Chapter 24: Separation Again

The Bacana army invade Porto Cerro, splitting Berin from his family, again.

Separation Again

A noise echoed the sound of the huckelber. Sceala glanced out the doorway.

“Wait a moment, Berin.”

“What?”

“Something does not feel right.”

“How do you mean?”

“I think there is something else, aside from the huckelber, waking everyone up.”

At that moment, the sound of a trumpet could be heard ringing through the city. Its origin was close to Sceala’s hut, louder than the huckelber and certainly more robust. Sceala stood and stepped towards the doorway. She stopped. Voices could be heard from nearby. Then there was a scurry of footsteps shuffling outside Sceala’s doorway. Berin pushed himself out of the chair and peeked outside, Sceala leaning from behind him to see as well. He saw beet-red.

“Bacana soldier!” he cried and leapt back inside, closing the door quietly.

“Are you serious?”

“I know one when I see one!’ He rushed and blew out what remained of the candles. ‘Quick, is there somewhere to hide?”

“No, sorry. This is only a one-room hut.”

At that moment, the door burst open. Berin wished at that moment his sword was not at the inn. He gripped for anything sharp and found Sceala’s knife.

“Berin?” came the unmistakable voice of Glavino.

“Glavino! Are the children…”

“Papa!” came the double cry of Rini and Erinu.

“Good. What happened?”

“There are soldiers. They stormed the inn. We crept out the rear window just in time. As we turned back to look, the inn was covered in flames.”

“Did you collect any other items?”

“Only the sword. I have no use for it, that is, I cannot wield it.”

Berin collected it from him and slipped it in his belt.

“Thank you.”

“What about the haversacks?”

“Look, Erinu, the inn is bound to be as charred as Glavino’s house, as our house. It is too late.”

Glavino cringed his face.

 “Will they ever stop chasing us?” he wondered out aloud.

“It would seem not,’ responded Berin absentmindedly. ‘We need a plan. Glavino, would you say there are many soldiers outside right now?”

“We saw only one.”

“Yes, Papa, only one.”

“As did I.”

“What are we to do, Papa?”

“Sceala, any options?”

“Sorry, no. Unless you make for the beach now.”

“That is in the direction of our inn.”

“Not if you steal eastward. That way should be clear, if the Bacana have invaded the city from the southwest. East is where you will find the port.”

It seems the only solution, Berin concluded to himself.

“Then let us depart.”

The five stole into the wee light, Berin leading the way because of the weapon with Sceala closely behind, guiding their path. Her guidance was soon not required. Their path joined the throng of Porto Cerro dwellers.

“Here, take the sword.”

Berin gave the gleaming metal to Glavino, who strapped it to his waist. Berin collected his son, lifted him onto his shoulders and raised him above the crowd.

“We must find a vessel.”

“A vessel?” said Glavino.

“Glavino, now is not the time for fear. You must suck in all the courage you can find and face the Sonid Sea.”

“Fine.”

“There, Papa!” Rini pointed.

“Let us run.”

Berin lowered Rini and they continued in the direction he pointed. Soon they emerged from the salt bushes. An unforeseeable image lay before them. In their haste, they missed the port full of boats, which was further round the coast. Instead, the beach possessed only a few Cerrons, a small collection of tiny vessels and no conceivable escape.

“Where to, Sceala?”

But Sceala was nowhere to be seen in the dawn.

“Sceala!”

“Quiet, the enemy might hear.”

“Where is she?”

“I thought she was behind me.”

“No, she has not been there for some time.”

“Then where could she be?”

“Perhaps she went further on to reach the port.”

“Then that is where we must traverse.”

At that moment, noises rang from behind them; cries for help. Berin knew exactly the situation, exactly what he feared since that first night in Vergara, back in his home. The invading army had arrived. Berin saw red armour moving their way.

“There is a boat!” pointed Glavino.

“Speed be haste, before someone spies us!”

In the chaos, no one noticed the four foreigners sneak towards the solitary vessel remaining on the beach. No one noticed the disappointment on Berin’s face when he ascertained its size. Only one person could fit. It would sink if any more tried to clamber aboard.

“Jump in!” cried Glavino as he scrambled over Rini towards the boat.

“No,” said the deadpan voice of Berin.

“What, Papa?” screamed the two children.

“We cannot all fit in the tiny boat.”

At that moment cries rang from the salt bushes behind them. The Bacana soldiers were appearing onto the beach.

“Jump in!” repeated Glavino and the other three obeyed. Glavino pushed the vessel, if one were to call it that now. It tipped this way and that as it entered the water. Glavino leapt aboard. It was more like a midget barrel, only with a bow and stern. Berin took to the oars as the others shifted to even the weight. Distance between them and the enemy was paramount, or the beach would be their resting place forever.

Suddenly they reached where the waves broke. One broke over the rim of the tiny boat, spinning it sideways.

“Hold on tight!” yelled Berin.

The next wave upturned the boat, sending the four into the ocean without a moment to gasp for air. Berin briefly returned to the surface, but another wave sent him under again. Fear awashed him as he clambered against the water to reach above it.

I must not drown, like I nearly did in the Midran Passage.

At once he grasped the upturned boat and looked around for signs of life.

“Rini! Erinu! Glavino!”

Seeing neither his children nor his friend, Berin noticed an object falling at an angle from the sky and sleekly landing in the water. One landed near his ear.

Arrows!

The bowmen on the shoreline were firing at them! Berin dove under the water for cover. However, he could not hold his breath for any amount of time and had to rise to the surface. As he looked around, no sign of other bodies in the ocean were to be seen, only his. Berin manoeuvred around the far side of the boat, away from the beach for limited protection as the arrows rained around him. He had to escape, but he could not leave his children and Glavino. Nor Sceala. Where were they? Sceala’s disappearance was a real mystery. The others were gone too.

I must not worry about her, for now. I must care about my family, about Glavino.

It was hard to see from his hiding place. Surely there was a way to find them. Berin grasped the oars lying next to the boat, surprised to find them still there before they were swept away. Berin, with great difficulty, turned the boat the correct way and, as quickly as he could, hauled in his drenched body. He lay crouched for fear of the arrows, but eventually courage was mustered to peek above the boat’s rim. He noticed three bodies in the distance. They were no closer but no further to the beach. Berin wondered if they were in a rip, especially when he looked a second time moments later their position was even further away. Berin called out, his voice strained as he attempted to gain their attention. They were too far away, for there was no response in voice or body.

Another arrow whizzed near Berin’s head. He knew he had to remove himself from the death that accompanied a blow from the slender weapons. Quickly he grasped the oars and began rowing. Arrows continued slicing the surface of the water but luckily none hit the boat, or more importantly, him. Frenzied adrenaline overtook him. He managed a glance to his right where the three bodies were. It seemed no arrows were heading in their direction, but only in his.

As Berin rowed away, he took another glance back towards the shore. Glavino and the children were crawling along the sand in the shallows of the water.

They are alive! They are safe, for now. I must leave my children and Glavino behind.

For rowing in their direction would draw the archers’ attention to them. As he continued rowing, Berin realised the arrows could not reach him out this far. He relaxed. Heading towards the three would return him to within range, plus they may also be spotted. As he continued rowing his only thought was for his wife. She was north of here. That was Berin’s ultimate destination. Though it meant leaving his children and Glavino. It was a tough decision but for some reason his wife invaded all his thoughts.

He peered back to the shoreline. The three were running in the opposite direction of the soldiers. Soon there was no sight of them as they passed the line of the salt bushes. Berin’s heart dropped. All he could do was pray to the gods they would remain safe.

Berin rowed through the morning without ceasing. The afternoon came and went, as did the night. He continued rowing, the thought of his wife spurring him to physical capabilities he never encountered or experienced. As the sun was rising slowly in the sky, he saw water all around. He knew not how far he had come; he was not skilled in chartering the stars to locate his own position.

I wish Rini was here to guide me by the stars.

He knew not how far it was to reach the other side of the Sonid Sea. Berin hung his head in shame.

How could I detach myself from my family, only to see them potentially captured? This was not how it was supposed to end. I am supposed to have my family safely in my arms. My entire family. Glavino included. Have I made the correct decision? I feel so woeful. I left them behind to fend for themselves against the greatest soldiers this world has ever known. Oh the gods know I am foolhardy. They are going to be imprisoned, or worse, killed. How can I do this to my own kin, to the brother-in-kind who has never left my side since Vergara? They cannot not defend their lives against the Bacana!

An emptiness that started in the bottom of his stomach rose past his heart, reaching his voice box. Out came the strangest sound from his mouth. It was more like a wail, yet it outstretched into a moaning symphony. The agony of losing his children, again, was too much to bear. And Glavino, what a friend he had been over time.

I am certain they are lost for good.

Neither could Berin return. He knew not the distance he had just rowed, nor the distance to go to reach the northeastern lands of Shuiku and beyond. A decision had to be made.

As he was moaning, pondering the next course of action, he noticed a tiny beaded necklace, though wet, was attached to his belt. It was Juolo’s necklace he had made for her in the days of their courtship. As he felt the beads, he felt a sense of tender powerfulness. Berin could not grasp what it was; perhaps it was a renewed vigour. It was the same vigour he encountered as he held the sword against the innkeeper’s neck, one of empowerment, given the choice to end his life. And though still feeling weighted with a heavy, emotional burden, he decided then and there: the gods would have to keep his children and Glavino safe. There was nothing he could do. The waves had taken them away from him. Now he would have to muster what energy remained and focus on reaching his wife. Juolo was imprisoned, somewhere out in the unknown, no knowledge of her family. She needed protection as much as the others.

It is a decision I know will have lasting consequences, consequences that would scar me for the remainder of my existence. But I can only do one thing.

A few agonising veros followed as Berin rowed northwards into the unknown. As he exhausted himself, he wondered where he would find his wife, if she were to be found. Though hope remained, however slim it was, spurring him to press onwards. In spite of the wild waves threatening to tip the boat every few minutes, Berin managed to sustain his rowing rhythm. He continued in a daze, rocking back and forth as he thought of Juolo, of her brown, glistening hair, of her strength and resolve, of the way she saved him from a life of loneliness and anger.

As night began to fall, with bloodshot and dazed eyes he glanced to from where he had come. Something inside, perhaps from the gods, told him his children and Glavino were safe. He looked ahead, spotting a small bird gliding swiftly, using the wind to keep momentum as it searched for its dinner. Land! It had to mean land was nearby! It was certainly not a mirage, not anything imagined, though Berin wondered this when it seemed to remain at the same distance despite rowing for hours. Soon the land drew closer and, sure enough, there it was, willing him to finish this final stretch.

Berin reached a sandbar and could row no further. He slumped out of the boat, stepping slowly until his feet felt dry sand.

Is this the land of Shuiku? It must be. It can be no other land, unless the waves have swept me back towards the Orguein Islands. That would be the gods shattering glass in my face!

As he reached the shore, he suddenly realised the enormity of all that occurred, of his decision to leave his children and Glavino. Staggering beyond the treeline, he found he could not continue. His legs felt limp and soon his whole body proceeded to feel the same. Berin stumbled and fell headfirst into the sand.