“Might be better for you to take a pole and do some fishing in your other boat. Row a ways upstream. That keeps it away from them and makes it so they don’t find out you hid it. That’d be hard to explain. Irene will verify your fishing story. It makes both of you look innocent,” Tom said. “Or better yet, take her fishing with you.”
Irene handed Tom a bar of soap. “I don’t fish, and you stink. Any dog will follow your scent as easy as you and me can see a red flag waving in the breeze, but if you get out on the river and scrub yourself, and your new clothes a time or two, maybe the lye in the soap will take off the smell. Maybe make you smell like soap and the dogs might lose the trail.”
Tom slipped it into his pocket with a nod of thanks.
Irene returned to her stove and started cleaning the surface. Gareth caught the reflection of a tear in her eye. Wanting, to say something, his mind refused to cooperate and in the end, he remained quiet. She was remembering her son.
Seth pulled his pole and tackle box off a shelf beside the door.
Irene told them to hurry and be safe, but she was not going anywhere. She had a house to clean.
Seth escorted them outside and led them across a pasture, leading the way down a twisting dirt path past a small flock of sheep to a lone mule munching grass. It eyed them warily as they walked past. The small path entered a stand of willows, and the ground fell away as they neared the river. Two rowboats lay bottoms up, one older but looking serviceable.
Wordlessly, they rolled both and slid them into the edge of the water. Seth said, “Good luck to you, both. I have some fish to catch upstream and hopefully nobody steals my other boat while I’m away.”
Grinning, Tom shook his hand and climbed into the other boat and set the oars into the locks, taking the seat in the middle. Gareth pushed off and leaped into the stern with only one foot getting wet. He settled himself and turned to wave, surprised that the current and a couple of sweeps of the oars had already moved them so far.
Seth stood and watched from the bank. He returned a wave then pushed his boat into the water.
Rounded rocks protruded above the surface of the shallow river near the shore and Tom easily navigated around most of them. At the center of the river, the current flowed faster in the deeper channel. With Tom’s skillful rowing, the boat surged along at a speed Gareth estimated would be about the same as a slow runner on land. If the dogs and bounty hunters were going to catch them, they had better be prepared to run for the next two days. He let out a breath of relief for the first time in what felt like days.
Gareth took the time to examine the river and forest. One glance in Tom’s direction said that despite his change of clothing, haircut, and lack of beard, he was worn out. “Want me to row? I know you’re tired.”
Tom snorted, almost a laugh. “The current’s doing all the work. I just keep the boat centered, but later on, you can take the oars for a spell.”
“Irene and Seth won’t be in trouble for helping us, will they?”
“Not if they stick to their story, which they will. It’s perfectly reasonable for him to be out fishing. You and me stole his old boat. The bounty hunters already know we’re heading for Drakesport, so it’s something they would expect of us. The dogs following us will sniff around the farm and find we were at the house, but not why. Just natural for us to scout around before we stole the boat.”
“Tom, they were so nice to us. We should have made them take that silver coin.”
“They wanted to help. Can’t make a person do something they don’t want to. It’d be insulting to try.”
“Still, I’d feel better.”
“That’s because you have the right instincts, but don’t know how to put them to use, yet. You’ll learn. But, if’n it makes you feel any better I left two silvers on the seat of my chair while Irene cut my hair. She’ll find them soon enough.”
That was the right thing to do. Maybe I’m learning, after all. “Tom, I have something to confess.”
Tom had the boat in the middle of the river, with about fifty feet of water on either side. He sat in his seat so he faced the bow and rowed by pushing the oars forward, a position favored by many seamen, he told Gareth. Sitting that way, he could see ahead without craning his neck and he allowed the current to carry them. He watched Gareth with eyes as cold as the chill in the air. “Out with it.”
“I felt the egg move. The first time it did I thought it was a mistake, but it moved again when we were eating.”
Tom stroked the oars a few more times. “Then we have to hurry. The army buys eggs. Not empty shells.”
“I’m not sure what to do, or if there’s anything I should do.”
“Keep it warm as you can, and we go from there. What else is there?”
The mid-day sun felt comfortable and his belly full. As tired as Gareth had been earlier, he suddenly felt more so. “Can I sleep for a while before I row?”
“I used to have a young crewman just like you. Every time I got him out on the water, he went to sleep. My fishing boat was like a cradle, and he was a babe.”
“We were up all night!”
Tom broke a smile. “You’re the laziest boy I’ve met in a long while. Tell you what, slip over the side and wash yourself good with this soap.” He pulled the rough-cut bar from his pocket. “Irene was right. Maybe make it harder for the dogs to follow and we can use all the help we can find, such as it is. The sun’ll warm you while you dry. I’ll go next. You can get a bit of sleep and then you can take over rowing for me. Now be quiet. Got some thinking to do.”
Later, smelling of strong soap, Gareth smiled as he curled his damp body onto the seat and let the motion of the rowboat lull him to sleep. Things were going to work out. Tom would figure out what to do.
He woke with a start. A sharp movement came from inside the shell of the egg. The bag was next to his stomach. Waiting for a second to collect his thoughts, another sharp jolt drew his attention. Gareth looked around in apprehension nearing fear. The sun had dipped lower in the sky, but there was still a lot of daylight left. He turned and glanced at Tom. He appeared even more haggard than earlier, and his head hung so low his chin nearly touched his chest. Gareth asked, “You awake?”
Tom’s head came up looking startled, and he looked somewhat dazed but nodded.
“The egg just moved again. You’re tired, so change places with me. I’ll row for a while.”
“Know how to row?”
Gareth kept low as he moved to the other seat, forcing Tom to move to the wide seat in the stern. “I’ve been watching you. It looks easy enough.”
“But you’ve never held an oar, have you?”
“Come on. The boat is moving itself. You climb back there and rest.”
Tom settled himself and used one of the rolls of blanket for a pillow propped against the side of the boat. His feet hung over the other side, threatening to dip into the water at any time. “Wake me if you see anything unusual.”
The old man’s snores immediately set a steady rhythm for rowing. Gareth’s first strokes were far too deep, but he soon realized the mistake. His hands burned from the handles of the oars after only a few strokes. He took fewer strokes and let his grip loosen. The river actually seemed to be doing all the work, so he only had to keep the boat centered and away from rocks and overhanging trees. A pull on an oar now and then kept it floating in the right direction and in the middle of the river.
He watched the egg which was now lying on the floorboards near his feet, wondering what to do. It moved a few more times, one end expanding while the other contracted, but he left it alone. It scared him. Beneath the leather shell lived a tiny, fierce creature that existed in the nightmares of brave men. His mind played tricks on him. The creature inside the egg continued to move as if testing the limits of the strength in the shell.