Ngangi sent one of the leaders, Turab, at noon to relay his permission to depart. After gathering some supplies, food, water and weapons, we began our journey. There was fear in my friends’ eyes when we started out early afternoon. Anticipation in my gut overrode every other emotion.
The waves rose and crashed with their typical fury as I headed into the wind. Tilly and Viveka struggled to keep up and were unusually quiet as they followed in their own vessels. I stayed ahead, rowing close to the shore of our own farrin to avoid the more vicious waves in the deeper depths of the Talulah Sea. We crossed into open water where I knew the wind and pounding waves were the least threatening as we made our way to the next land mass.
Talbot Farrin is deserted and was stripped bare by our raiding army many years ago. A few things grow there and we travel to the farrin on occasion to harvest what we can. I didn’t bother to stop but kept rowing, hugging the rugged coastline to avoid the rough waters farther out.
On the far side of Talbot Farrin I could see the next land mass over, Harim. From earliest times, all the stories that have been passed down, it has been said that Harim Farrin has always been barren, with no man or animal able to tolerate the island. I believe it’s because of its close proximity to Tarmon that no one inhabits it. Who would want to? Fear of Tarmon keeps everyone away.
Akoni Farrin, where I live, is one of the closest inhabited land masses to Tarmon. Our nearness to the feared farrin hasn’t been detrimental to our numbers or our survival. We have a flourishing clan with an impressive population, over five hundred at the last count. We’ve been steadily growing in the last ten years, according to the word of our historian, Cato. She’s the oldest woman of our clan, nearing fifty years. She has a penchant for numbers, tracking our successes, past and present, and for documenting everything anyone can remember that has been passed down from generation to generation.
Cato took up residence in one of the caves higher up on the eastern mountain range. This is where she stores all of her precious recordings, historical writings and the result of all the interviews she has done. She questioned my mother once but Cato decided my mother was insane and gave up on it.
Ngangi has little patience for Cato but our previous leader valued her writings and historical documents. He believed that one day it would be a benefit. Ngangi’s only objective is warring and taking control over the farrins which surround us. If he could take over every other land mass, he would. He’s already conquered two, decimated every human and moved some of our clan there to begin new settlements. Of course, their numbers are also included in our population records.
We reached the shallow waters of Harim Farrin and hugged the coastline as we navigated around the land mass to the far side. Once we arrived at the point where we needed to head out to rough seas once again I stopped and caught my breath. Our journey had left all of us winded.
“We should stop here and eat something,” suggested Tilly.
“We’ve been keeping a relentless pace,” Viveka said. Sweat beaded her forehead.
I looked off into the distance, over the sea, where a thick, dark fog obliterated what lay beyond. It would take us another few hours to reach it and although I felt eager to go, I knew it was wise to give my friends a break.
I nodded and pointed my boat toward shore, allowing my vessel to coast till the bottom scraped the sandy beach. We pulled our vessels farther onto the sand, grabbed our food bags, our water canteens and sat together on the beach eating and staring at the mysterious, heavy mist off in the distance.
Tilly finally broke the silence. “What do you think you’ll see on Tarmon?”
“I’m not sure.”
“You’re not afraid to go?”
“A little.”
“You can always change your mind, come back with us.”
“I’m going.”
Viveka said, “I’ve wanted to ask you something and haven’t had the courage until now.”
Turning to her, I said, “Go ahead.”
“You’re house, weapons and your possessions, who will inherit them if you don’t return?”
“I’ll return,” I said with meaning.
Her eyes pleaded, “But…what if you don’t”
I looked off across the sea again, wondering what I should say. “I haven’t left any instructions because I plan to survive this. If, for some unforeseen reason, I don’t return you two can divide what I have.”
“Ngangi could demand ownership,” Viveka said.
“Yes, it’s very likely.”
“How can we stop him?”
“You can’t.”
Tilly made a sound between tight lips. “He’s too greedy for his own good. He’ll end up with a knife between his shoulders one of these days.”
Looking at her, I shook my head. “Life is too short as it is. Why pronounce a curse?”
“Is that you or your mother speaking?” Tilly sounded bitter.
I stared at her and knew that it wasn’t bitterness but perhaps disillusionment. “My mother may have been an idealist but at least she didn’t allow this world to taint her.”
“Neither did it save her.”
Not knowing how to answer that, I turned my eyes to the sea and studied the raging waves.
Tilly muttered, “Ngangi deserves a curse.”
Viveka released a stifled chuckle. “I think Tilly’s jealous. She has to share her lover with others.”
“I care nothing for Ngangi. He simply supplies a need.”
“I don’t think Boyana would agree.”
“Boyana’s impotent now with her broken arm.”
Viveka said, “She’s proficient with both of her arms. It won’t stop her from killing every threat.”
Tilly smiled cynically, “Then I’ll be sure to kill her in the coming war. I’ll make it look like enemy fire, a stray knife, a misdirected arrow. No one will need to know that I did it.”
I stared at Tilly. In that moment I thought that being friends with her wasn’t very smart. She was becoming increasingly more of a risk. Not that I cared about Boyana but if Ngangi would find out about Tilly’s plot he would have her killed and everyone associated with her, including me.
Viveka looked at me and we locked eyes for a moment. I could tell she was as uncomfortable as I was but we said no more. Trying to speak sense to Tilly never worked. Her outrageous and outspoken ways couldn’t be curbed by anyone. That’s what drew me to her in the first place, she was daring and bold, not intimidated by anyone.
“We should go,” I said, gathering my things and standing.
Tilly and Viveka didn’t move.
“Are you coming?” I finally asked.
Viveka said, “We aren’t eager to be rid of you. And what’s the rush? We could stay here for a month and our clan would assume that we all perished.”
Tilly said, “What a great idea! Our clan would never search for us, not this close to Tarmon. I like the idea. We could investigate this land mass together, find out if there is anything edible growing here, any animals worth hunting.”
“No! I’m going and if you two don’t want to come, then stay.” I walked down to my vessel, leaving them sitting on the sand.
Tilly and Viveka slowly stood, came to join me and prepared their vessels to cast off.
I rowed hard, hoping the other two would keep up. Anticipation urged me forward even though fear was knocking on my heart. What if this was my last living day? Was I ready for that? No. I wanted to live, do something useful with my life. I just wasn’t sure what that was. What was there to accomplish except to stay alive and fight, increase Ngangi’s rule and abide by Casimer’s demands?
The wind and waves were against us and, after half an hour, I realized that I’d cast off from Harim Farrin at a bad spot. I should have traveled farther up the coast and headed into the sea at a calmer area. I changed my trajectory and hoped to connect with the more settled water current to my left. The journey would still be hard going but less so than what we’d been doing till now.
Half an hour later we hit the water current and the waves subsided substantially. After rowing hard for another hour and a half we made tremendous progress. I slowed some to take a break and allowed my boat to still.
Tilly came up beside me and gasped for air. “What’s…the…rush?”
I didn’t bother answering her.
“We’ll lose ground if we stop now.” Viveka said, skimming up beside me and breathing heavily.
“I know.”
Silence settled around us as a wave lifted us high, allowing us to see the dark mist about a half hour row ahead. Then we descended on the back side, walls of water surrounding us. Sprays of water drenched us. Our leather clothing helped to keep out most of the chill.
When I’d caught my breath, my chest relaxing some, I gripped my oars and headed in the direction of the thick mist. Tilly groaned but followed. Viveka simply took up the rear and continued with me.
Soon the fog seemed to reach for us, long tendrils of mist curling toward us. I heard Tilly shriek but paid no attention to her. I kept rowing until the mist touched my face. My friends stayed back fifty yards or so. I turned my vessel around to face them, wondering if this would be last time I saw them, the last time they would see me.
“This is it,” Viveka said loudly so that I could hear her in the howling wind that whipped around us. “No turning back.”
“No turning back,” I echoed.
“You could still change your mind,” Tilly shouted.
I shook my head.
“Well, goodbye then,” Tilly said, a sad, resigned look on her face.
Viveka also appeared torn. “I wish this wasn’t happening.”
“I’ll be back.”
Viveka nodded but I could tell she was struggling to believe it.
I couldn’t bear the look of pain in their eyes, so I turned my vessel back toward Tarman and kept rowing toward the thick fog.
Viveka’s final farewell floated strangely in the misty air. I didn’t bother replying. We’d said enough goodbyes already.
Now that I was here, rowing through the gloomy fog, fear came. I steadily pushed forward, guiding the boat expertly over the rough water. Suddenly, the raging waves around me quieted and stilled, the air grew outlandishly calm and light began to filter through from above. My fear increased substantially and my rowing slowed. Although everything around me settled, my vessel seemed to pick up speed. I could vaguely see, through the waning fog cover, that I was approaching the farrin at a phenomenal rate. Whatever force was drawing me to the land mass was stronger than anything I’d experienced before.
I lifted my oars out of the water and placed them on the floor of my vessel, never taking my eyes off the mist-shrouded, approaching shoreline. Soon I would know.
