Richard Tuttle - Island of Darkness

“Well I am glad that they did,” smiled Gerock. “They did come for the horse, you know.”

“Did they harm you?” asked Temiker.

“No,” Gerock shook his head. “They threatened to, but I convinced them that you were lost at sea. I truly believed that you had.”

“Then all worked out as it was supposed to,” sighed Temiker. “Why are you not fishing today? I thought we would have to wait for you to come in from the sea.”

“Well,” grinned Gerock, “your timing could not be better. My old boat is not what it used to be. I spend more time repairing it these days then I do fishing. It has a leak along the keel that I cannot seal.”

“Would you sell it?” asked MistyTrail.

Gerock seemed to notice the two small women for the first time. He looked from one to the other and then his eyes rested on Temiker.

“I take it that the women are with you, Temiker,” Gerock said. “The old boat is of no use to me. If you wish them to have it, you have my blessing to give it to them. I am not sure what use they can make of it.”

“Go and inspect your new boat, Gerock,” smiled Temiker. “I will see what I can do with your old boat to make it worthy for these women.”

Gerock nodded enthusiastically and ran along the beach to view his new boat. Temiker knelt in the sand and bowed his head over the rail of the old boat. He closed his eyes and began chanting under his breath. As he chanted, his hands ran over the boards inside the boat. Several minutes later, he opened his eyes and stood up.

“The boat will no longer leak,” he announced.

“What did you do?” asked Mistake.

“I caused the boards to swell until they were tight as new,” shrugged the magician. “The boat is just old, not unusable. Are you sure this is a good idea, Mistake?”

“Certainly,” Mistake replied with enthusiasm. “I learned a lot more from Fuster on the way down here. I know all about tacking now.”

“Then I wish you a safe journey,” sighed Temiker. “Should you change your mind, I always will have a place for the two of you. I will protect you from the Omungans and keep you safe.”

“We must do what we have planned to do,” MistyTrail shook her head. “Say goodbye to HawkShadow for me when you see him. I did not have a chance to do so myself.”

“That I shall do,” promised Temiker as he turned and walked towards Fuster.

Mistake watched Temiker and Fuster turn and ride out of the village. She threw her pack into the boat and encouraged MistyTrail to do the same. Gerock dragged his new boat through the surf until it rested next to his old one.

“So you are going to be sailors?” smiled Gerock. “Do you plan to fish? Don’t know of too many female fishermen.”

“The boat is for our poor villagers,” Mistake replied. “They don’t have any boat at all. This will be quite a surprise for them.”

“No boat at all?” frowned Gerock. “I knew times were tough, but a village without a single boat is a sad thing indeed. Had I known, I would have been tempted to give it to you even without the new boat from Temiker. How will you get it there?”

“We will sail it there,” boasted Mistake. “We are going to leave now. Would you be so kind as to push us through the surf?”

“With pleasure,” nodded Gerock as he placed his hands on the bow of the boat. “Get in.”

Mistake and MistyTrail climbed into the boat. Gerock grunted as he shoved the boat off the sand beach. He waded into the water waist deep before turning the boat around.

“Hoist the sail,” ordered Gerock. “There is a good breeze to take you offshore.”

Mistake grabbed a line and pulled the sail upward. She tied off the line as Fuster had done when they had left port in Alamar. Gerock pushed hard on the boat until he was chest deep in water. With a final push, he raised his arm high and waved goodbye. Mistake crouched in the stern of the boat and grabbed the tiller. It took her some time to steady the boat on a northeast course.

“There are not any seats in this old boat,” complained MistyTrail as she sat on the floor. “How long will this trip take?”

“I don’t know,” shrugged Mistake as she looked down and saw an overturned bucket.

She sat on the bucket and turned to watch the shoreline receding.

“We are making good speed,” Mistake commented. “You keep an eye out for land in front of us.”

“I don’t think we will see it just yet,” replied MistyTrail. “I have seen a map before, and I think Fakara is a long ways off.”

“But we are moving quickly,” countered Mistake as she watched the sail fill with wind. “I bet we will be there before we know it.”

Marak heard soft voices not too far away. He opened his eyes and stared into the darkness. As he turned his head to the side, he saw that he was in the entry foyer of the old temple. Two figures sat outside the doorway around a fire. He sat up and stretched, feeling slightly sore all over. With a yawn, Marak rose and stepped out the door. Ukaro and Tmundo immediately turned to stare at him.

“I feel like I have slept for hours,” remarked Marak as he walked down the stairs and sat on a log near the fire. “Is that tea?”

Ukaro nodded and poured him a cup. “You had me worried, son,” Ukaro said as he handed the cup to Marak. “What happened in there?”

“I guess I fell asleep,” shrugged Marak. “I had such strange dreams. Why are you here, Tmundo?”

“I became concerned when you did not return,” answered the Kywara leader. “I felt that I should travel here to find if anything was wrong.”

“I wasn’t aware that our speedy return was of importance,” shrugged Marak. “You said that you would send a runner to Fardale to tell them that I would be away for a few days.”

“It has already been a few days,” Ukaro said as he stared at his son. “You must be hungry. I will get you some food.”

“A few days?” echoed Marak with a puzzled frown. “That is not possible.”

“With Kaltara,” replied Tmundo, “anything is possible. Tell us about your dreams.”

Marak sat silently for a few minutes as he felt the warmth of the tea invade his body. He thought back on his experience in the temple as his body began to feel alive again.

“I can’t really say that they were dreams,” Marak finally said. “I had visions, but they began before I fell asleep. So many visions. Kaltara should have warned me.”

“Kaltara spoke to you?” asked Tmundo.

“And I to him,” nodded Marak. “He was not happy that I had failed to talk to him sooner.”

“Did he call you the Torak?” asked Ukaro.

“After a while,” nodded Marak. “He wanted to be sure that I was committed to this struggle. He said that I would leave the temple as the Torak.”

“Praise Kaltara!” Ukaro said joyously as he handed Marak a bowl of stew. “What else did he say?”

“What he showed me said more than his words,” answered the Torak. “He did say that Vand is a man like you and I. It will be up to men to destroy him.”

“Meaning that it will be up to you, Torak,” interrupted Tmundo.

“No,” Marak shook his head. “It will take more than just me to defeat Vand. I learned much through the visions, but one thing stands out starkly. The flatlanders and the Chula are brothers.”

“Brothers?” Tmundo echoed with distaste. “How can that be?”

“Vand lived in this land thousands of years ago,” Marak stated. “He gathered the people of this land to himself and proclaimed that he was a god. Kaltara smote millions of his people, but Vand and others fled across the seas. The people that you call invaders are actually some of Vand’s followers rebelling against his dark magic and fleeing to these shores once again.”