“Minister?”
Sarios returned the call from the lead boat of the other flotilla. “Caerdin. What now?”
Kiva frowned. “You or I to lead the boats? I can’t imagine anyone else knows the routes like we do.”
The minister laughed lightly. “After twenty years of having your head battered with swords I think I’d rather trust my own memory, general. I’ll take the lead.”
With a nod, Kiva sat back heavily against the boat’s side and looked around him as the five-boat flotilla manoeuvred into a tight group at the minister’s instruction. Brendan sat at the other end of the boat, his features twisted with a look of concern and the still form of Marco propped against him. Mercurias and the Pelasian medic together were prodding at his side with worried glances. Kiva tried to see more of what they were doing above the gathered heads of the refugees and clicked his tongue in annoyance.
“How is he?”
Mercurias snorted. “Well, he’s not good. If we get him somewhere stable and quiet soon, he’ll probably make it, but I’m not convinced he’ll ever be a soldier again. He’s lost a lung at least and he’ll probably wheeze and slow down for the rest of his life.”
The Pelasian medic nodded his agreement as he peeled more clothing aside from the wound. Kiva sighed and sack back once more. Another casualty to add to the long list. For two decades the Wolves had taken only minor losses but in the last few weeks they’d come down from twelve to five and one of those would never fight again. Some days the future looked hopeless. Strange really how he used to be comfortable with bleakness and gloom; had lived with it for so long, but in these last months thanks to Quintillian and the islanders, he’d begun to care again. Shame really. When you had no hope, there was nothing to lose, but now the loss of even a civilian prisoner was weighing heavily on his mind. He looked up to see Mercurias watching him.
“ You’re moving well,” the medic said accusingly. “You should be in a lot of pain at the moment. Who’s given you mare’s mead now?”
Kiva shook his head. “Forget about it. Maybe I’m just a quick healer.”
“Pah!” Mercurias turned back to Marco’s side.
Kiva turned to look at the next boat, bobbing along behind and slightly to one side. Tythias sat aboard gazing at a different boat, smiling, as doctor Favio tended to his severed arm with as much patience as an army medic. A smile crept across the general’s face once more; the Lion Riders had a good captain in Tythias. The man had suffered some impressive wounding on the island, matching anything he’d had in the past, losing an arm and yet he’d never looked happier that he did right now, covered in scars and still dripping blood. Kiva didn’t need to turn around to see what it was the one-eyed captain was smiling at; or rather, whom. All in all, though tonight had seen its share of loss, given the odds and the conditions they’d been more successful then they had any right to be, and Kiva had no real complaints. He did wish they’d been able to take the bodies of Jorun, felled by a guardsman’s javelin, and the dozen Pelasians and islanders that had never made it to the shore, but the boats were loaded down enough as it is.
Somewhere in one of the other boats, a man started to sing an old folk song about a sailor lost at sea. With a relieved smile, the general relaxed back as he listened.
The journey through the reefs was long and treacherous; more treacherous than Kiva remembered. The sun’s rays were already tentatively brushing the horizon as the lead boat ran up on to the gravel beach with a crunch. Slowly the occupants stepped out, stretching their cramped legs and loosening their muscles. For many of the islanders this would be the first time they’d ever set foot on the mainland and there were grins and expressions of wonder abounding.
Kiva smiled as he watched a young girl with her arm in a sling crying with worry at this whole new world. Her father crouched and put his arms round her, a wide grin on his own face. The islanders were collectively overwhelmed, but Kiva’s attention was drawn back to the present as his own boat grounded with a crunch that jarred him. As the occupants filed out, one of them stopped to help the wobbly general over the side. With some effort he reached the gravel and leaned heavily on his companion as his legs struggled to support him.
Other boats grounded now and the crowd on the beach grew at a rate of knots. Kiva, with the aid of the helpful islander, struggled across to the rocks that stood proud of the beach and hauled himself up onto them with surprising ease. The flask of mare’s mead was diminishing rapidly, but thanks to its numbing and soothing effects he was able to ignore and overcome the pain and discomfort his wounds caused. Minister Sarios clambered up onto the rocks beside him and the two stood silently until the crowd gradually fell silent and faced them in a huge semi-circle.
“Ok everyone. Listen carefully. We’re currently trapped on this beach. Somewhere on the other side of these low hills is the entire army of Velutio marching toward Serfium. We cannot go inland, and north along the coast will take us straight to Serfium, which we must avoid at all costs. South from here will take us to the city, and I’m sure none of us want to go there. So, make the best you can of this place for now. No one goes far enough away to be out of sight. If you do that, you could find yourself in most unpleasant circumstances.”
Kiva smiled. “By this time the guards will almost certainly have escaped the kitchens on the island, but Commander Sabian assured us that it’ll be at least a week before the next ship to the island and, no matter where they check, the guards will find that we’ve scuppered every other boat on the island and brought every signal lantern with us. While it is possible they’ll find a way to draw attention to the island it will take time, particularly with Velutio and the army away campaigning, so we have some time to play with.”
The general nodded at the minister and Sarios stepped forward to speak.
“Now that we are clear of the reefs, we will rest and then move again at dusk. There are sails stowed away among the gear and we have a number of competent sailors. Once the light starts to fail, we will set off by boat once more, looking for all the world like a small group of night fishermen. It will be too dark for our numbers to be too visible and we are unlikely to attract any unwanted attention. We will sail for however long it takes, I’m afraid, so be prepared for a long journey in some discomfort. The route will take us around the island of Isera once more, this time outside the reefs, to a point south of Monte Bero and the city of Velutio. There, the general and his men will procure transport for us and we will begin the journey into the mountains to a hidden location where we will be safe from our enemies.”
He smiled as he continued. “It will be a long and difficult journey by sea and then by mountain path, but remember while your legs are cramped on board and your feet ache with walking, that every step takes you further from your enemies and that we will be safe and sound at the end of the road.”
Kiva nodded thoughtfully and announced “time to do as you please, so long as you stay within sight of this rock. I would suggest someone starts organising breakfast.”
With that, he turned to the minister and gestured to the rear of the rocky outcrop. Sarios helped the general hobble over to the other side, away from the dispersing crowd.
I know this hidden place of yours is secret, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to share it with me now. I need to know what transport we’ll need and, if you clarify where we’re headed, I might be able to make something of it in future planning.”