The group ahead had reached the shallows, and many of them had already stood and begun wading toward shore when Udra screamed and was pulled under. The men shot toward her, looking down through the water, but they could not find her.
Nikandr and Jahalan reached them soon after. The serpents tried to attack them again, but there were enough now that had knives, and they stayed between the rest of the group and the serpents, protecting them when the vicious creatures came close.
Everyone dragged themselves onto the black beach, which was blessedly warm after the frigid waves. Nikandr pulled off his shirt, cut it into strips, and had one of the crewmen wrap his arm as best he could. Then he moved to Jahalan, who lay on the beach, his face nearly as pale as the serpents.
Jahalan’s right leg was bleeding heavily, and Nikandr wondered how much he had lost in the water. Nikandr moved to his side, and held his arm while Pietr and Ervan worked diligently on his leg.
“It will be fine,” Nikandr said.
Jahalan’s eyes shut tight as the men used a belt to cut off the blood flow just below his knee. When he opened his eyes again, he was frightened, though much less than Nikandr would have been in his place. Seeming to overcome some of the pain and fear, he smiled. “My time may have come.”
Nikandr shook his head. “ Nyet. Not here, my friend. Not now.”
He fell unconscious moments later.
Ervan, a thin man with curly brown hair, held the belt in place and nodded toward Jahalan’s ankle. “We won’t be able to staunch this wound, Kapitan. He’ll die tonight if it isn’t cut and sewn properly.”
Nikandr swallowed. “We don’t have the equipment to amputate.”
“ Da. We have nothing proper, but we can get thread easy enough, and Pietr can fashion a needle from a buckle.”
“What good is a needle that large going to do him? He’ll be bleeding as badly from the puncture wounds as he is right now.”
Ervan shook his head violently. “ Nyet, Kapitan. We’ll need to bind it tightly for a time, but it will hold. Against this”-he tipped his head toward Jahalan’s ankle-“we have no chance.”
Pietr and Ervan watched him expectantly. The other men were nearby, waiting for his decision. “Do it quickly,” he said finally, “and by the ancients be careful.”
Nikandr was good at starting a fire without flint, but Pietr, a hard man with several deep scars running along the left side of his face, was even better. From the rough bark of the tall fern trees near the shore, he fashioned tinder and then made a bow drill from some branches and twine they liberated from some of the canvas that had washed ashore. Other men collected fresh water in huge conch shells from a tidal pool and placed it over the fire to boil. Soon they had purified water that they used to sterilize the thread and needle.
The surgery was not quick, at least not by Nikandr’s recollection. He stopped by from time to time, but it was difficult seeing Jahalan losing a limb like this. He didn’t know how he would tell him when he finally woke, but he knew he would be the one to do it. He owed him that much-to look at him in the face and tell him what this journey had done to him.
If only he could do the same for Udra and Viggen and the other men… But he could not, and he would have to live with the knowledge that their deaths lay at his feet.
At last the surgery was complete. Jahalan’s leg was bound with strips they had boiled and let dry in the strong wind. They would make more, and hopefully in a day or two the worst would be over-for Jahalan, at least.
Nikandr and Pietr sat near the fire late that night, neither of them able to sleep. Pietr had been second mate in his haphazardly chosen crew, but he’d proven himself to be a good man. Nikandr had sailed with him several times before, but they’d never had a chance to speak at any length.
Jahalan was sleeping soundly, and though his heart seemed weak, the quick work that Ervan had made of the wound had probably saved his life.
“What are we to do?” Pietr asked while staring off toward the horizon-eastward, toward home.
Nikandr poked the fire, causing the logs to shift and sparks to drift on the brisk night wind. “Take stock of our surroundings. Build shelter.”
“Forgive me, my Prince, but that is not what I meant. How will we return home? No one knows where we’ve gone. Even your mother, may the ancients watch over her, will not be able to find us.”
“I know what you meant, but we have the men to consider first. We make shelter, we prepare defenses, and we take what the ancients provide for us.”
“But with no ship…”
“I know. The man we were chasing, it seems, is now our sole source of hope. We will search for him as well. He will be headed for Alayazhr, and so shall we.”
“With his ship, he’ll already be there.”
“Don’t be so sure. This place-if legend is to be believed-is wild, untamable. Greater men than Ashan have tried over the centuries.”
Pietr nodded. “If we come across his trail, Lord, I’ll be able to lead you to him. Have no doubt of that.”
In the morning, Nikandr waited as long as he could, hoping that Jahalan would wake so that he could speak with him, even if only for a short time, but the need to find Ashan was more pressing by far than comforting his old friend, and so he left with Pietr and two other men: Kirilai and Oleg.
They forged their way through dense growth near the shore, but this soon gave way to an ancient forest with a tall canopy high above them. The temperature soon forced them to remove their shirts. The smell of rotting wood filled the oppressive air. Small, biting insects plagued them as Pietr led the way, using a short but serviceable sword to hack a path through the undergrowth.
They came to a sharp rise and were about to follow it upward to higher ground when the earth began to shake beneath their feet. It soon became clear that it was coming closer, so they hid behind the fallen trunk of a massive, decaying tree.
Nikandr glanced to his right and saw his own fear reflected in the face of Kirilai. Ahead, a flock of white birds with long blue tails took flight and flapped noisily away. The ground thrummed. The palm fronds they were peering through fluttered in time, and soon they saw it-a hulking body made of dark earth took long strides toward them. It had four stout arms and two massive legs that looked like the ripped-up roots of trees more than they did earth. The creature-some sort of vanahezhan-slowed and finally came to a stop, as if its mass were incapable of concise movement. It scanned the forest, and Nikandr had the distinct impression it was looking for them. He knew, as did the other men, that there would be no fighting this thing. They had two pistols among them, and a fair amount of shot, but without a good deal of iron or an Aramahn qiram to protect them, their only real choices were to hide or flee.
They remained stock still as the creature lumbered forward. It lowered its bulk to its arms so that it was resting on all six appendages like some huge earthen insect. Four pits within the head twinkled like gems as it moved its head back and forth, and Nikandr wondered if this were its equivalent to smelling-akin to what Berza would do while hunting grouse.
Nikandr swallowed as it scrabbled forward, moving its head back and forth. Along the vanahezhan’s soil-skin were tiny green plants with toothed leaves that opened like a clam shell. As the creature swayed, some of them clamped down, catching tiny insects in their jaws.
Next to him, Kirilai’s breath was coming in short gasps. Nikandr squeezed his forearm, willing him to remain silent. But when the creature took another step forward, it became too much. Kirilai stood and sprinted away.
The vanahezhan galloped forward and leapt easily over the tall log. Kirilai, in his panic, released a long, high-pitched wail. He ran behind a tree, and Nikandr lost sight of him for a moment, but the galloping mound of earth caught up to him on the far side, downing him and stepping on his chest with one huge leg. Blood spouted from Kirilai’s mouth, cutting off his scream just as the report of a pistol rang out. A puff of dirt exploded near the top of the creature’s head. With one foot still pressed down onto the caved chest of Kirilai, it slowly turned its head. All four pits of glittering eyes seemed to be trained on their location. Oleg stood next to Nikandr, staring at the beast, chest heaving. “What have you done?” Nikandr said as he snatched the pistol away.