Mark
Magic was probably real.
Well, that’s new information, Mark thought.
He could only stare as the human flamethrower killed Dennia’s sons. A jet of flames left the man’s mouth, first hitting the boys, then wandering upwards, setting fire to the closest houses. When it stopped, the whole settlement was in flames.
Mark had lost sight of the boys. Their screams had only lasted for a couple of seconds.
The perpetrator stood at the front of the boat, rubbing a sleeve over his mouth. All movement behind him had ceased. The warriors were frozen in place, probably just as shocked as Mark. The man turned around and said something Mark couldn’t hear over the distance and a moment later, the boat started to make for the shore again.
That was way too much fire being spit for too long a distance, Mark thought. A human’s mouth wouldn’t even come close to being able to hold the amount of fuel needed to sustain the jet of flames for this long.
Was this the second solid piece of evidence that indicated magic existed in this world? The first, of course, was his very presence. The fact he had simply been driving and then suddenly found himself in this strange place. If supernatural forces were real and had brought him here, there had to also be a way back. He would have to find a way to learn more about magic.
Later.
Right now, he had to focus on a different problem. The second boat tried to cut them off. They had identified their course and adjusted the heading for the mouth of the river.
“Can we reach the mouth before that boat gets too close?” he asked.
“We might,” Iristos said. “If we don’t slow down.” He glanced at Atissa, concern in his eyes.
The girl worked the oar with stoic will, matching every pull. But she looked tiny next to Iristos’ bulk. Sweat was already dripping down her face, hiding her tears.
Mark looked back. Their pursuers made steady progress, four oars pushing them through the water of the lake.
There was movement as the men changed positions. If they have their own flamethrower guy, we are… toast, Mark thought. His mouth twisted slightly in distaste in response to his mind’s unintended joke.
“Iristos, should I switch with Atissa?” he asked.
She looked up. Mark could see that his question had hurt her. He shook his head. There was no room here for the pride of a fourteen-year-old. His life was on the line. Atissa’s and Iristos’ as well.
Iristos quickly glanced at Atissa. “I would be faster alone. At least ‘till we make it on the river.”
Mark turned to Atissa. “When Iristos tells you, you hand him your oar and get out of the way.” He raised his hand to forestall any protest. “Get your bow. If that boat gets close enough, you are our only defense. I don’t want to burn like that.” He pointed at the settlement, with what he hoped would be a dramatic gesture.
Atissa froze for a moment but then she gave a single sharp nod. “Ok.”
“Ok,” Mark said, checking the distance to their pursuers again.
Would it make more sense to cower below the railing or to jump overboard when the attack came? He wasn’t the best swimmer, but he should be able to reach the shore. If their attention stayed on the boat, he could make it.
And then you get eaten by bears tomorrow, Mark thought. He was all too aware that he depended on his companions’ skills to survive. Especially Atissa’s. That was why he had insisted on bringing her in the first place. A Swiss pocked knife in human form.
“Now! Move!” Following Iristos' command, Atissa handed him the grip of the oar and dropped from the thwart. Iristos scooted into the middle and started to work both oars in unison. The logger’s powerful arms strained, and their speed increased.
Mark considered their situation. If Iristos could hold this pace, they would reach the river’s mouth first. On the valley’s lakes, they would have no chance. The pursuers had more oars, and they could switch out rowers all the time, forcing a pace the three of them wouldn’t be able to match for long. On the river, they might have a chance if Iristos handled the currents better. He knew the river. Their pursuers did not.
Would the Assanaten pursue them on the river? If they did, there was no telling how this would end.
“Should I try to shoot the rowers?” Atissa asked. She didn’t add 'as the boys did'. She didn’t have to.
Mark hesitated. If she could kill or wound one of the oarsmen, they might be able to significantly increase their lead. The Assanaten might even give up their pursuit. On the other hand, they might retaliate.
Mark trusted Atissa’s abilities. He had seen her shoot two men under very stressful circumstances. But the warriors would see the arrows coming and, most likely, they had shields to protect themselves. He didn’t.
“No, not yet,” he said. “But keep yourself ready. There might be a good moment to get away when we are on the river.”
“We’re getting into the current now,” Iristos said. “It starts weak but gets much stronger around the first curve.”
As they passed the river mouth, Mark could see the curve.
Ipras and the others had told him about the river journey beforehand. During the Drive, the loggers didn’t use boats. It was impossible to travel up the mountain river again. The current was too strong for rowboats loaded with goods. Instead, the loggers built sturdy rafts and stayed close to the shoreline. It was a dangerous journey, but the value of the wood made it worth it.
As they took the first curve, Mark felt the force of the current gripping the boat. The speed increased.
He was suddenly reminded of a mandatory company trip two years previously. One he hadn’t been able to get out of, for once. It had involved a canoe trip and, although he’d enjoyed the physical exercise and clean air, the insects had been a menace. Nature would be nicer without all the living things and the dirt, he thought glancing towards the shoreline.
“They’re not turning back,” Atissa said, grimly.
Their pursuers had decided to follow them onto the river. Mark had no way to guess what their reasoning was.
It was still barely midday. What would happen at nightfall? The plan was to stop before dark and make camp but would the Assanaten let them? Traveling the river at night was something he did not want to contemplate.
“There is the first dangerous rapid,” Iristos said. It was obvious in his voice he was out of breath and beginning to tire.
Looking ahead, Mark could see the area in the middle of the river. Whitewater marked a line where the elevation of the riverbed dropped after passing some rocks. Iristos maneuvered the boat to the right, staying close to the shore. As they left the middle of the river, he had to row harder to maintain their speed.
Mark frowned. Their nature guide back then had explained something about this. He searched his memory for the instructions he had barely listened to.
“They are imitating us,” Atissa said.
She was right. The Assanaten had seen them avoid the rapids and followed them. This was bad. If they could not make the currents work for them, it would be down to endurance. A competition they would surely lose.
They passed the dangerous area and Iristos brought them back to the middle of the river. Again, the enemy followed.
“With the rafts, if we stay close to the shore almost all the time then the boat should be much safer,” Iristos said through his teeth. The young man was strong, but the sprint for the river’s mouth had drained him.
“Let’s switch positions,” Mark said. “You need a break.”
Iristos looked unsure. “You don’t know the river, master,” he said nervously.
“You can direct me. It will be easier if I don’t have to look over my shoulder all the time anyway.”
Iristos gave in. There was really no choice.
Mark took the oars and leaned in.
At his company outing, they had used canoes. The rowboat felt steadier, but it made him quite uncomfortable to sit with the back to the direction of travel. What this thing needs is mirrors, he thought, re-engineering the boat in his mind.
“The water ahead looks wild again,” Atissa said.
“Yeah, there’re a lot of rapids at the first part of the river,” Iristos said wearily. “We will have to go back and forth for the rest of the day.”
The one advantage of looking backward is that you stay motivated, Mark thought grimly, watching their pursuers behind them. They were now close enough that he could see the faces of the men standing in the bow. None of them seemed to wear an elaborate tunic like the flamethrower guy. But there were bows.
“We need to hug the shore now,” Iristos said. “Just use the left oar for two strokes, master.”
Mark complied.
“No, no! The other one.” Iristos almost jumped up.
“Damn it!” Mark corrected their heading. It took time to bring them around to the other side.
“Ok, now both,” Iristos said. “Please, hurry. We’re already close.” He glanced nervously over his shoulder.
Mark didn’t turn around.
My or your left? It had to be one of mankind’s oldest misunderstandings. And it had cost them some of their precious lead.
“Ok, now use…that one.” This time Iristos pointed at the oar. “Ok. One more stroke and then with both again.” Again, their boat was zooming close to the shore. “I’m sorry, master, I made a mistake before.”
Mark wanted to slap him. But that wasn’t the right thing to do here. Plus, his hands were currently busy. “It was a misunderstanding. Forget about the oars. Next time name the direction in which you want to go and point.” By now he could feel the strain in his arms.
They passed the rapids and Iristos directed them back to the middle. Atissa offered to relieve Mark, but he denied her. “We cannot tire out the arms of our only bowman,” he said. She didn’t like it, but she decided not to argue.
“Looks a bit like an arrowhead.” She had mumbled it under her breath, but Mark’s ears perked up.
“What did you say?” he asked.
“Hm?”
“Just now, what did you say?” It had sparked something in the back of his mind.
Atissa looked at him, confused by the sudden intensity in his voice. “The rapids, the ones we just passed. They look kind of like an arrowhead.”
There it was. A half-forgotten memory. An explanation from a river guide in ugly brown shorts from two years back.
Mark smiled.
It was a grim smile, prompting his companions to exchange slightly worried glances.
It’s a chance, Mark thought. If my memories are correct, we might just survive this. It was dangerous. This was obviously not the same river and he had only a vague memory to go by. But they needed to do something. As it stood, their pursuers would catch them. And soon. The enemy might lose patience any moment and start using their bows.
“Atissa, Iristos, I want you to watch out for the next rapid. Try to gauge its form. See if it vaguely resembles an arrow that points up or down the river. Do you understand?”
“No, I…”
“Yes!” Atissa said, interrupting Iristos. Her eyes were filled with renewed confidence.
It made Mark very uncomfortable. In a pinch, the last thing he needed was for his companions to rely on him and whatever abilities these magi were supposed to have.
Another twenty minutes went by and they had to avoid a rapid with larger stones protruding through the water's surface. Atissa said that she had seen an arrow-like flow through the rapid, but Mark didn’t want to risk it. Not with his incomplete knowledge.
“There’s another one,” she shouted. “It is very wide.”
“We can pass it on the left,” Iristos said. “The river is very slow there.”
“Does the outline bend?” Mark asked. “Does it point upriver?”
“Down. It bends downriver,” Atissa said exited. “A little arrow-like shape with a very broad head.”
“We should go straight,” Iristos said. “The river makes a curve. If you hold the current course, we reach the slow-flowing water on the left.” His companions seemed to make him nervous.
“Listen,” Mark said, ignoring him. “Our goal is to go right through the middle of the arrow. The water should flow fastest there. But we don’t want the Assanaten to follow us through. So, we will make for the slow water first. We let the Assanaten see where we’re heading and then change directions.”
Atissa nodded eagerly. She was trying to stay calm but her eyes gave her away, sparkling with excitement.
Iristos looked panicked. “Master, I don’t think…” He broke off. He probably didn’t know how to speak up against the powerful magi.
The loggers had made the river journey for years and they always stayed away from the rapids as much as possible. The only time they approached them was when trunks caught on a rock. According to Iristos, they passed certain particularly tricky areas by sending the rafts over the rapids, secured with a line, while the man walked on the shore.
“Iristos, I know this is dangerous. But we need to do something. We cannot win this race. And the moment they decide to use their bows, it’s over.”
Iristos’ shoulders sagged. He couldn’t refuse Mark’s arguments.
“You need to direct me. We have to cut it as tight as possible,“ Mark said, looking into Iristos' eyes. “I trust you.”
The large man gulped. Then nodded.
Rowing for the slow water, Mark kept his eye on the Assanaten. He slowed down his pace, letting them catch up a bit.
Seeing the pursuing boat close the distance between them filled him with fear. He didn’t let it control him. Unless they started shooting, he was increasing the chances for their scheme to succeed while their overall risk stayed the same. At least that was what his rational mind concluded. His lizard brain was ready to bolt.
Mark’s eyes stayed on Iristos. The young man looked back and forth between the Assanaten, the rapids, and the direction they were currently heading. Waiting for the younger man’s command, Mark stopped himself from looking over his shoulder. You are cutting it damn close, man, he thought.
Iristos turned to him. Mark’s muscles flexed. Iristos looked past him, then back to the rapids again. Talk to me, idiot, Mark thought. He controlled himself and kept his expression calm. Or so he hoped.
“Now! Hard to the right!”
Mark had been waiting tensely for what had felt like an eternity. Now that the command had come, he actually blinked in surprise.
Like Iristos, Atissa turned back and forth between him and the enemy’s boat. “Hurry!”
Mark snapped out of his surprise. He yanked the left oar out of the water and started to work the right. Hard.
The boat turned. They had to change the heading by about ninety degrees. It felt slow.
“They don’t seem to be following us!” Atissa shouted.
Once again, time seemed to drag on until Iristos gave his next command. “Now forwards!” the young man shouted, the respect for Mark’s status forgotten for the moment. “With all you got!”
Mark leaned in. His arms ached. He gritted his teeth and ignored it.
He could have switched with Iristos before, but he couldn’t be sure if the man would execute the plan.
“Guide us right through the middle! Watch the water and look for the main current!” Mark hoped that his instructions were sensible.
He could feel the strength of the current increasing, pulling the boat towards the rapids. Mark had a sudden thought. What happens if we hit them sideways?
That would probably be bad. Were you not supposed to always hit waves with the bow of your ship, so you didn’t capsize? Did the same principle apply here? Sweat ran into his eyes. He was too exhausted to think it through.
“Iristos, we cannot hit the rapids sideways! We have to turn before we reach them!”
“Ok!”
The Assanaten hadn’t changed course, yet. For a moment, their oars ceased moving completely. There seemed to be an argument. Mark could hear several men shouting.
Unfamiliar with handling boats, one of the rowers didn’t lift his oar out of the water. The one-sided resistance made the boat turn left. When the men noticed the problem, it was almost too late. Their stern was about to point downriver. The oarsmen on one side started to work frantically to move them back on the old heading.
Mark smiled grimly. Finally, a bit of luck.
He realized that their pursuers were making a mistake. It would have been easier to just let the boat swing around all the way. They could have used the current instead of fighting it.
Iristos’ shout interrupted his thoughts. “Now, turn left!”
Mark decided to apply his observation. Instead of taking the oar in his right hand out of the water, while paddling frantically with his left, he pointed the right backward. They turned.
In fact, the water resistance made them turn quicker than Mark had expected. He glanced over his shoulder. Where was the middle?
He turned back to Iristos. “Point in the direction you want the boat to align with!”
“…what?”
“Point where to go!”
“Oh, ok. Just turn a little more.”
Their speed increased. The closer they came to the rapids, the stronger the current became.
A quick glance told Mark that the Assanaten had reached the calmer water close to the shore. All heads were turned their way to witness their fate.
The boat hit the rapids and for a couple of seconds, the river became uncomfortable. Facing backward, Mark hadn’t readied himself. Without a seatbelt, his butt left his seat with every bump the waves below caused.
Then they were through.
Iristos had directed them straight through the middle. The current, concentrated by the rapids, pushed them forward.
Mark took a second’s rest and checked the position of their pursuers. Their lead was increasing fast.
He turned to his companions. “We need to increase the distance between us and the Assanaten as much as possible. I will row hard for another couple of minutes. Then we switch.”
He felt the strength of the current below them decreasing and started to row again.
“That was…” Atissa said slowly, exchanging a glance with Iristos.
“Yeah,…” Iristos said.
“It was quite underwhelming,” a third voice said.
They all turned to the stranger, laying in the bow. Apparently, he had found the strength to sit up and rest his back against a sack with supplies. The young man had his eyes closed but a tiny smile played on his lips.
“I had hoped for a bit more excitement. How about you?” He opened his eyes and looked from one to the other. Mark turned back.
Iristos just sat there, open-mouthed. Atissa showed something of an insecure smile.
“Please, don’t give the girl ideas,” Mark said, classifying the man as potential trouble. He shook his head.
There were other priorities that had to be addressed first. Running away from children burning murderers. Not drowning in the process. For the moment, nameless fare dodgers were way down the list.
“Iristos switch places with me,” Mark said.
Taking his seat next to Atissa, Mark closed his eyes. His arms felt very tired. It took a small effort of will to stay focused. No, time to rest yet, he thought. They were not out of danger yet.
Turning around another curve in the river, they lost sight of their pursuers.
“What now?” Atissa asked. Mark could hear the expectation in her voice again. The girl seemed to be more and more convinced that he actually knew what he was doing.
“We should create as much distance as possible,” Mark said, the plan already formed in his mind. “If we’re lucky, there will be more milder rapids we can use to boost our speed.”
Or better, the Assanaten try the same with the wrong type and ram their boat into some rocks, he thought.
“We have to stop at nightfall,” Iristos said. His voice sounded nervous, still, but much less so than before their successful passing.
Mark nodded. “When it gets late, we should look out for a place to land where we can hide the boat. We’ll have to keep our eyes open.”
His companions nodded with different levels of confidence.
“How are you doing?” he asked the young man, sitting in the bow.
There was no answer. The young man had fallen asleep again.
Mark
Magic was probably real.
Well, that’s new information, Mark thought.
He could only stare as the human flamethrower killed Dennia’s sons. A jet of flames left the man’s mouth, first hitting the boys, then wandering upwards, setting fire to the closest houses. When it stopped, the whole settlement was in flames.
Mark had lost sight of the boys. Their screams had only lasted for a couple of seconds.
The perpetrator stood at the front of the boat, rubbing a sleeve over his mouth. All movement behind him had ceased. The warriors were frozen in place, probably just as shocked as Mark. The man turned around and said something Mark couldn’t hear over the distance and a moment later, the boat started to make for the shore again.
That was way too much fire being spit for too long a distance, Mark thought. A human’s mouth wouldn’t even come close to being able to hold the amount of fuel needed to sustain the jet of flames for this long.
Was this the second solid piece of evidence that indicated magic existed in this world? The first, of course, was his very presence. The fact he had simply been driving and then suddenly found himself in this strange place. If supernatural forces were real and had brought him here, there had to also be a way back. He would have to find a way to learn more about magic.
Later.
Right now, he had to focus on a different problem. The second boat tried to cut them off. They had identified their course and adjusted the heading for the mouth of the river.
“Can we reach the mouth before that boat gets too close?” he asked.
“We might,” Iristos said. “If we don’t slow down.” He glanced at Atissa, concern in his eyes.
The girl worked the oar with stoic will, matching every pull. But she looked tiny next to Iristos’ bulk. Sweat was already dripping down her face, hiding her tears.
Mark looked back. Their pursuers made steady progress, four oars pushing them through the water of the lake.
There was movement as the men changed positions. If they have their own flamethrower guy, we are… toast, Mark thought. His mouth twisted slightly in distaste in response to his mind’s unintended joke.
“Iristos, should I switch with Atissa?” he asked.
She looked up. Mark could see that his question had hurt her. He shook his head. There was no room here for the pride of a fourteen-year-old. His life was on the line. Atissa’s and Iristos’ as well.
Iristos quickly glanced at Atissa. “I would be faster alone. At least ‘till we make it on the river.”
Mark turned to Atissa. “When Iristos tells you, you hand him your oar and get out of the way.” He raised his hand to forestall any protest. “Get your bow. If that boat gets close enough, you are our only defense. I don’t want to burn like that.” He pointed at the settlement, with what he hoped would be a dramatic gesture.
Atissa froze for a moment but then she gave a single sharp nod. “Ok.”
“Ok,” Mark said, checking the distance to their pursuers again.
Would it make more sense to cower below the railing or to jump overboard when the attack came? He wasn’t the best swimmer, but he should be able to reach the shore. If their attention stayed on the boat, he could make it.
And then you get eaten by bears tomorrow, Mark thought. He was all too aware that he depended on his companions’ skills to survive. Especially Atissa’s. That was why he had insisted on bringing her in the first place. A Swiss pocked knife in human form.
“Now! Move!” Following Iristos' command, Atissa handed him the grip of the oar and dropped from the thwart. Iristos scooted into the middle and started to work both oars in unison. The logger’s powerful arms strained, and their speed increased.
Mark considered their situation. If Iristos could hold this pace, they would reach the river’s mouth first. On the valley’s lakes, they would have no chance. The pursuers had more oars, and they could switch out rowers all the time, forcing a pace the three of them wouldn’t be able to match for long. On the river, they might have a chance if Iristos handled the currents better. He knew the river. Their pursuers did not.
Would the Assanaten pursue them on the river? If they did, there was no telling how this would end.
“Should I try to shoot the rowers?” Atissa asked. She didn’t add 'as the boys did'. She didn’t have to.
Mark hesitated. If she could kill or wound one of the oarsmen, they might be able to significantly increase their lead. The Assanaten might even give up their pursuit. On the other hand, they might retaliate.
Mark trusted Atissa’s abilities. He had seen her shoot two men under very stressful circumstances. But the warriors would see the arrows coming and, most likely, they had shields to protect themselves. He didn’t.
“No, not yet,” he said. “But keep yourself ready. There might be a good moment to get away when we are on the river.”
“We’re getting into the current now,” Iristos said. “It starts weak but gets much stronger around the first curve.”
As they passed the river mouth, Mark could see the curve.
Ipras and the others had told him about the river journey beforehand. During the Drive, the loggers didn’t use boats. It was impossible to travel up the mountain river again. The current was too strong for rowboats loaded with goods. Instead, the loggers built sturdy rafts and stayed close to the shoreline. It was a dangerous journey, but the value of the wood made it worth it.
As they took the first curve, Mark felt the force of the current gripping the boat. The speed increased.
He was suddenly reminded of a mandatory company trip two years previously. One he hadn’t been able to get out of, for once. It had involved a canoe trip and, although he’d enjoyed the physical exercise and clean air, the insects had been a menace. Nature would be nicer without all the living things and the dirt, he thought glancing towards the shoreline.
“They’re not turning back,” Atissa said, grimly.
Their pursuers had decided to follow them onto the river. Mark had no way to guess what their reasoning was.
It was still barely midday. What would happen at nightfall? The plan was to stop before dark and make camp but would the Assanaten let them? Traveling the river at night was something he did not want to contemplate.
“There is the first dangerous rapid,” Iristos said. It was obvious in his voice he was out of breath and beginning to tire.
Looking ahead, Mark could see the area in the middle of the river. Whitewater marked a line where the elevation of the riverbed dropped after passing some rocks. Iristos maneuvered the boat to the right, staying close to the shore. As they left the middle of the river, he had to row harder to maintain their speed.
Mark frowned. Their nature guide back then had explained something about this. He searched his memory for the instructions he had barely listened to.
“They are imitating us,” Atissa said.
She was right. The Assanaten had seen them avoid the rapids and followed them. This was bad. If they could not make the currents work for them, it would be down to endurance. A competition they would surely lose.
They passed the dangerous area and Iristos brought them back to the middle of the river. Again, the enemy followed.
“With the rafts, if we stay close to the shore almost all the time then the boat should be much safer,” Iristos said through his teeth. The young man was strong, but the sprint for the river’s mouth had drained him.
“Let’s switch positions,” Mark said. “You need a break.”
Iristos looked unsure. “You don’t know the river, master,” he said nervously.
“You can direct me. It will be easier if I don’t have to look over my shoulder all the time anyway.”
Iristos gave in. There was really no choice.
Mark took the oars and leaned in.
At his company outing, they had used canoes. The rowboat felt steadier, but it made him quite uncomfortable to sit with the back to the direction of travel. What this thing needs is mirrors, he thought, re-engineering the boat in his mind.
“The water ahead looks wild again,” Atissa said.
“Yeah, there’re a lot of rapids at the first part of the river,” Iristos said wearily. “We will have to go back and forth for the rest of the day.”
The one advantage of looking backward is that you stay motivated, Mark thought grimly, watching their pursuers behind them. They were now close enough that he could see the faces of the men standing in the bow. None of them seemed to wear an elaborate tunic like the flamethrower guy. But there were bows.
“We need to hug the shore now,” Iristos said. “Just use the left oar for two strokes, master.”
Mark complied.
“No, no! The other one.” Iristos almost jumped up.
“Damn it!” Mark corrected their heading. It took time to bring them around to the other side.
“Ok, now both,” Iristos said. “Please, hurry. We’re already close.” He glanced nervously over his shoulder.
Mark didn’t turn around.
My or your left? It had to be one of mankind’s oldest misunderstandings. And it had cost them some of their precious lead.
“Ok, now use…that one.” This time Iristos pointed at the oar. “Ok. One more stroke and then with both again.” Again, their boat was zooming close to the shore. “I’m sorry, master, I made a mistake before.”
Mark wanted to slap him. But that wasn’t the right thing to do here. Plus, his hands were currently busy. “It was a misunderstanding. Forget about the oars. Next time name the direction in which you want to go and point.” By now he could feel the strain in his arms.
They passed the rapids and Iristos directed them back to the middle. Atissa offered to relieve Mark, but he denied her. “We cannot tire out the arms of our only bowman,” he said. She didn’t like it, but she decided not to argue.
“Looks a bit like an arrowhead.” She had mumbled it under her breath, but Mark’s ears perked up.
“What did you say?” he asked.
“Hm?”
“Just now, what did you say?” It had sparked something in the back of his mind.
Atissa looked at him, confused by the sudden intensity in his voice. “The rapids, the ones we just passed. They look kind of like an arrowhead.”
There it was. A half-forgotten memory. An explanation from a river guide in ugly brown shorts from two years back.
Mark smiled.
It was a grim smile, prompting his companions to exchange slightly worried glances.
It’s a chance, Mark thought. If my memories are correct, we might just survive this. It was dangerous. This was obviously not the same river and he had only a vague memory to go by. But they needed to do something. As it stood, their pursuers would catch them. And soon. The enemy might lose patience any moment and start using their bows.
“Atissa, Iristos, I want you to watch out for the next rapid. Try to gauge its form. See if it vaguely resembles an arrow that points up or down the river. Do you understand?”
“No, I…”
“Yes!” Atissa said, interrupting Iristos. Her eyes were filled with renewed confidence.
It made Mark very uncomfortable. In a pinch, the last thing he needed was for his companions to rely on him and whatever abilities these magi were supposed to have.
Another twenty minutes went by and they had to avoid a rapid with larger stones protruding through the water's surface. Atissa said that she had seen an arrow-like flow through the rapid, but Mark didn’t want to risk it. Not with his incomplete knowledge.
“There’s another one,” she shouted. “It is very wide.”
“We can pass it on the left,” Iristos said. “The river is very slow there.”
“Does the outline bend?” Mark asked. “Does it point upriver?”
“Down. It bends downriver,” Atissa said exited. “A little arrow-like shape with a very broad head.”
“We should go straight,” Iristos said. “The river makes a curve. If you hold the current course, we reach the slow-flowing water on the left.” His companions seemed to make him nervous.
“Listen,” Mark said, ignoring him. “Our goal is to go right through the middle of the arrow. The water should flow fastest there. But we don’t want the Assanaten to follow us through. So, we will make for the slow water first. We let the Assanaten see where we’re heading and then change directions.”
Atissa nodded eagerly. She was trying to stay calm but her eyes gave her away, sparkling with excitement.
Iristos looked panicked. “Master, I don’t think…” He broke off. He probably didn’t know how to speak up against the powerful magi.
The loggers had made the river journey for years and they always stayed away from the rapids as much as possible. The only time they approached them was when trunks caught on a rock. According to Iristos, they passed certain particularly tricky areas by sending the rafts over the rapids, secured with a line, while the man walked on the shore.
“Iristos, I know this is dangerous. But we need to do something. We cannot win this race. And the moment they decide to use their bows, it’s over.”
Iristos’ shoulders sagged. He couldn’t refuse Mark’s arguments.
“You need to direct me. We have to cut it as tight as possible,“ Mark said, looking into Iristos' eyes. “I trust you.”
The large man gulped. Then nodded.
Rowing for the slow water, Mark kept his eye on the Assanaten. He slowed down his pace, letting them catch up a bit.
Seeing the pursuing boat close the distance between them filled him with fear. He didn’t let it control him. Unless they started shooting, he was increasing the chances for their scheme to succeed while their overall risk stayed the same. At least that was what his rational mind concluded. His lizard brain was ready to bolt.
Mark’s eyes stayed on Iristos. The young man looked back and forth between the Assanaten, the rapids, and the direction they were currently heading. Waiting for the younger man’s command, Mark stopped himself from looking over his shoulder. You are cutting it damn close, man, he thought.
Iristos turned to him. Mark’s muscles flexed. Iristos looked past him, then back to the rapids again. Talk to me, idiot, Mark thought. He controlled himself and kept his expression calm. Or so he hoped.
“Now! Hard to the right!”
Mark had been waiting tensely for what had felt like an eternity. Now that the command had come, he actually blinked in surprise.
Like Iristos, Atissa turned back and forth between him and the enemy’s boat. “Hurry!”
Mark snapped out of his surprise. He yanked the left oar out of the water and started to work the right. Hard.
The boat turned. They had to change the heading by about ninety degrees. It felt slow.
“They don’t seem to be following us!” Atissa shouted.
Once again, time seemed to drag on until Iristos gave his next command. “Now forwards!” the young man shouted, the respect for Mark’s status forgotten for the moment. “With all you got!”
Mark leaned in. His arms ached. He gritted his teeth and ignored it.
He could have switched with Iristos before, but he couldn’t be sure if the man would execute the plan.
“Guide us right through the middle! Watch the water and look for the main current!” Mark hoped that his instructions were sensible.
He could feel the strength of the current increasing, pulling the boat towards the rapids. Mark had a sudden thought. What happens if we hit them sideways?
That would probably be bad. Were you not supposed to always hit waves with the bow of your ship, so you didn’t capsize? Did the same principle apply here? Sweat ran into his eyes. He was too exhausted to think it through.
“Iristos, we cannot hit the rapids sideways! We have to turn before we reach them!”
“Ok!”
The Assanaten hadn’t changed course, yet. For a moment, their oars ceased moving completely. There seemed to be an argument. Mark could hear several men shouting.
Unfamiliar with handling boats, one of the rowers didn’t lift his oar out of the water. The one-sided resistance made the boat turn left. When the men noticed the problem, it was almost too late. Their stern was about to point downriver. The oarsmen on one side started to work frantically to move them back on the old heading.
Mark smiled grimly. Finally, a bit of luck.
He realized that their pursuers were making a mistake. It would have been easier to just let the boat swing around all the way. They could have used the current instead of fighting it.
Iristos’ shout interrupted his thoughts. “Now, turn left!”
Mark decided to apply his observation. Instead of taking the oar in his right hand out of the water, while paddling frantically with his left, he pointed the right backward. They turned.
In fact, the water resistance made them turn quicker than Mark had expected. He glanced over his shoulder. Where was the middle?
He turned back to Iristos. “Point in the direction you want the boat to align with!”
“…what?”
“Point where to go!”
“Oh, ok. Just turn a little more.”
Their speed increased. The closer they came to the rapids, the stronger the current became.
A quick glance told Mark that the Assanaten had reached the calmer water close to the shore. All heads were turned their way to witness their fate.
The boat hit the rapids and for a couple of seconds, the river became uncomfortable. Facing backward, Mark hadn’t readied himself. Without a seatbelt, his butt left his seat with every bump the waves below caused.
Then they were through.
Iristos had directed them straight through the middle. The current, concentrated by the rapids, pushed them forward.
Mark took a second’s rest and checked the position of their pursuers. Their lead was increasing fast.
He turned to his companions. “We need to increase the distance between us and the Assanaten as much as possible. I will row hard for another couple of minutes. Then we switch.”
He felt the strength of the current below them decreasing and started to row again.
“That was…” Atissa said slowly, exchanging a glance with Iristos.
“Yeah,…” Iristos said.
“It was quite underwhelming,” a third voice said.
They all turned to the stranger, laying in the bow. Apparently, he had found the strength to sit up and rest his back against a sack with supplies. The young man had his eyes closed but a tiny smile played on his lips.
“I had hoped for a bit more excitement. How about you?” He opened his eyes and looked from one to the other. Mark turned back.
Iristos just sat there, open-mouthed. Atissa showed something of an insecure smile.
“Please, don’t give the girl ideas,” Mark said, classifying the man as potential trouble. He shook his head.
There were other priorities that had to be addressed first. Running away from children burning murderers. Not drowning in the process. For the moment, nameless fare dodgers were way down the list.
“Iristos switch places with me,” Mark said.
Taking his seat next to Atissa, Mark closed his eyes. His arms felt very tired. It took a small effort of will to stay focused. No, time to rest yet, he thought. They were not out of danger yet.
Turning around another curve in the river, they lost sight of their pursuers.
“What now?” Atissa asked. Mark could hear the expectation in her voice again. The girl seemed to be more and more convinced that he actually knew what he was doing.
“We should create as much distance as possible,” Mark said, the plan already formed in his mind. “If we’re lucky, there will be more milder rapids we can use to boost our speed.”
Or better, the Assanaten try the same with the wrong type and ram their boat into some rocks, he thought.
“We have to stop at nightfall,” Iristos said. His voice sounded nervous, still, but much less so than before their successful passing.
Mark nodded. “When it gets late, we should look out for a place to land where we can hide the boat. We’ll have to keep our eyes open.”
His companions nodded with different levels of confidence.
“How are you doing?” he asked the young man, sitting in the bow.
There was no answer. The young man had fallen asleep again.
