Chapter 8: Breakout

Berin and Glavino can no longer bear being prisoners. They must escape, but can they escape together?

Breakout

That night, while the rest of the prisoners moaned themselves to sleep, Berin hatched a plan.

It is rudimentary, though as far as I can tell, it is faultless. All I need is a little information.

There was one soldier in charge of opening the rear gates each day to allow supplies through. Berin wondered if he was specially selected for the role. As Berin studied the soldier the next vero, he noticed there was an odd method of opening the rear gates.

I cannot decipher it.

As he sat there in the filthy dark the following night, listening to Glavino’s uneasy breathing, he remembered Glavino’s question.

Did you kill before?

Berin did not know. The young guard on Corse was alive when he left him. It was a similar situation to the boy back in Vergara, having to leave before knowing their fate.

Was I a murderer before that last night in my home? I can never know.

That moment of bloodied Bacana soldiers came flooding back. He quickly shifted the thought away from his mind. That was not murder either. He killed to save at least two lives.

Save a life and you save all of mankind. Was that not the mantra his mother had taught him?

It suddenly dawned on him about the special guard of the rear gate. The soldier was using his adunai to crank the wheel that opened the gates. Only someone with a strong adunai would be able to slide a hand in the crevice to reach the handle. Fortunately, Glavino preferred his adunai. It now became a question of whether Glavino had the strength in him after a meagre diet, and if Berin could give him enough time at the gate without the concern of the guards.

“Do you think you can do it, Glavino?” Berin asked the following morning after the basis of the plan was outlined.

“Of course!”

“I will tell the others.”

“Not best idea.”

“Why not?”

“Trust not.”

“Who do you not trust?”

“That man.” Glavino pointed to a wily figure. Berin did not remember seeing him before.

“Did he just join us in the laogai?”

“Think so.”

“Hmm.”

“What you think?”

“I need some prisoners to help with a distraction.”

Glavino pointed out those he trusted. Berin agreed. These men, genuine Vergarans, were the type of men they could trust, and, more importantly, would help.

Berin chose high noon to distract the guards, just before the turnover of the guard when the worn out men left to eat. He collected rocks and threw them across the prison courtyard, making a noise as they clanged against the metal. Some hit the prisoners.

“What did you do that for?” queried one prisoner of another.

“What?”

“Throw rocks at me!”

“I did not.”

“Yes you did,” he said as he threw a punch. It clearly missed, but the man’s head slung to the side as he fell to the ground, clutching his face. Other prisoners not privy to the plan joined in the fight, only for real. Soon half the prisoners were involved in the scuffle.

The guards, bar the gatekeeper, rushed over to break up the commotion.

“Now is our chance,” whispered Berin to Glavino. They sidled next to the gatekeeper and clobbered him in the gut and the head, knocking him into a deep sleep.

“Quick, use your adunai to turn the wheel,” hissed Berin. Glavino reached inside the wheel towards the handle.

“Cannot grab it!” he cried.

“Why not?”

“Painful.”

“Forget the pain!”

Glavino reached further in, his teeth clenched. He emitted a noise from his bowels as he reached further in.

“I have it!”

“Good. Now turn it!”

Glavino started shifting the cogs of the gate, the way Berin described, and soon lifted the locking bars free. The gate swung open. It led out of the city walls, out into the open countryside.

One of the guards cried out in Manas Hu from behind the two men. The other guards turned to see them running across the nearby field. One of the guards chased, while another closed the gate. Berin turned when he heard the cogs rolling against each other. The gate closed in no time.

“Hurry! We must make the safety of the trees!”

Berin and Glavino raced to the end of the field. Here a fence was no worry; both men leapt it without slowing their rhythm. As they crossed the treeline, Berin stole a glance behind. The guard was halfway across the field.

“Let us split up and meet back here.”

“No!”

“There’s only one guard. He cannot follow both.”

“Fine.”

Berin saw Glavino turn to his adunai. Berin turned the other. The guard followed him. He jumped over the knee-height plants and weaved through the trees.

I have to get some distance, he thought between breaths. He turned towards their original route, in the opposite direction to the laogai. Berin glanced behind him. The guard was gaining. Berin, as much as his chest and legs could allow, quickened his pace. There had to be something he could throw behind him to slow his pursuer. The only objects around were rooted to the earth. Berin, for the tiniest of moments, wondered if this would be another failed attempt at escaping. Perhaps a knife would come in handy. That had been relieved from him when they were first captured.

He glanced again behind. The guard was nearly upon him and premeditating every move of Berin’s. Berin darted one way and then the other, but the guard was swift and within reaching distance. Berin felt a tug on his clothes. He drove his elbow behind him, colliding with the guard’s hand. The release of Berin’s clothes was followed by a thud into the trunk of the closest tree. Berin glanced behind.

He has fallen; now is my chance.

Berin raced through the trees into a field of long grass. He followed the edge before sneaking into the centre of the field. Crouching down, Berin hoped the grass would shield him from capture. It was up to his ears to determine the best moment to retreat from his hiding position. There was no noise for what seemed an eternity. Then, he heard the crunching sound against the fallen leaves.

For the love of the gods, please let him go the other way!

The guard’s footsteps entered the grassy field. Berin lay closer to the ground, feeling the very dirt pressed against his chin. His arm muscles tightened, ready to spring at any moment.

His wheezing started. It had not been present since the moment he met Juolo all those years ago. Now it was back.

Quiet, he whispered to himself, this is the worst time for this breathing trouble to occur.

Then again, he had not run that far and at that great speed for a long time. Even when chasing Rini and Erinu.

Rini and Erinu. Liberation.

He held his breath, hoping the wheezing would stop, or at least for the guard to not hear. He was close now, not close enough, thought Berin, for his path to reach me. But the guard’s breath could be heard, deepened gasps for any kind of air. The guard’s footsteps paused as the gasps increased. Berin timed his breathing as best he could with that of the guard.

Perhaps he will not hear me.

Pairing their breaths seemed to work, for the guard carried on across the field, further away from the laogai. Berin waited for a moment, ensuring the guard was safely in the trees on the other side, before he shook the ants off his legs and crawled out of the grass. He headed back in the direction of the laogai and climbed one of the trees. Waiting until night was nearly upon him, he saw the guard, hunched over and clearly in pain from the heavy breathing, returning to the laogai. Berin waited until it was truly dark. He shimmied down and returned to the original place Glavino and he separated. Berin looked upwards and saw Glavino’s legs in the treetops.

“Greetings, old friend,’ he whispered. ‘What are you doing up there?”

“Waiting for you.”

“Fancy that. Let us go.”

“Where?”

“What did you find your way?”

“I saw the coastline in the distance.”

“Then that is where we shall head.”

“What about your way?”

“Mine? Nonsense. No sense in going that way. Yours is the best.”

The two men ran southwards to the coast, hoping the guards would search northwards. They reached the coast by the beginning of the next vero and set about finding a vessel to Akola.

“We must stay together, Glavino,’ said Berin. ‘If we are caught, we are caught together. If we find a ship to sail across the Chingola Sea, we sail together.”

“Correct.”

The two waited until the sun was beginning to rest before sneaking into the port area. They kept to the edges, seeking a ship. The port was so full of rowboats and sailing vessels that Glavino whistled through his pursed lips.

“How are we going to find a ship to Akola?”

Berin did not know. He had never seen so many vessels before, sparkling with their lanterns against the purple haze of the sky. Why were so many here?

“Have an idea.”

“Do you now?”

“Akola is trading island. The trading island of the world. We find a ship with Manas Hu food.”

“That is a clever idea, Glavino! And also, any of the ships contain commoners, they must be leaving Qala Vali as refugees before the war can invade them…”

“They head to Cuha.”

“To their fatherland!”

“Yes.”

The two watched from a safe distance the items being loaded on to the ships. After some time, just as Berin’s eyes started to droop, he wrinkled his nose at a stench that reminded him of his armpits after running. Actually, he wondered if he were the source. Glavino tapped him on the shoulder.

“Look what they load on the ship!”

Berin peered, noticing men with lanterns loading boxes upon boxes onto a decaying ship.

“Quasi,” Glavino whispered through breathless lips.

Quasi was a terrible, smelly fruit grown out on the plains beyond the Bo Hai River. It had a dark outer skin, slightly squishy, which made the fruit all the more repulsive. The inner and edible part of the fruit was firm, since most of this part was the seed. Berin hated the fruit, as it not only disagreed with his nostrils but also with his palate.

“I hear the people of Igis Tarar, a peninsula on the Southern Lands, love the quasi.”

“Aphrodisiac?” Glavino wondered.

“How do you know that word?”

“Know most words.”

“Yes, well, they think it is an aphrodisiac.”

“Is it?”

“No way. Surely the stench of breath would deter any woman. It would stop me from wanting to kiss. This ship would have to be travelling to Akola where the Tararians can trade for the fruit. Glavino, you are a genius!”

 The two waited until all the fruit had been loaded. They crept along the wharf, eager to make no footstep sounds. As they reached halfway, two sailsmen with their lanterns raised walked off the gangplank of the ship.

“Quick, hide!”

Berin climbed over the edge of the wharf, placing his feet on a strong wooden piece under the wharf. Meanwhile, Glavino tripped over what seemed to be a clout not nailed down. He fell face first into the wooden planks.

“Oh no!”

The sailsmen heard the thud. They hurried over.

“Who goes there?”

“Gla…Gla…Glavino.”

‘What are you doing on this wharf?”

“Trying to get home.”

One sailsman passed his lantern to his colleague and grew closer to lift Glavino.

“Oh my! This one stinks worse than the quasi!”

“He must be drunk.”

“No,’ said Glavino in a rather slurry tone, ‘not drunk.”

“Yes you are, dear friend. Let me help you on your way.”

He helped Glavino all the way to his feet.

“There are you. Now, this way to town.’ He led him off the wharf. ‘You sure you know your way home now?”

“Yes.”

“Right, off you go.”

Glavino walked away from the wharf until the sailsmen had left. He returned just as Berin was climbing from his hiding place.

“That was close!”

“Yes.”

“Great idea, pretending to be drunk.”

“He suggested. I obeyed.”

“Fair enough. Quick, let us board this ship before any other sailsmen come.”

“Are you sure? Bad ship.”

“How so?”

“Looks dangerous.”

“Yes, but we must get to Akola.”

“Fine.”

The two men crept to the gangplank. Glavino staggered out first. He stopped. Berin noticed to his adunai a sailsman, spear in his hand. He heard a noise, the sound of snoring, fleeing from the man’s nostrils. Berin motioned for Glavino to continue.

“Where we hide?”

“Amongst the quasi.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I doubt any of the sailsmen will come below to inspect the nasty fruit. We will be safe there.”

Berin led the way as they crept around the mast, towards what they thought would be the ladder that led below deck. The moonlight grew stronger. They spied an opening in the deck. Berin climbed down first.

“This is where they have stored the quasi,” his nose responded. Glavino followed him, clutching his nostrils as he climbed down slowly. He reached the bottom, next to Berin, and wandered around. Berin kept an eye on the opening above them.

“Over here,” Glavino said finally. There was a small gap between a cluster of boxes and the hull. They wedged themselves in, Berin covering them with an old blanket lying nearby.

“Go to sleep, Glavino.”

“Cannot.”

“The stench?”

“Yes.”

“We will be accustomed to it soon.”

“Hope so.”

Berin lay there, dreaming of his children. Rini and Erinu would have had to cross the Chingola Sea too. He hoped they were in better quarters. Though he doubted. He had heard of these slave ships, all the slaves squeezed into a tiny room below deck, locked away.

Berin’s heart dropped, like the moment one steps downwards, only to find there is no step below.

No, he thought, I must stay strong.

His thoughts turned to his wife. Juolo would keep them tucked in her arms, a mother hen shielding her chicks from the influence of the world.

 

“Get some sleep now, and we will wake you in the morning,” replied Berin, weariness seeping from his words. Glavino lay down, and Berin made sure he was comfortable before removing his coat and retiring to his own. He nearly tripped over Juolo’s miter, now lying on the ground at the entrance to their bedroom. She must have forgotten about it, thought Berin.

He eased his way into his bed, careful not to wake his wife. But, in his tiredness, Berin placed his body too far onto the opposite side of the bed, expecting to knock into Juolo. When he did not, he felt around, touching nothing but the bed. Puzzled, he crept out into the children’s room, and clasped for them in their beds. Nothing. Berin found and lit a candle. He returned to the room; there was no sign of all three of them. He rushed towards the front door, dropping the candle as its wick snuffed out.

 

Berin woke. It was only a dream, a dream of that fateful night. He thought back to that first moment Juolo crossed his wavering path. That moment when they collided, in the Vergaran woods, both running from what they thought was a beast. It turned out to be a large dog, to which both of them laughed. It was a laugh that bonded them. Berin knew from that moment this woman, her beauty radiating through her giggles, was the one for him.

Berin fell asleep smiling, dreaming the sweet dream of a man reminiscing.