"There's someone in the shallows, sir! Light ahead!"
Chapter 15
To depend solely on a single food source is to risk starvation. -Ruder Dunn, farmer
Near complete darkness hindered the crew's efforts to find a clear path when entering the shallows. Though the firelight was still distant, it cast dancing reflections across the water, making it even more difficult to find obstacles. In a bold spectacle, the sharks pursued the ship into the shallows. At times it seemed they would surely become trapped in the sand, yet they remained a threat.
"Bring out the spears!" Kenward ordered. "There's no place for them to hide in the shallows, and I want them to feel our sting!"
Catrin watched as crewmen leveled long spears at the sharks. Some simply stabbed at those that drew too close, others threw their spears with all their strength into the sharks that circled the ship. Most had little effect or simply missed their mark, but one landed a mortal blow. The badly injured shark thrashed wildly, churning the water, and its brethren turned on it, quickly tearing it apart. The grisly display made Catrin's stomach churn as she imagined what it would feel like to be pulled apart. Deeply disturbed, she kept her eyes toward the firelight.
The closer they came, the larger the fire grew, as if feeding off their very energy. Occasionally, a dark silhouette blocked out parts of the fire, but little more could be seen. When finally the sharks were left behind, Kenward slowed the ship. "It would be risky to go any farther in these conditions," he said. "We could do it if that fire wasn't ruining our night vision. I want to know who started it."
"You're starting to show the wisdom of a seasoned captain," Nora said.
"If you call being scared out of my shorts wisdom, then I guess it's so."
"Fool boy."
"Drop the boats," Kenward said. "Arm yourselves and be ready for a fight. I've no doubt they know we're here, and they may be laying in wait."
Despite the fact that whoever it was probably already knew they were coming, the crew did their best to remain silent. After the boats had been lowered, Catrin stood next to Chase, waiting her turn to climb down. "You stay here," he said. "We'll go find out what's going on."
"Not a chance," Catrin said, and she grabbed the railing and jumped over. Scrambling down the boarding net, she gave no one else the opportunity to dissuade her. Waiting on the ship would have been pure torture; better to see for herself.
Farsy climbed into the boat with her, handed her an oar, and dipped his own. Soon they glided through the relatively calm waters. The fire could be seen through the withered remains of saltbark trees, many of which appeared to have been smothered in volcanic ash. An oily film coated the water and at times was so thick that it clung to their oars. As they moved past a small island, their view of the fire was finally unobstructed, though there seemed to be no one about.
"Do you see anyone?" Farsy asked in a whisper.
"No," Catrin said. The fire was built on a wooden platform that extended between the roots of a saltbark tree and a nearby rock outcropping. Looking back to the other boats waiting in the distance, she saw Chase slip into the dark water.
"Looks like a trap," Chase said. "Hold back." He and Bryn used their oars to slow the boat, keeping it in relative darkness. "Wait here." Flexing the muscles of his arms and shoulders, Chase silently lowered himself into the water. With his belt knife between his teeth, he slipped beneath the surface.
Swimming as far as he could on a single breath, Chase moved to the other side of the fire, and there he slowly broke the surface. Not far away, someone else watched from the water. Giving them no time to escape him, Chase moved closer. With one swift motion, he brought his knife up to the man's throat. "One move and I give my knife a good yank."
Behind him the water stirred, and Chase had no time to react before the tip of a crude spear was driven under his chin, slamming his mouth shut.
"One move and you'll be a head on a stick."
Trying to locate Chase again, having lost sight of him when he went underwater, Catrin looked about, cursing the darkness and the light. A commotion on the far side of the platform got her attention, and she leaned out far, trying to get a better look.
"By the gods! Is it you?" came Chase's voice over the water. "Benjin! Fasha!"
Still overextended, Catrin's knees buckled, and she nearly fell face-first into the water, but Farsy grabbed her and pulled her back into the boat. Their boat swayed, nearly capsizing, but Catrin looked up in time to see Benjin climb from the water.
Standing on the platform, the flames casting a rosy glow over him; he looked nothing like the man Catrin remembered. Long, mostly gray hair was plastered to his face and fell to his shoulders. His beard, which he had always kept trimmed, was now long and straggly. Thinner, but still well muscled, he wore only a loincloth.
A moment later, Fasha and Chase joined him. She wore little more than Benjin, and her skin shone like gold. Catrin could form no words and began to sob. A wave of relief crashed over her, and she tumbled in the surf. Only Farsy's strong hands kept her from falling over, and she clung to him, overwhelmed by emotion.
"I'm here, li'l miss!" Benjin said, his voice rough and gravelly. Catrin could take no more. Standing, she jumped into the water and swam as fast as she could to meet Benjin, who immediately swam to meet her. When at last they touched, Catrin latched on to him and would not let go. Still sobbing, she clung to him all the way back to the Slippery Eel.
"I thought you were dead," she said haltingly. "We searched-"
"I know you did, li'l miss. I know. The currents carried us away, and though we saw you, you could not see us. You never made it close enough to hear us, but we know you tried."
As the water slipped by, Catrin looked up the see a dryad peeking around her saltbark tree. With a silent thank you, Catrin closed her eyes and cried.
Shaved, washed, and clothed, Benjin looked more like the man Catrin remembered, but the gray dominating his hair and beard made him look much older. As he raised a mug of water, his hand trembled, and she tried to hide her concern.
"A few planks of my deck held together," Fasha said. "Benjin and I used it as a raft and paddled our way back to the shallows. We nearly lost the raft when the cloud of fire came. We both ducked underwater and held our breath for as long as we could. When we came back up, the raft was far away."
"Fasha is a strong swimmer," Benjin said, pride in his eyes. "She caught up to it and brought it back to me."
"You could've caught it yourself," Fasha said, "if you hadn't already begun to take a chill. Thought I was going to lose him for a while there, but the saltbark leaf seemed to help a great deal-that and being dry and warm."
"Wood was hard to find," Benjin said, "and neither of us wanted to be without a fire. When I was strong enough, we swam to the Zjhon ship and, each day, we brought back more wood. The Zjhon had fairly well stripped the ship of anything else of use, but we were happy to burn what was left."
"I wanted to build a boat and sail back into trade waters, but Benjin insisted you would come back. Thank the gods he was right. Otherwise, I might've had to feed him to the sharks."
Catrin told the tale of their adventures. Benjin and Fasha listened, obviously having a difficult time believing all they heard. As if he knew when his name was being spoken, Prios joined them, keeping his eyes downcast.
"Do not fear us," Benjin said. "You helped save Catrin, and for that I'll always be grateful."
Prios bowed his head to Benjin and Fasha then slipped into the shadows, seemingly reluctant to be the focus of attention. When Catrin began to tell more of Kyrien, a hush fell over the room, and Benjin looked thoughtful. "You're attached to this dragon in some way?" he asked.