The Long Road To... - 47. The Ones Who Walk Away

“We should just make it,” Revinn called from the other side of the boat.

We were rowing hard to get away from the Inferno and back to shore. The stinging cold rain was getting heavier. This was the last group, the rest would weather the storm on the ship. Only eight had remained aboard to see the squall through. Considering the ferocity of the typhoon that landed us here, we felt it safer to have more of us on solid ground.

The camp had been moved inland as well. Now rested between some hills along with food and some cargo from the ship, it would be secure enough. We were as ready as we could be.

There would be no fish for a few days at least. It would be a much needed relief. Over a month of one-quarter rations, but as much fish as we wanted, had made meals a boring necessity. The alternative was the grass-bread the cook had made up for us. With no progress in getting the Inferno free, we were stretching what we could for as long as possible.

“Cold enough for a round of snow,” Revinn called from in front.

The light flakes had barely stuck, but I shuddered at the thought of actual snowfall.

We finally hit the beach and set off dragging the boat inland to camp through the cold rain.

Our party had explored most of the island. It was the same land of nothingness from one side to the others: grass, dunes, beach, marsh, trickling streams, and stale pools of water, nothing of value. The tree was mercifully left alone, as well as the ‘dragon bones.’ More than one person had commented on the odd coincidence the only signs of life and death here were on the same beach. Or were. A few of Urusulla’s trees appeared to be giving life a go.

I was freezing and wet when I crawled into the tent. The fire, struggling for life, was out in the sputtering rain and would do me no good. I only wanted to not have wind and wet in my face and try to get some rest before the heavy stuff hit us.

Two days of intense winds and water kept us hidden inside our shelters eating only rations. A more bitter cold began to come in with it. Most of us had seen this kind of cold and wet before. I felt a certain degree of sympathy for the little family nestled together under one of the skiffs. They knew snow as well as anyone in the party, though not this kind of storm.

When the lighter rain signaled the worst had passed, a few of us made the trek in the drizzle to check on the Inferno. The long walk back to the shore brought some warmth back into my bones. To his credit, Leaf had done his best to keep us both warm, but we were still cold even after relying on each other for heat at night in the tent. The crew at camp would continue to have a hard time getting a fire going with all the wet brush now.

The ivory sands had been scoured up to the dunes in some places. The Inferno did not appear to be in the same place. At first we thought it was an illusion due to the erosion we had experienced on the beach. One of the sails was partially up though, suggesting it had moved.

It took some time, but when the lantern signals started coming back the news was good.

“They arre frree!” Ususulla shouted.

“Farther out though,” Revinn added.

“We can finally leave,” Leaf sighed.

Urusulla, the crewman Ozcollo, and a few others decided to go down to get a last look at the tree, bones, and seedlings he had planted.

“Just to see iph they arre still grreen. Iph they surrvive the winterr, they will be alrright.”

“To be known as Urusula’s Grove,” Ozcollo winked.

They left early. The rest of us spent the day packing up the last of the supplies and finally sending the second boat out to the Inferno sometime in the afternoon.

Other than the last skiff with us, we had only kept what we would need for a night or two at the most. All the remaining men would return, together, leaving nothing behind.

Revinn, Leaf, and I sat together between the fire and the dune. I had felt no need to return to the tree again. Leaf and Revinn agreed to stay at camp with me. The tent gave a little bit of a break from the winds but the flakes of snow still came down around us only to be absorbed onto the wet sand or dried to nothingness if they drifted to close to the fire.

Revinn and Leaf talked steadily about the return to the world, any world, somewhere other than the purgatory we were sitting on. I looked around us and wondered how long it would take for the island to erase our presence from its memory.

I leaned back and closed my eyes. The copse of trees that Urusula had planted would be the only sign of this voyage. If they survived the winter that is.

In truth I had mixed feelings about voyaging back to civilization. If it were not for the lack of food, this would not have been that bad of a place. It had been, and mostly still was, untouched. The flakes in the air meant winter was upon us. What would the island be like then? What would we have done in winter? I shivered at the thought.

“Do you think we will ever come back?” Leaf asked.

My eyes were still closed. I shook my head, not knowing if he was even speaking to me. I could think of no reason nor any wish to. The peace of the land was absolute and should be left undisturbed.

“I hope the twigs take root,” Revinn whispered. “They might give some life to this place.”

Eventually we crawled into the tent to sleep.

I woke to a light coat of snow and only left the warmth of the tent to gather more for the fire.

The wetness gave off smoke, but settled before too long and drove away the whiteness from the immediate area. I cooked fish for them but skipped eating yet another meal from the sea.

I did eat in the afternoon. Not because I wanted to, I just knew what might happen if I skipped food too often. I had done that enough in the last week.

“Do you think they will make it back tonight?” Leaf leaned closer to the fire.

“The sooner the better. I want to get home.” Revinn sighed.

“Thought you wanted to see the world,” Leaf chuckled.

“If this is what it is like out there,” he gestured around us, “I would prefer to sleep in my own bed.”

“Well you will get your wish, at least as soon as we get back.”

“Do you think the others made it? All the way around?”

“I do.” Leaf sounded so certain. I had my doubts. Huallpa and his crew seemed to believe in the other crews’ abilities. I had to leave it to fate. What had happened, had already happened.

There had been so many I had left behind in life and death. Friends, enemies, so many. I suddenly wondered how many people thought I was dead. I had to stop myself from laughing out loud. Far too many.

“What are you grinning at?”

I looked up to see Leaf with his eyebrow cocked at me. I shook my head and stifled my smile.

“Well, whatever it is,” Revinn started, “it is good to see you smile. It has been too long.”

The happiness was fleeting as we slept again on the beach waiting for the other team to return.

The following morning, Revinn tried to signal the Inferno that we were going to go check on the crew. There was no signal back, but they were much farther out so it was possible they could not see him.

“I am not sure if I am even doing this right,” Revinn sighed.

“What if they miss us and get back here first?” Leaf looked done back the dunes inland.

“Can any of them read? We can write a message.”

I shrugged.

Leaf drew, more than wrote, a message including a tree and a long arrow going to it in the sand.

We prodded along on the seaward most dunes down the shore. The frost in the grasses was holding, making them crisp to the touch.

We walked the first hours scanning the beach and inland looking for signs. The view held nothing but the slowly whitening landscape and cold water.

We seemingly crested a hill at the same time they did. At some distance away, we waved to each other before our party stopped and waited from them to catch up to us.

“Something is wrong,” Leaf whispered.

I nodded. Their body language was all wrong for a hike such as theirs.

“I could be wrong…” Revinn began slowly, “…but, by my count…” He did not finish his sentence, he merely studied them in the closing distance.

It became apparent the closer they came, someone was not with them. Their faces were covered for the wind, but as made their final approach I could tell who was missing.

“He’s dead,” Ozcollo said slowly. “Urusula.”

I had guessed as much by now. He had said it slowly, resolutely, the relaying of a fact and nothing more. A comrade was gone.

“What…” Revinn looked decidedly unnerved.

“We phound him in the morrning. He must have went out while we werre sleeping nearr the strream,” Ozcollo explained as we started the walk back to the boat. Some of the others nearby nodded.

“We phound him in the morrning, underr the drragon bones. They must have given way. He was crrushed.”

Revinn looked like he was about to be sick, Leaf more resigned, like the crew.

“He probably wanted to see that metal rod underneath up close,” Leaf sighed.

“We trried to shipht some oph it to get it oph. The little parrts came away easy, the larrgest piece would not be moved. In the end, we rrestacked what we could over him.”

We all walked in quiet silence for a time.

“At least his trrees look grreen,” Ozcollo said suddenly with a long sigh.

We returned to camp cold and sullen.

They signaled the Inferno. It was too late to row all the way out now. We would leave first thing in the morning and never look back.

Around the fire, the sailors sang together in their language. Even though I could not understand the words, I could hear the mourning for Urusula in the song. They tried to help Revinn with the words, but he fell silent not wanting to interrupt the rhythms.

During a pause, Leaf left us for the dunes. I looked up at the moon visible in the drifting clouds. I knew where he was going and who he would be talking to. I walked to the water and stared into the inky blackness. The Inferno’s lanterns looked so far in the darkness.

We had lost only one on this journey.

One had been enough.

I crawled into the tent to the sounds of the singing. They seemed less mournful now. More remembering, longing maybe. Most likely they were of their home. All sailors sing of home. The place they always long to get to, but always leave time and time again.

I was asleep well before they finished.

In the morning, the mood was different. There was a job to do, work ahead, and the long row to the Inferno.

It was all business as we packed up, dragged the skiff back into the water, and readied the oars. Another light snow had begun to fall.

Before pushing off, they gathered around the boat. One of the men led a small prayer in their language.

“Phorr a saphe sojourn home and phorr Urusulla,” Ozcollo whispered to us.

A light snow drifted down as we left the quiet, unnamed island. An unknown, lonely place, farther away from anything or anyone, anyone of us had even known before. The safest, closest place to winter was Harald’s Port. We had no choice but to head back. The icy winds of winter closed the sea to us for now.

We rowed hard, taking us further from the farthest shore behind us into the other wind ahead.