stone as magical energy began to trickle into him. Weariness overcame his revived powers as he laid back and then fell asleep.
The calling of birds woke him. The sky had barely begun to lighten as he sat up, his hand still holding the sword. The boar remained a few paces from where he lay. He drew a flame and knew his power had been recharged, how much he didn’t know. He successfully closed the wound on his thigh.
With the sky still dark, he used his sword to cut spits for the rabbits he had hidden and the boar. He cleaned them all well and made a fire. The sky was too dark to reveal the smoke and the forest too dense to show the fire. While his meat cooked, he scraped the skins of the rabbits and the boar. Even if the boar skin didn’t cover too much space, it would be better to use that as a sail than paddling all the way to South Isle.
With the sword, Shiro made quick work of cutting poles for paddles and a crude spar and mast. He threw the wood down on the shingle beach from the cliff and fashioned a sack out of two of the rabbit skins and the boar skin. The last rabbit skin had been cut into strips for bindings.
Even though the boar might not be cooked through, Shiro didn’t want the fire to continue to throw smoke in the air, so he used power to finish the meat. He stripped large leaves from the foliage and began to wrap the meat and cleaned up his makeshift camp so no one would ever know he had been back on the island. After drinking his fill from the stream, he made his way down to the shingle. He used his power to attach the mast and rocks to secure it to the bottom of the boat. He made one paddle and would make another one, once he shoved off, so he’d have oars if his magic failed.
Taking a last look up the cliff, Shiro pushed the boat off of the shingle and fought the waves for fifty paces or so and paddled further out into the ocean. He raised the boar skin sail and called up enough wind to move the boat westward. He’d follow the island until the shore turned eastward again and then he’d head north to South Isle and freedom.
The boat continued north at a slow pace. Shiro couldn’t hazard falling asleep since he had to man the makeshift oar that now acted as a rudder. His time on Mistokko’s vessel had given him a very basic understanding of seamanship and had hardened him to seasickness.
The boar actually tasted good and Shiro decided to use a little magic to heat it back up as he held it on a stick. He didn’t have any water skins, so he had to rely on his tiny storms to remove water out of the air.
He had to lower the sail, which he had mounted high on the mast, when he spotted other vessels on the open ocean, but he kept his bearing and after a day and a half at sea, he could see the dark line of the South Isle on the horizon. Not knowing where he would make landfall and wanting to be as far away from Sekkoro as possible, Shiro headed due west.
Another day of dodging watercraft wore on Shiro. He felt exposed on the water and decided he had travelled far enough from Sekkoro. He found a small sandy beach to land. He dragged his boat all the way up the beach and far into the brush. He would have to re-provision for the trip to the North Isle.
The sky turned gray and it began to rain. Shiro could now feel a small close-by nexus recharge his powers. He levitated the boat upside down and propped it up with one of his poles and started a fire with his wood. He heated up his meat using natural heat and ate the rest of his berries. The day darkened and he lay out underneath his craft and slept.
The sun woke him up, but something stood in front of the light. He felt a foot nudge the back of his foot.
~~~
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
~
SHIRO PANICKED AND TURNED HIS BACK to whoever had touched him and changed his appearance. Now looking like Kinoru, he growled to whoever disturbed him. “Don’t bother me, I’m tired!”
“Where did you get that boat?”
“Is it yours?” Shiro said. “I found it here and used it for shelter from last night’s rain.” Kinoru had always been a surly sort and he would emulate his friend’s behavior.
Shiro climbed out from underneath the boat and looked into the eyes of two fishermen.
The men squinted at Shiro. “What are you doing in Upio?”
“Is that where I am? I’ve been wandering for so long, I have no idea where I am.” Shiro gave them a silly grin. “Do you need a field hand? That’s what I do. I can drive a cart!”
A hand grabbed his shoulder. “This boat has writing on it. That’s no fishing boat.”
Shiro didn’t like the attitudes of the two men. He shrugged. “A peasant such as I can’t read. I have some meat. Would you join me for breakfast?”
The expressions on the fishermen’s faces softened. “Meat?”
“I found a dead boar and have managed to catch some rabbits. There is some of each. A worker’s got to eat, you know.”
“Indeed. Show us the meat and we will start a fire.”
“I’ve already cooked some of it, so you just have to heat it up. Is there any water around here?”
“Just up the pathway,” one said.
Shiro slid back underneath the boat and brought out the remains of his leaf-wrapped meat. “Here it is!” He shoved it out underneath and threw some dirt over his sword.
Much relieved, he sat down with the fishermen who both preferred the boar meat. Shiro had hoped he could have used it for a few more days, but filling these fishermen’s stomachs seemed to be a good investment.
“Any farms around here?” Shiro said, making sure he filled his stomach as much as his guests.
“Not for the likes of you. We can’t help you anyway, since we are fishermen. We’re all working people down here. No one hires anybody. We all have lots of children who do the work for free!” The two laughed. Most of the farmers in Koriaki pursued the same strategy. How many children would Shiro have by now? The oldest could do little more than play at weeding between the rows when he died. He sighed at the memory.
“Then where should I go?”
Head north for an hour or so to the main road and then follow it towards Rumoto. They’ve got the most fertile fields on the South Isle. Shiro put out his hand for another morsel on the boar’s carcass and nearly withdrew his hand. The tattoo that the Guild had put on this wrist would show him to be property of the Guild, but in Kinoru’s guise, no tattoo showed. He’d have to remember that or try to remove the tattoo with magic.
“What else do you have?” one of the farmers said, pointing the knife that he had used to cut meat from the boar carcass. It was only a shard of metal with cloth wrapped around the tang. It had an edge and would damage him enough.
Shiro raised his hands. “A few personal possessions, nothing more. I have no money. Why would I be out here underneath someone else’s boat if I had anything of value?”
“Go get everything.” The friendliness that had come to the men disappeared. They meant to kill him. Shiro refused to use magic against a non-magician. He scrabbled back under the boat and uncovered his sword. Wouldn’t they be surprised?
“Come out!” the other fisherman said. Both of them were now on their feet and Shiro could only see up to their knees from underneath. “Now, or we will kill you!”
How many other travelers had these men robbed and plundered? Shiro took a few deep breaths and levitated the boat. It floated above his head as he struck out with his sword. Even with his clumsiness with the Sunstone sword, the pair laid at his feet in a moment.
Shiro took a deep breath and knelt down by each one, asking for forgiveness. He had no other alternative but to kill them. They were his first, not counting the man with the fever and his unwitting contribution to Boreko’s death. With hindsight, he could tell the men were set on killing him from the beginning. They just wanted Shiro to cook them a proper break
fast first.
He didn’t like this start to his freedom and felt manacles of guilt tighten around his wrists. Why had the gods given him Affinity? It killed his wife and led to the deaths of Boreko, the feverish man, and now these two men. He sighed.
The pair had no more possessions on them than he, except for a purse on each of them with a few coins. They wouldn’t need those in the future and Shiro reluctantly put the coins in one of the simple cloth purses and left after re-wrapping his sword in the boar skin along with clothes from the dead men to hide the shape. He used rabbit skin strips to bind the sword and made a strap, that wouldn’t hold up for long, to sling it over his back. He’d head north until he could find a track heading west.
He used his power to dig a large hole. He laid both of the men in the boat, covered them with leaves and then replaced the dirt. He replanted the bushes that had grown over the hole and used his power to water and revitalize them. Would that they had been Abe, Mira, Yushidon or Roniki. He couldn’t help grinding his teeth at the revelation that Abe had killed Boreko on orders from Roniki. Yet, he had killed these two men who both might have had families. What was the difference? Shiro wished he could take all of his worries and bury them with the two fishermen, but that wouldn’t happen.
If fishermen were as ruthless as this pair, Shiro would have to reconsider taking the boat north. He’d head for Rumoto, for he had no other strategy other than to get as far away from Sekkoro and Ashiyo as he could. Roniki and Yushidon wouldn’t return to the prison island if they thought Shiro was dead. He wondered if Mira had ever told them about her shield spell. He could only hope she had kept that as a secret, in fact he didn’t even know if they knew she had Affinity. He recalled that she had remained in her disguise the entire time of the confrontation.
He cut down a pole to use as a staff and his spirits lifted a bit as he found the west road after emerging from the woods that rimmed the coast. He looked at his wrist. In his guise, the tattoo didn’t show but Shiro wanted it removed. He tried to recall if a sorcerer had applied the ink. No… it had been a guard. Perhaps he could use magic to remove it.
