“A beach, sir.”
Zirga shook his head. “You idiot! I meant did you see tracks or signs of a boat being dragged up on the sand?”
“Not so’s you’d notice, but then…I wasn’t looking.”
Zirga shook his head, and his expression was one of disbelief.
“I mean, I was lookin’ for the men. You want me to go back and look for tracks?”
Zirga said, “No need. They’re not on the island.”
Anatoli said, “What’ll we do?”
Zirga took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. To Royce he said, “Cook us something to eat.” To the others he said, “We wait.”
“Wait? For what?” asked Kyle.
“For the first ship to show up and take us away.”
“Away? Where are we going?” asked Royce as he moved toward the pantry.
“Anywhere but Opardum,” said Zirga. “When the Duke finds out we let seventeen prisoners just walk off this island, he’ll send another governor and four new guards and we five will be the first new prisoners in this place.”
“I wouldn’t like that,” said Anatoli.
Zirga just shook his head and covered his eyes. “Bring me some brandy. That’s a good lad.”
Anatoli did as he was told, and Zirga sat back, looking around the kitchen. “I’ve got some gold put by, so maybe I can find something to do up in County Conar. I’ve got a cousin down in a village near the border of Salmater. He might have a place for me. Wherever I end up, lads, it’s going to be far from here.” He heaved a regretful sigh. “But I’m really going to miss those meals.”
The other three nodded and voiced agreement as Royce started to cook.
By midday Tal judged they had gone farther north than he had anticipated, and it was more difficult moving toward the mainland than Tal had anticipated. They seemed to get no closer to land no matter how hard they paddled. He could faintly see white water breaking on the shores, so he knew they were no more than two miles out, but for the last hour they didn’t seem to have been closing.
He looked at the men in the water and saw that several were showing signs of succumbing to the cold water. He ordered the paddlers into the water, then motioned for Will to follow him into the sea. He then told those looking weakest to get out and try to get as dry as possible in the sun as fresh paddlers took up their positions. There was a breeze blowing, which would help them dry out, but to Tal’s irritation, it was blowing to the northeast, so the primitive sail would be of no use to them.
Tal watched closely and saw that two of the men who had just come out of the water were in serious trouble. Their teeth were chattering uncontrollably and they could barely hang on as they crouched on the logs. “Sit athwart and let your feet dangle, and keep your hands on the log, so you don’t fall in,” he instructed them. He knew that once their shirts dried they’d start feeling the heat of the sun, but it would be a close thing.
He gauged the progress they were making as best he could from in the water, but after nearly ten minutes, he thought, if anything, they were farther away. To those in the water with him, he said, “Kick.”
He put his one good hand around the pole before him, then started kicking as hard as he could. The others followed his example while the paddlers redoubled their effort. After a few minutes, he shouted, “Are we getting closer?”
“Yes,” came the answer from one of the men sitting before the mast. “I’d say we were. Keep it up.”
For nearly half an hour the men in the water kicked, but except for Captain Quint, they were tiring quickly. Tal called out, “Who feels fit to get in the water and kick?”
Four of the men who had been in the water an hour before indicated they were willing to trade places, and Tal organized a rotation of men in and out of the water. When it came time for him to climb out and rest, he could barely hoist himself up onto the logs without help. He huffed and took several deep breaths until he caught his wind, then he moved forward, scooting along on a log, until he could stand by the mast.
He saw they were making progress toward the mainland. “Another hour!” he yelled encouragingly, “That’s all it will take, and we’ll be in the breakers!”
That seemed to revive the men in the water a bit, and they redoubled their efforts. Tal looked around and considered himself fortunate. He had thought he might lose as many as four or five men getting to the mainland, but at the moment it looked as if all of them would get to shore.
Then he saw the first shark fin cutting toward the raft.
Sixteen
Survival
Tal stared.