Chapter 5: Arthur’s Story—Death on the River

The boatmen were neither as tired nor as unobservant as the boys had hoped. No sooner had Gonde crawled from the cannabis cave than one of the boatmen grabbed his arm and jerked him into the air. Arthur pushed past Golgi, drawing his dagger as he leapt onto the stern of the boat. The Great Moon was bright; Arthur saw the boatman’s dagger about to plunge into Gonde’s breast. Knocking the man’s arm aside with one motion, Arthur slashed the man’s throat with the next. He tasted hot iron as the man’s blood spurted onto his face. Gonde fell into the water; the man’s body followed.

The second boatman! Where is the second boatman? Arthur wondered, looking toward the prow. He nearly didn’t see the figure that rose from behind the pile of vegetation, poniard in hand. The blade was aimed at Arthur’s heart. Didn’t anyone teach them how to fight? The question flashed across Arthur’s mind as he ducked under the blade and slashed open the second boatman’s gut. Arthur helped Gonde clamber back onto the boat, and then kicked the second body into the water.

Gonde was shivering, not with cold, although he was naked in readiness to swim to shore. Golgi held his brother tightly, but his eyes were on Arthur.

“You, you saved me . . . us . . . ” he stammered. “I’m afraid . . .”

Arthur had wiped his dagger on his shirt and returned it to its place at his belt.

“Please don’t be afraid of me,” he said. “I will not harm you.”

“I’ve never seen anyone die like that,” Gonde sniffled.

“Have you often seen people die?” Arthur wondered, aloud.

Gonde merely nodded his head.

“Will you believe that I will not harm you?” Arthur asked.

Golgi nodded. Gonde did, too, but not as readily.

“You said you were going to Detmold. Is it still downstream from here?” Arthur asked.

“Yes, for sure,” Golgi said. “They were bound for the market, there.”

“Can you help with the oars?” Arthur asked, pointing to the sweeps. “We could take the boat there, ourselves.”

“And tell them what?” Golgi scoffed. “That three boys they don’t know brought a load of cannabis, and not to worry about the blood all over the stern? I don’t think so. These men and their boat are certainly known in Detmold. They may even be expected.”

“Why are you going to Detmold?” Arthur asked. “You never did tell me.”

“You have saved our lives,” Golgi said. “Therefore I must answer. We have run away from an indenture. The man who would have been our master was cruel, and his claim was false. Gonde was afraid of him.”

Golgi shuddered as he took a deep breath, and then continued, “We’re going to Detmold because that’s the only place we know.”

“Do you know anyone there?” Arthur asked.

The boys shook their heads. No.

Golgi and Gonde easily accepted Arthur’s leadership, and were anxious to do whatever he asked, even though he’d rejected the notion that since he’d saved their lives, they were bound to him.

“If we are bound, it is through shared experience, shared danger, and perhaps a shared goal: to find a place of safety. I promise to help you, and to do what I can to protect you, as long as we are together.”

A dock projected into the river. A lantern flickering on the end warned them. Golgi had shown Arthur how to mount a single sweep in the stern, and how to propel and steer the boat with that oar. Arthur turned the boat slightly to avoid the dock. The banks became lined with huts, most with a dock at which a pirogue or similar boat was tied. The boys steered toward the center of the river and slipped past the town, guided by the glow of the few lights. Before the sun began to light the eastern sky, they were past the town.

“We need supplies: food, water, daggers for you two,” Arthur said. “We will pull the boat under the trees in the reeds, and walk back to Detmold.” They had jettisoned the cargo—except for a layer in the bottom of the boat on which Gonde had slept while Arthur and Golgi operated the sweep.

“Stay close,” Arthur said as the boys approached the town.

Arthur struggled to control his voice, respiration, and mind as he answered the guard’s challenge. He named the village from which Gonde and Golgi had escaped—First Rapids—and said they had come to Detmold to buy food. It was sufficient.

Golgi had objected to spending money on blankets. “It’s summer! It will be hot!” However, when they returned, and Arthur spread a blanket over the cannabis to make a bed, Golgi abashedly agreed that the blankets had been a good idea.

“Golgi, Gonde,” Arthur began, “I don’t know what your custom is, but in my home, when a boy gives another boy a dagger it means that they are friends and companions. It means that they will be loyal to one another, if not forever, at least for a lifetime. It is not something that we do easily or quickly.

“You are old enough to have a dagger, and since I purchased these, I gift them to you. I cannot ask or offer the love, even the friendship that would normally go with them. I do offer and swear companionship and loyalty for as long as we agree to travel together. Will you swear the same?”

The two boys were unsure, and Arthur explained in detail what he meant. At last they nodded, and agreed to the oath.

“Gonde is not yet a boy,” Golgi said. “Neither he nor I has ever had a dagger—or a friend. I swear for myself and Gonde, companionship, obedience, and loyalty.” He turned to his little brother. “Gonde, I swore for you. As my brother, you must obey. Do you understand?”

Gonde nodded solemnly and replied, “I understand.”

The trip to Detmold and back to the boat had taken the entire day. Arthur had found the boatmen’s few possessions, including an iron pot, in a box that was part of the boat. On the bank of the river, carefully screened, he’d built a fire and was preparing to boil some of the oats and dried fruit he’d bought in the town.

“How did you build the fire?” Golgi asked. “You said you’d been in the swamp for a tenday. More, now. How can you have any boy magic?”

Arthur started. The boy’s smart. I’d not thought of that. I’ve sworn loyalty. That means I may not lie to him, even if that’s not what it means around here.

“I used the Great Magic, Golgi,” Arthur said. “I brought heat from the air around us to the wood, and it burned.”

Gonde, who had listened to what Arthur said, began to cry.

“What’s wrong? Why is he crying?” Arthur asked.

“Because, he knows that you are a golemage. He knows that you will kill us,” Golgi said.

He wants to cry, too, Arthur thought. He’s being brave for his brother. Golgi was hugging Gonde, but also keeping his own body between Arthur and the little boy.

“Gonde, I will not kill you,” Arthur said. “Golgi, why would I have given you daggers—weapons!—and sworn loyalty if I only meant to kill you?”

“You are not a golemage?” Gonde asked, sniffling. Golgi had explained what that word meant: the red-robed mages—some said they were Evil clerics—who seemed to control the soldiers who enforced the prince’s laws. The soldiers were cruel; the golemages were sadistic.

“No, Gonde,” Arthur said. “I hide from them. I hate them, for they came with the slavers who stole my friend. Now, come here and give me a hug, and tell me you are not afraid of me.”

Gonde looked at his brother, who nodded. Then he did as Arthur asked. Golgi was next. He hugged Arthur, and accepted that boy’s hug in return. Golgi looked at Arthur, and then kissed him. “I am not afraid of you, too,” Golgi said. “Will you share boy magic with me?”

Hours later, Golgi lay on the blanket, flat on his back, and snoring softly. Gonde had fallen asleep much earlier, curled up in another blanket. Arthur lay awake, watching the stars and the rising moon through the branches of the cypress trees below which the boat lay.

Arthur had built a fire and boiled oatmeal by the time the two boys were awake. Gonde wiped sleep from his eyes and smiled. “That smells good! I thought I was at home—” His voice broke, and his eyes filled with tears.

Arthur hugged the boy. “Please don’t cry, Gonde. Golgi and I need you to be strong.”

The boy sniffed, and looked at Arthur. “How can I help. I’m too little.”

“Well,” Arthur said. “You can stir the porridge while I piss.”

Gonde giggled, and took the stick from Arthur.

*****

Arthur poked Golgi. “You going to sleep all day?”

Golgi rolled over and grinned. “I’ve been awake, but it’s been so long since I’ve—we’ve—not had to jump from bed at first light.”

Arthur meted out the porridge. When each of the boys had eaten his fill, he rinsed the bowls and pot in the river, using a little of the magic he had received from Golgi to ensure they were clean.

“Now,” he said, “before we start, I want to know a little about you. Gonde said he’d seen people die, but not like the boatmen. Golgi just said you have to wake at first light. And, you said you were running away from an indenture that wasn’t right. What does all that mean?”

Golgi looked sharply at Arthur, but then spoke softly. “Our village is on the edge of a bayou that feeds the river. It’s just downstream of the rapids for which it’s named. All of our family were fishers. Father, our brothers, and I would go out on our boat each day to fish. We brought home fish enough for us and some to trade for flour, wool, and other things we needed. Mother was a healer, and people paid her in goods. It was best when they gave her cheese!

“Two years ago, Father was stung by one of the spines of a fish we’d not seen before. It was poison, and he died before we could get him home. A year later, Mother died. She was never happy after Father died, and when she caught something—a fever—she just didn’t seem to want to live.

“Our brothers kept fishing, but without Father and Mother, they couldn’t catch enough to trade for flour and stuff. Then, the Army came and took them away to be soldiers. Mother’s brother took the boat, said it was his, and no one was there to challenge him. He said he was going to sell us to another man who hunted alligators. Everybody knew that the boys on his boat didn’t last long before an alligator took an arm or a leg—sometimes worse! Mother had tried to save some of them, but most died because he waited too long before bringing them to her.

“I couldn’t let that happen to Gonde,” Golgi concluded.

Arthur sat quietly while he digested this. The story was truthful, and seems to be complete, he thought. I knew Eblis was Evil, and Golgi’s story is consistent with that. What has happened to these people? How has Evil gained such a hold? And what is keeping it from spreading into Arcadia?

I thought I was just here to rescue Robbie, he thought. But there are many questions to be answered, as well. Aloud he said, “Thank you, Golgi. I see in your face, and hear in your voice, the hurt you have suffered. It took courage to tell me those things. I think we shall need your courage before our journey is ended.”