Chapter 12

Faahiha dropped me off at Kromaan at about half past four in the morning. I knew the first coaches weren’t due to leave until seven, but that then there were four due to leave in different directions. There were three coaches parked outside an inn – I guessed probably Kromaan’s only inn – a stone’s throw from where Faahiha left me. I guessed the fourth coach would be arriving from somewhere – presumably somewhere not far away, unless it was an overnight service. I didn’t even know whether such services existed.

At least I didn’t have to hang around freezing. The innkeeper had heard the train stop and start again, and came out to see what was going on. He saw me walking up the street, and called softly, “You catching a coach somewhere later on? Come into the warm to wait. Have you had breakfast? I’ve just started making it.”

I had, but that was nearly two hours earlier, and I’d got cold walking down to the railway yard. Faahiha’s fire had helped a lot, but my feet were still cold.

“I have, but that was hours ago and I’m cold and another one sounds wonderful.”

“Okay. I’ll do you a small one then. You don’t want to be too full riding in a coach. Have some hot skiir while you’re waiting, anyway.”

I assumed that this inn would be a place I’d have to pay in coins, and wondered how much the bill would be. I’ve got to learn these things, and it’s not going to break the bank.

Breakfast was in two sittings. I ate my half breakfast with the coach drivers and the innkeeper and his family.

One of the coach drivers turned to me, “Where are you headed, then, young man?”

“Maybe back into Laanoha, I don’t actually know yet. I’m trying to find a young lady...”

I was interrupted before I could go on. “Aren’t we all!”

Laughter, but the innkeeper’s wife looked daggers at the men. “Gentlemen – if I can call you that! The children are here! I think he probably meant a particular young lady, didn’t you, young man?”

I mentally translated the word she used as ‘particular’, and was glad that it didn’t have the same ambiguity it has in English.

“Indeed I did, Madam, and thank you. She’s quite small, not much bigger than your daughter, and quite slender, and of course she’d be a stranger around here. She’d most likely have come four days ago, the morning it was very foggy. I don’t know whether she came this way at all, but if she did, I’d be most grateful if you could tell me. I’d like a ride to wherever she went.”

The three coach drivers agreed that none of them had had such a passenger that day, or indeed recently at all. “Preysh will be here with the Karrem coach from Laanoha soon. She could have been one of his. Seems fairly likely, in fact. That was four days ago, so it was Preysh that morning. From what you said, I guess she probably used the foggy morning to evade the guards coming out of Laanoha, then she might have caught Preysh on the ferry.

“I can see by your face I’m right. I can read you like a book, mister.”

Laughter again, this time more from the innkeeper’s wife than anybody else. “That’s good coming from you, Boorman. Read a book? If only.”

Boorman himself was laughing too. “You want to be glad we’re honest men around here, mister. Any of us could’ve said we’d taken her, and taken you for a ride anywhere.”

Now it was the innkeeper’s turn to laugh. “Honest? I don’t know about that. But you know very well that you’d go hungry and cold here and probably everywhere else if you were caught out.”

The coach drivers finished their breakfasts and went out to tend their horses. The innkeeper moved me to a chair by the fire, and began to set out the passengers’ breakfasts.

I stared into the fire for a while. I wonder if Preysh – this other Preysh – did pick Aila up? Where is this Karrem place? How far? How long does it take? How big is it? What would she do there? Or does the coach stop anywhere else on the way, or is there anywhere to go on to from there?

The bill was a half coin for a half breakfast, and an eighth for a skiir. I see. That seems pretty reasonable. I wonder how much coach rides are?

The innkeeper alerted me to the sound of the Karrem coach arriving. “He’ll probably come in here for a skiir, but you’d better go out and meet him in case he doesn’t.”

It seemed that Aila hadn’t caught the Karrem coach, either. The four coaches went their four ways, and I returned to the inn. “Don’t worry, son. You’ll find her. How likely do you think it is she’d have got to the ferry by six in the morning, at this time of year? If she really did have to avoid the guards, she must have walked all the way round the foot of the point and along the riverside in the mud under the edge of the quays. In the dark? I think the eleven o’clock coaches are much more likely. There’s three of them, and two of them come from Laanoha as well.”

The innkeeper started to pour out another skiir. I gestured not to, but he carried on. “On the house. The missus says you’re a good man to go after her like this, and I’m to look after you.”

They think I’m less well off than I am. I’ll accept their generosity for the moment, but I’ll remember them. I made a mental note to put a written note in my notebook later.

“You’re not from round here at all, are you? Your Laana is pretty good, but it’s not your own language.”

“True. I’m a very long way from where I come from, but my home’s here now. But I don’t know my way around very well yet. I’d never heard of Karrem before, for example.”

“Oh, Karrem’s only a little place. Bigger than Kromaan, but not big. It’s about a third of the way to Barioha, just at the foot of the mountains. I guess from the way you arrived that you must have railway friends. Do you know the places on the railway?”

“Between here and Briggi, yes. But I’ve never been to Barioha or Meyroha.”

“Ah, okay. I’ve never been beyond Belgaam, but I’ve got relatives there and we’ve been a few times for family occasions. Karrem’s bigger than Belgaam, but nowhere near as big as Briggi, judging by what people say.”

“Where do the other coaches go?”

“Boorman goes into Laanoha, and then goes on west to Iimoni. Juk goes north to Imblim, and then tomorrow goes along the foot of the mountains to Gorb, so his round trip is four days. Emon goes to Baragi and back.”

“Does he do that every day?”

“Well, four days out of five, yes. Has done for fifteen years now, apart from three weeks when he was ill a few years ago. The others reduced their services a bit so they could take turns at doing a couple of his. It wasn’t too bad, but people got confused about which coaches went where, and when. We ended up with people sleeping all over the place. It was lucky it was summer. If it had been winter we’d have run out of bedding.”

“What about the eleven o’clock ones?”

“One of them’s Baragi to Laanoha, the others are Laanoha to Griishi and Laanoha to Imblim.”

“Then there’s more later in the day?”

“Yes, but I think it’s most likely your young lady got here in the morning if she used the fog to evade the guards. Of course if she wanted to catch a particular coach later in the day, she could have stayed somewhere else for a few hours, who knows? But she didn’t come into the inn. We’ll see what the eleven o’clock drivers say.”

Aila – or someone matching her description – had caught the Griishi coach at the ferry, but not just four days ago. “That was about three weeks ago, mister. But I noticed her especially, because she was wearing house shoes, and she was freezing. And none of the Griishi regulars seemed to know her at all. I was a bit worried about her, to be honest, but what could I do? She said she wanted to go to Griishi, and she paid for her ride. I got her a hot water bottle from the inn. You probably remember her, Kemmina? I think you were on the coach that day.”

“I was. I noticed her especially, too. None of us did know her, you’re right, and she obviously didn’t know Griishi at all. She was listening intently to all the conversation in the coach, but scarcely said anything herself. She did ask one or two questions, and they seemed to have been carefully thought out first. When we got there, she looked all round, then headed straight for the inn. I’ve not seen her around Griishi since, and nobody’s mentioned her to me.”

Two of the six seats in the coach were vacant. “Three and a half coins. One and a half with me in the box, but you don’t want to be up there in this weather.” I took a seat inside, and Kemmina climbed in and sat opposite me in the other vacant seat. The other passengers had never got out.

I’d no idea what I’d do when I got to Griishi. I’m sure that was her. I’ll listen intently to all the conversation in the coach too, and ask one or two carefully thought out questions. But what happened to her boots? And how did she get enough money for the coach, without working somewhere for a bit first? Berraami was sure she’d run out at Baragi without anything. Sold her boots? It’s possible, I suppose – I don’t know what’s possible in Laanoha. Then tucked her skirt into her knickers, went barefoot through the mud, then washed her feet in the river by the ferry. No wonder she was freezing. I was pretty sure I’d solved the conundrum, and it wasn’t a happy thought.

Despite the big curved springs supporting the coach, it jerked and jolted the whole time.

Kemmina was sitting opposite me, and tried to grill me about Aila, but I pretended to understand Laana less well than I really did, and she accepted that. I didn’t glean much from other conversations in the coach. None of the other passengers had been on the coach the day Aila was, and their talk meant nothing to me. I wondered how much more it might have meant to someone who had more context to put it into.

At about two, we stopped for lunch at an inn in a village whose name I forget. Lunch was a good sized piece of fried fish, with vegetables and skiir, and it cost me one and three eighths. I’ll slowly get the hang of money here. I already knew the price of raw food in the market in Laanoha, from going shopping with Yaana, but that hadn’t given me much idea of the prices of things in general.

There was less talk after lunch. Some of the passengers went to sleep. We lurched on.

I tried to watch the countryside, but found the movement of the coach made it very difficult, and it seemed to make my headache worse. That’s annoying. It would be good to get to know what the area is like. I like riding on engines – you can see much better. It’s noisy, but the ride is lovely and smooth. Maybe it’s better on the roof of a coach. At least I’d be able to see in all directions, and the air would be better. But the driver’s right that it would be cold. And the movement would be even more erratic.

We arrived somewhere just before sunset. Kemmina told me it was Griishi. We seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. All I could see was just an inn and couple of houses, but when I got out I could see that the road became a narrow track between rocks only a few metres beyond the houses. Beyond that the land dropped away, but I could see chimneys sticking up, and beyond them the sea thirty metres or more below us.

The passengers who were awake woke the others, and everybody clambered out. Kemmina grabbed my arm with a gloved hand, and whispered in my ear, “Good luck, young man. I’ll come up to the inn later.”

I wondered for a moment why on earth she would do that. She must know more than she wanted to reveal in front of the other passengers, it’s the only thing I can think of. She followed the other passengers over the edge towards the village before I could thank her.

Two lads came out of the inn, and started carrying packages into the inn from the box on the rear of the coach. The driver and I went into the inn.

The innkeeper fed us and skiired us, and then sat by the fire with us. For a short while I just stared into the fire, wondering what on earth to do next. Then the innkeeper spoke.

“Well, it’s not often we get strangers here. Do you mind if I ask you who you are, and why you’re here?”

“No, I don’t mind. In fact, you can probably help me. I’m Owen, and I’m trying to find my young lady. I believe she may have arrived here about three weeks ago, probably looking for work.” I’ve got to trust someone, risky as it is, and he’s surely as good a person to trust as anyone. And I know she came in here – if she was Aila. Surely she was?

“Does your young lady have a name?”

“She does, but I don’t think she’d be using it. I don’t know what she’d be calling herself.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the driver nodding gently to himself – or maybe to me. I didn’t think the innkeeper could see it, and I think the driver would have known that too.

“She didn’t come in here, as far as I know. I’ll ask my wife if she saw her.”

The driver was shaking his head gently. Now I knew it was for my benefit, but what it meant, I wasn’t sure.

The innkeeper disappeared into another room. Moments later a young woman appeared with a bowl. Without a word, she sat at a table near us, and started to peel vegetables. I waited for her to say something, but she just sat and worked in silence. Peeling vegetables after the evening meal? Are they expecting more guests, wanting a late supper? Or will she leave them in water overnight? Seems strange.

I wanted to ask her if she was the innkeeper’s wife, but something held me back. She can’t be. She’s less than half his age.

She finished her peeling, and took the bowl back into what I assumed was a separate kitchen. After a short while an older woman came out. Ah, now. She is the innkeeper’s wife. That’ll have been their daughter, I expect.

She came and sat by the fire, and looked at me intently. Then she smiled. “Okay, you really are Owen. I’m pleased to meet you. I’m Kammeni. Your young lady was here. I’m afraid she’s not here any more, though, and I don’t know where she is. She’s a very frightened young lady, you know. She was here for three days, then I think she must have taken a fright. She never said a word about going, but I saw her catch the coach to Karrem. She was calling herself Griima, but I was sure that wasn’t her real name. It’s not, is it?”

So it really was Aila. There’s no reasonable doubt. So I’ve got to go to Karrem – tomorrow. Kammeni – Kemmina? Sisters? She looks like her.

“No, it’s not. But I know how she chose that name.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t want to know her real name. The fewer people know that, the better, I’m sure. It would be good if you could use a false name too, or at least not be too open about it.”

“Are you sure she took a fright? Could she simply have been looking for work, and not found any here?”

“It’s possible, but I don’t think so. The very first day, she came back in the afternoon with a whole bag full of ekraahi and wanted to know if I wanted them. I gave her five coins for them, and they were very popular with the diners. Then she asked me if I’d like some bird’s eggs or bird meat or seaweed, and could she borrow a rope? She’s a tough one, your young lady – she’s a better auker than any of the lads here. Most of them don’t even bother these days. She was out on the cliffs all the next day, all on her own, then the day after that she plucked and gutted the lot, about sixty of them. They’re drying round the chimney upstairs now, and we’ve got enough eggs to last us weeks as well. She got on well with our niece, too – and our sons. I was sorry to see her go, but what can you do?”

What can I do indeed? I wonder how far she’ll have gone in three weeks? And she’s afraid. She really does think Jerem – or his family – could be after her. I wonder if they are?

“Has anyone else been asking about her?”

“Not as far as I know. Have you heard anything, Gobiir?”

“No, I haven’t. I’ve had no strangers in the coach recently apart from her and Owen. And I shan’t mention your name, or indeed the fact that I’ve had strangers on the coach at all, to a soul, Owen. I can tell whose side right is on! I’ll mention it quietly to Skiimon to keep quiet, too.”

“Skiimon?”

“Oh, of course, you don’t know his name. He’s the innkeeper at Kromaan. He knows you were looking. He’ll have guessed I must have taken your young lady, too, when you caught my coach.”

I heard someone in the hallway, and Kemmina came in. She looked all around the room, then came and sat with us by the fire. “I’m sorry. I said too much in the coach. I don’t think it’ll matter, but I’m not completely certain. I hope it won’t.”

She turned to Kammeni. “You’ve realized he’s really Owen, too?”

“Yes. Biilam wasn’t sure, and sent Kiimi out for her opinion. She was pretty sure, but told me to make absolutely sure. And I am, yes.”

“Do you have any idea what she’s so scared of?”

“No, but I’m sure you do. She’s afraid of someone following her, for whatever reason. She’s not scared of you, but she’s scared what might happen to you if you follow her, you know that? And she’s not one to be easily frightened, I can tell. I saw her on the cliffs. She’s no daredevil, she’s very careful. But not many boys have the courage to do what she was doing.”

“And she doesn’t want the rich folks to see her, I’ve noticed that. That’s why I said I hadn’t seen her, when of course I had – I suddenly realized who else we’d got in the coach. But she’d left Griishi within a few days. I doubt if either of those two boys know much about anything, but who knows? And I don’t remember who was in the coach when she came, do you, Gobiir?”

“No, not really. I only remembered that you were there that day because I remembered you trying to talk to her on the ferry, after she’d asked me where I was going. I don’t think there can have been anyone there who made her particularly nervous, though. I remember she put her hood down after Kromaan. I think she was very nervous about the possibility of anyone seeing her at Kromaan.”

That figures. But don’t say anything!

Kammeni got up. “There’ll be diners here soon. I think you should come into the kitchen, Owen. Let them think you’re family, if they know you’re here at all.”

Kemmina came into the kitchen too, leaving Gobiir alone by the fire. He seemed reflective.

Biilam was working at the range, frying meat – bird meat of some sort, by the look of it. He looked round as we came in. “Has anyone arrived yet?”

“No, that was just Kemmina, no-one else. There’s only Gobiir out there just now.”

Biilam turned to me. “I’m sorry I was so distrusting, but I’m sure you understand.”

“I certainly do. Thank you very much for being so careful! I’ll be following her tomorrow, of course. Does the Karrem coach leave from here? What time?”

“There’s no coach for Karrem tomorrow, it only goes alternate days. One day Karrem to here, next day back again, same as Gobiir from Laanoha, but the alternate days. They never meet each other at all!”

We all laughed for a moment, but not for long. “That has one unfortunate consequence. Falbaash scarcely knows Gobiir at all, and we’ve not talked about Griima with him. He might have realized he ought to keep quiet about her, but he probably hasn’t.”

“We’d not said anything to Gobiir, either, and he hadn’t realized. Why would they? It’s lucky Owen’s come before anyone else.”

“If anyone else is coming. I think there’s a pretty good chance there isn’t, but she’s right to be worried. They might be.”

“If you wait here a whole day, and then catch the Karrem coach, if anyone’s suspects that you’re looking for her, they’ll know you’ve got reason to think she’s gone to Karrem. You could get there just as soon by going back to Kromaan with Gobiir, and then getting the coach to Karrem from Kromaan. Throw them off the trail.”

“Yes, but lose his chance to find out if Falbaash knows anything. If anyone here’s watching, they’ve already worked out that’s the way she went, surely?”

“Hmm. We know there haven’t been any strangers arrived from Kromaan since she did, but they could have come the other way. And the other thing we don’t know is whether anyone who isn’t a stranger might be involved. To judge by the way it’s the rich folks she’s wary of, whoever’s after her is rich. And you know what the rich are like – all connected. It is someone rich she’s scared of, isn’t it, Owen?”

There’s no point trying to hide it, they know already. “Yes.”

“It’s likely the Borjiis don’t know anything. But they come and go without anyone taking any notice, so they might have heard something without anyone visiting at all. Two of their boys were on your coach just now, Owen.”

“What are the Borjiis like?”

“Oh, they’re decent people, as rich folks go. They wouldn’t touch you themselves, or even pay anyone else to. But they’ll tell their rich friends about your movements if they know they’re interested and don’t realize they’re dangerous. Rich folks can be remarkably naïve about how dangerous their friends might be.”

“I suppose that’s because they’re not dangerous to each other, only to little people. And they don’t notice when little people disappear.”

“Something like that. But let’s not dwell on it.”

“Sounds as though the Borjiis aren’t really a problem in themselves, really. They won’t be following me, just leaking information – and that’ll take time, and I’ll have disappeared again before anyone more dangerous catches hold of my tail. No-one’s going to hurt me, as long as I’m on the trail – it’s her they want to find. I want to avoid anyone tailing me. Kromaan might be a bad place to go a second time – and I can find out from the driver whether there are any strangers on the Karrem coach, do you think?”

“Whatever you do has its risks. It depends partly how determined they are – rich folks don’t have to use the coaches, although they mostly do if they’re going far. But they’ve got their own horses and carriages anyway.”

There was a sudden eruption of chattering in the hallway, and Biilam and Kammeni went through into the lounge to greet the diners. The rest of us stayed in the kitchen, and kept our voices down. The diners had no such inhibitions, and were chattering so loudly that they couldn’t possibly have caught a word from the kitchen.

“That’s rich folks for you. We could listen in to their conversations, no trouble, if it was worth it. Sometimes it’s fun, just to hear the gossip.”

“They’re pretty irritating sometimes, but the money’s worth it. Biilam couldn’t keep the inn going without them coming for meals. And at least they always book in advance if there’s more than two or three of them. They think they’re doing the family a big favour – well I suppose they are, but they need the inn here too, and Biilam’s not getting rich.”

“Griima was amazing. I really miss her, even though she was only here three days. She promised to show me how to go auking – and then she was gone, just like that.”

I grinned to myself. Teenage boy, capable young woman. Griima. Must remember to call her Griima – here, anyway. I’ve got so used to these people already, I could so easily end up using her real name. Careful!

“I’d have liked to go auking, too.”

“Yes, but you’re a girl.”

“So’s Griima.”

“Oh! Yes, that’s true. I hadn’t thought about that.”

Somehow I couldn’t see Kiimi clambering around cliffs with nothing but a rope tied at the top to hang onto with one hand while she caught birds and collected eggs with the other. She wasn’t built right for that kind of thing. I hadn’t known that Aila did it, but somehow it didn’t surprise me.

We eventually decided that as good a plan as any for me was to catch the Karrem coach. I was going to spend the day playing the casual visitor part, wandering around the village, taking a look in the shops and down at the harbour, and then in the evening they’d introduce me to the Karrem coach driver. Falbaash. Remember that, Owen. Even, write it down. Oh, and write down how good Skiimon was – and Gobiir, and this family.

Falbaash will probably remember if he’s carried any strangers recently. He might even know where Aila – Griima – had been heading for after Karrem, if she hadn’t stayed there. Then in the morning he can let me know by a private signal if there was anyone suspicious on the coach.

With Kemmina’s help, I drew a sketch map of all the towns and villages in the area, and the coach routes. I wish I’d thought to do that earlier – but when? I don’t know who else actually has all this information in their heads. And I’ve managed well enough without so far. But I think this’ll be useful.

After the diners had left, Biilam and Kammeni came and sat with us with a skiir for a while. I could see they were exhausted. “Well, it’s good to get the coins,” Biilam said. “But I’m glad they don’t come every night.”

“Was that the Borjiis?”

“Who else would it be? Six Borjiis and four friends. But don’t worry, they’re local friends, just people from the next village. But they’re staying at the Borjii place tonight. Didn’t hear anything to suggest they’re even aware of Griima’s existence or yours, Owen. They were gossiping enough about everybody else in the village. It’s as if we’re not there, the way they talk.”

That’s reassuring. It would just be paranoia to think they’d planned that on purpose. I wonder how to say paranoia in Laana?

Kemmina disappeared into the night, Gobiir and I bedded down in the lounge, and the rest of them went off somewhere else in the inn.

In the morning it was sunny, and I was ready to go and explore after breakfast. “Lunch at about one if you want it, or there’s a place down by the harbour where you can get lunch if you’re down that way and don’t feel like walking back up the hill.”

One of the boys offered to come with me and show me around, but Kammeni thought it would be better if they didn’t seem too familiar with me. She thought it would give them a better chance of overhearing anything the Borjiis might let slip in the future. I didn’t think I’d be around long to get any such reports, but she said the coach drivers would happily pass on messages, and they’d know who else could be relied upon, too. “It’s probably best if you do have lunch down at the harbour, too, for the same reason. More like what a casual visitor would do.”

I see what Peyr meant about the grapevine – although Kammeni’s talking about a coach drivers’ grapevine, and that’ll be quite different from the rich folks’ grapevine that spreads word of Yaana’s tailoring skills.

It was cold outside, despite the sunshine. Griishi seemed like a lovely little place, but then anywhere looks much nicer in sunshine, even if it’s cold. But I knew Aila wasn’t there, and I wanted to be wherever she was. As soon as possible. But today I have to be a casual visitor, just exploring and taking a look at a picturesque place. And getting the feel of the whole of this country. Now that is useful – this isn’t like anywhere I’ve been before.

There were just four shops: a fishmonger who was also a butcher, made candles, and sold cheese, eggs and cheap smelly fish oil for lamps; a greengrocer who was also a baker, and sold more expensive vegetable oil for lamps and cooking; a cobbler who also did other leatherwork and some woodwork; and a general merchant who sold everything from ironmongery to haberdashery, and would do minor clothing repairs for you. The fishmonger was not far above the harbour, right alongside Griishi’s only other inn, but the other shops were further up the hill.

There was no dock or quay big enough for coasters. If they called here at all, they must have used a small boat between the ship and the shore. There were a couple of fishing boats in the harbour, with people doing repairs to rigging and nets, but it was obvious that there were several more boats already out for the day, or on longer trips – there was room in the harbour for six or seven boats.

The cliffs began as a rocky hillside behind the harbour end of the village, then got steeper and taller out towards a point that looked like a slightly smaller version of the point at Laanoha. There were innumerable seabirds wheeling around in the sky over the harbour, and all along the cliffs. I wandered along the foot of the cliffs, looking up at them and trying to imagine Aila scrambling around up there. It was a rather scary thought. But she clearly knew what she was doing.

Walking along the foot of the cliffs, I was careful not to get below the high tide line, so as to be sure to be able to return safely.

At the point, I noticed the tide was actually quite far out. I clambered out along the rocks. On a whim, I began to collect ekraahi, and then found myself within reach of the same seaweed Aila had been collecting. I filled my bag, and then realized the sea was coming up. I had to hurry to get back to the foot of the cliffs before I was cut off, but made it safely. That’s a lesson to remember – think more about the tide, and watch it. That could have been very nasty – the death of me, even. And I’d be no good to Aila then. Am I any good to her anyway?

I’d scarcely ever been by the sea, and never before alone – just that one day with Aila. As a child, I’d spent happy hours with my grandmother by the mudflats of the Thames estuary, gazing over at the French bank, but does that count? We’d never strayed below the high water mark – too muddy.

I headed back to the village. By the time I got there, I was ready for lunch, and headed to the harbour inn. They were very friendly, and served me a good lunch.

This was clearly Griishi’s equivalent of the waterside inn in Briggi. Some of the talk was in plain Laana that I understood well enough, but some was in a language or dialect in which I could only recognize the odd word. I didn’t feel at all threatened, but I was glad I wasn’t wearing my Railway clothes. I felt my boots marked me out rather, but nobody seemed to take any notice.

Nobody seemed to. As I left, two men who’d been talking the other language got up and followed me out. Coincidence. If anyone’s following me, they want to follow me to Aila, they’re not going to let me know they’re following me.

They followed me at a distance, which I still thought could have been coincidence. But it wasn’t. I wandered randomly in the village for a little while, to see what they did, and they were still following me. Eventually I found myself in a dead-end street, with a rock face at the end, the last two houses butting right up against it. I turned round, and they confronted me.

“You were collecting sea-weed and ekraahi, weren’t you?”

Ah. Nothing to do with Aila. Just I’ve been harvesting on their patch, and they don’t like it. I can simply give it all to them, not a problem.

They didn’t even want all of it – just a half share. But they had noticed Aila.

“You’re something to do with that girl, aren’t you?”

No sense denying it, but no sense confirming it, either.

“That girl?”

“She was here three weeks ago, just for a few days. Collected ekraahi one day. She’s a pretty girl, we let her have them. Then the next day she was up on the cliffs, auking. She’s not just a pretty girl, she’s the best auker we’ve seen in years. Never seen a girl doing it before, just heard stories about one who used to do it years ago, then she disappeared. She was supposed to have been the best auker ever, too. But that was before our time. Anyways, we saw this girl going up the hill to the coaching inn. Now that’s something we don’t like so much – it’s one thing a pretty girl taking a few ekraahi or a few birds and eggs, but taking them for the toffs? No, mister. We don’t like that. But we like her pluck, and she’s no toff herself. We wanted to talk to her, not to hurt her you understand, we wouldn’t do that, just to talk. But the next day she wasn’t about. We guessed she might have been plucking and gutting – she’d taken a lot of birds. So the next morning we waited not far from the inn to see what she was going to do, and caught her as she set off towards the village. Well, we didn’t catch her – she spotted us and she ran like the wind! We wouldn’t have touched a hair on her head, mister, but she was scared. I’ve never seen anyone so scared in my life. She was on the coach out, not even back the way she came, within minutes. She’s worried about something, mister, she thinks someone’s following her. Well if that someone’s you, mister, you’d better watch out. I know a lot of very tough blokes who took a shine to that girl, and if anything happens to her, whoever happens it isn’t going to live very long, I can promise you that.”

Well! They’re not going to help Jerem’s father, that’s for sure. But what can I say? Tell the truth. It can’t do any harm, might help me just now, might even help more than that, who knows? But it’s pretty certainly the best policy here. Whether they’ll believe me is another question. But there’s no better option anyway.

“I wish I could tell her that. She’d feel a lot safer – if she was here, anyway. Yes, I’m something to do with her, I’m her betrothed. It’s not me she’s scared of, it’s a toff that she rejected that she’s scared of. Well, not him himself, his hired men. That’s why she doesn’t know what they look like.”

“Well, if that’s true, you’ve got a lot of good friends here, who’ll help you any way they can. And if that’s a lie, well, you’ve already heard the warning.”

“I believe him, Tomaam. He’s a foreigner, he doesn’t know his knee from his nose around here. He’s not someone’s hired man, that’s for sure. And like he said, if she was scared of us it’s a hired man she’s worried about.”

“That makes sense. So what’s your plan, mister? You must know the risk that someone’s following you, to help them find her?”

“Yes, I know that risk, but what can I do?”

“You come with us, now. I don’t think these stones have ears, but who knows? We’ll talk somewhere safer.”

They led me back to the harbour inn by a much shorter route, down a steep flight of stone stairs between stone walls. The innkeeper nodded at us as they led me into a back room. A few moments later he followed us in and shut the door. “Friend?” he asked.

“Yup, friend. He’s her boyfriend. It’s a toff she spurned that’s after her. Well, his hired men.”

“She didn’t just spurn him, she beat him up. He tried too hard.”

“That figures. But she thinks hired men are more dangerous, and she’s right. Well, she can’t afford bodyguards, that’s obvious, but she doesn’t need to, they come free. We like her.”

“That’s all very well if she’s here, but she’s not, is she?”

“No, she’s not. But we’ve got mates everywhere – well, all along the coast, anyway. Fishing boats, you see. And we’ve seen that she’s a coast girl, she won’t be far inland if she can help it.”

“And your mates have been watching out for her?”

“No, because we didn’t know the story. Well, they might be, we’ve told a few people about her, but we’ve not told anyone to look out for her. Just not to hassle her. But we’ll make sure they keep an eye on her now.”

“So you know where she is?”

“No, we don’t. Someone somewhere might, though.”

“If you tell people a toff’s hired men are looking for her, isn’t there a risk that someone will think they can earn a pile of coins by telling the hired men where she is?”

“A pile of coins? That’s a poor return on an early grave.”

“There’s more than a few folks have ended in early graves because they didn’t think about that, Tomaam.”

“That’s true enough. You can even remind them, and still they don’t think about it. And the idiots aren’t all dead yet. So what can we do? Everything has risks.”

“What were you planning to do before Tomaam and Sheyr got hold of you?”

“Well, the innkeeper’s family at the other inn, where I stayed last night, had already realized I was following Griima...”

The innkeeper interrupted me. “Griima? Is that her name? She’s not told Biilam her name, has she?”

“It’s what she’s calling herself.”

“Ah, that’s better. Don’t tell us her real name, we don’t want to know.”

“They know my real name, but that can’t be helped.”

“What happened, happened. You can’t change the past.”

“They knew she was frightened, but they didn’t expect her to leave so suddenly. She’d not told them much, but she’d told them my name. They didn’t want to let me know she’d been there until they were sure I was me.”

“Ah, so they realize she’s in danger. I don’t like them much, but they’re not fools, and it’s good to know they’re on her side. And it’s good to know they don’t know her real name.”

“We don’t actually know that she is in danger, but we know it’s a real possibility.”

Should I tell them that Jerem’s disabled now, and that it’s his father who’s the danger? Maybe not. It’s even possible that it’s not true – we’ve only Mashaari’s word for it. Everyone thinks she’s honest, but is she? Or has she perhaps been fed a lie that she’s passed on innocently? Surely not – she’d find out, and they wouldn’t want that. It must be true. But Aila thinks it’s Jerem who’s the danger – or of course Jerem’s father because she beat up Jerem, even without the broken knees that she doesn’t know about. Don’t say anything, it’s all so muddy anyway.

But actually, if it’s Jerem’s father trying to protect himself from her revealing that she didn’t break Jerem’s knees, then she’s in more danger than she realizes. I should say something, if only something vague.

“She might actually be in more danger than she realizes.”

“You took a while thinking about that. You know more than you’re telling us, but don’t worry, we don’t want to know the details. We’ve already decided whose side we’re on. But Biilam knows what you’re in Griishi for. What’s he expecting you to do?”

“He’s expecting me to catch the Karrem coach in the morning. They were going to introduce me to the coach driver tonight, and prime him not to tell anyone anything about Griima or me.”

“If you don’t do that, he’ll wonder why you’ve changed your mind. It’s probably best if they don’t know anything about you meeting us, so you do that. Falbaash is a good man, it’s good if he knows to keep quiet – he will.”

“Tomaam – you could go to Karrem tomorrow, couldn’t you? Then you’d know if anyone doubtful had been on the coach, or watching in Karrem when it arrived. And you could probably catch Falbaash and have a word with him, too.”

“I could, but people might notice. I almost never go anywhere by coach, you know me. It’d be better if you went, Aibram. I’ll look after the inn for you as usual. Nobody would think twice about you going.”

“True enough. And I can stay in the same inn as our man here, and still not attract attention. You’d stay down by the waterside, wouldn’t you?”

“Surely I would. It’d be the talk of Karrem if I stayed anywhere else. As soon as you get back, though, I’ll get a boat up to Karrem and talk to the chaps there. Selected chaps, mister, don’t you worry. If you’re still there, we’ll put a tail on you, then we can spot if anyone else is tailing you. We’ll catch your tail soon enough anyway, Falbaash will have the sense to know who he should and who he shouldn’t tell where you’ve gone. Then if this chap’s got any hired men after you, they’ll regret the day they took his coins. Not for long, though.”

Blimey. What have I got myself into here? At least I think the stronger gang is on my side, by the sound of it. Talk about confidence! I wish I could discuss this with Graamon, or even Peyr. But I can’t, I’ve just got to trust my own judgement. If I’ve got any choice in the matter at all any more anyway. I’m not sure I have. I’m being swept along by the tide again. Such is life.

“It’s probably best if you don’t spend too long here. You never know whether any of Biilam’s family might have seen you come in here, and they’d wonder why you were so long. I bet they suggested you come here for lunch, but they wouldn’t expect you to be here all day. I think the plans are decided, and I’ll have plenty of time to talk to you tomorrow evening. Best if we don’t even know each other on the coach, whoever’s on it.”

“I was going to take these ekraahi up to Biilam, and this seaweed. He wasn’t expecting it or anything, I just decided to collect it on a whim. But if you can use it here, I’d prefer that.”

Tomaam laughed. “No, we’ve got our half. Biilam’s welcome to the rest. Someone might tell him you were collecting. We wouldn’t want him to think we’d taken it all, and he knows we wouldn’t have bought it. He’ll probably pay you for them. Don’t complain!”

“You’d better go and act the casual visitor for the rest of the day, if that’s what Biilam’s expecting. And I’m sure he’s right if he thinks that’s the best way to make sure the toffs take no notice of you.”

I’d seen just about all of Griishi already. I climbed up onto the top of the hill at the point, and looked back towards the land. The mountains were visible in the distance. There was only one road into Griishi, which was at the end of a long peninsula between two huge bays. Other than Griishi, I could see no sign of human habitation. It was obvious that the hill I was on had been an island when sea level was higher, and the great expanse of more or less flat farmland that stretched to the north all the way to the foot of the mountains had been the sea bed.

I knew I’d normally find it all very interesting, and if I hadn’t been so preoccupied with weightier matters, there’d have been a lot to see. I wanted to go back to the inn, but I knew I’d got to act the casual visitor. But it wasn’t easy. Eventually I gave in, and trudged slowly back down.

Kiimi met me at the door. “Did you see my uncle? He went down into town, looking for you.”

“No, I was up on the hill, it’s a while since I was in town. Do you know if it was urgent? I could go down into town myself and see if I can see him.”

“No, I think it’s better if you wait here for him. I’ll send Sheymaal down to tell him you’re here. Get inside and get warm by the fire, I’ll get you some skiir.”

I sat and stared into the fire. I wonder what this is all about? I’d no idea what it could possibly be. There’s no point speculating, just have to wait and see.

Biilam didn’t take long to arrive. I asked him what he wanted me for. “Oh, it’s nothing. I was a bit worried about you, that’s all. Sheymaal saw you out on the point earlier on. He thought you might have been collecting ekraahi.”

“I was. And seaweed. It’s in my bag – half of it. I gather the local fishermen expect half of it as their share.”

Biilam laughed a relieved sounding laugh. “Good. I’m glad you had the sense not to argue.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t argue. If they’d wanted it all, I wouldn’t have argued. I’d have felt a bit aggrieved, but I’d still just accept the situation. I’m not about to get into a fight over a bagful of shellfish. I don’t even really feel aggrieved about half of it. The sea shore isn’t my property.”

“It’s not their property either.”

“Isn’t it? I didn’t know whether it was or not.”

“If it’s anyone’s, it’s the Borjiis’. Most of the land around here is.”

“I’d object to that more than I’d begrudge the fishermen the ekraahi, to be honest. Why does the land belong to the Borjiis, any more than the ekraahi belong to the fishermen?”

“That’s a good question, and I don’t really have an answer. But it does.”

“Says who? The Borjiis?”

“Ah, well, we can’t change the ways of the world. We can’t take the Borjiis’ land away from them, and we can’t take the fishermen’s ekraahi – or not more than half of them, anyway. Not without a fight, in either case, and the only thing sure about a fight is that everybody loses.”

Well, at least Biilam didn’t want me for anything important.

“Did Griima have to hand over half her harvest, too?”

I knew she hadn’t, or I thought I knew, but I didn’t want to admit that I knew. And I did want to open the subject.

“No, they never went near her. They probably thought she was a ghost, actually. There’s an old story about a girl who used to collect ekraahi and seaweed and birds and eggs around here. Best auker ever, they said. That was, oh, maybe fifty years ago. Before I was born, anyway. No-one knew who she was, she just appeared from nowhere. Didn’t talk much, never told anyone anything about herself. No-one knew where she was staying. People thought maybe she was living in a cave high up on the cliffs where no-one else dared go. One of the local men fancied her, but he was too shy to say anything. Then one day he plucked up courage and tried to talk to her, but she ran away from him. Next day, she was gone. No-one ever saw her again. The chap who fancied her never got over it. He was a bit of a painter, used to sell paintings to the Borjiis’ rich friends. The Borjiis have a few of his paintings still. But after she disappeared all he ever painted was portraits of her – some full face, some of her up on the cliffs, or out on the rocks collecting ekraahi. The Borjiis have a couple of them, big ones, and a few people in the village have smaller ones, too – he practically gave them away, because he painted more than the rich people wanted. The Borjiis have them up on the wall, but most people don’t keep them where anyone can see them, because they think it’s bad luck. Some people thought he’d killed her, but most people didn’t think he could have done that, they thought she’d disappeared the way she came, running away from someone. But the rum thing is, Griima looks exactly like the girl in those pictures.”

“No wonder they thought she was a ghost.”

If they did. It’s only Biilam’s idea that they’d think that. They way they talked, I doubt it. But they didn’t mention the pictures, or the likeness. And if they half think she might be a ghost, that could explain why they’re so keen to help. And they might have thought at first that that was why she ran away from them like that.

“I’d like to see one of those pictures. I might like to buy one of them if anyone will sell me one – but not just now. Sometime when all this is settled, I’ll be back. With her. All being well, of course.”

“I don’t know whether anyone would sell you one, especially if they see her with you. You don’t want to go around asking about them just now, obviously!”

By sunset, Falbaash still hadn’t arrived with his coach from Karrem. I asked Biilam if he was running late.

“No, it’s a long road from Karrem, three full stages, not just two like the road from Laanoha. He’ll be here before long I expect.”

I’d not even noticed the change of horses. He must have done it when we were having lunch. Never thought about it. Always used trains for long distances in England.

It was thoroughly dark by the time Falbaash arrived. He came in and plonked himself in the same chair by the fire that Gobiir had used the previous night. “Only three passengers today. And no parcels at all. At the present rate, I’ll have to cut the service back to a three day round trip, like I did last winter. Can’t feed a family like this. What’s a man to do?”

“Thank your luck that you don’t ply the Laanoha to Gorb route, or up to Veglid?”

“Thanks for that kind thought, Biilam. At least they can charge a good price there, they know no-one’s going to try to compete. My old coach wouldn’t handle those roads, though. Put four horses on the front of it and try to pull it up a hill? It’d fall to bits.”

“That’s reassuring words for your passenger, Falbaash.”

“Oh? Have I got a passenger for tomorrow already?”

“This young man here, Owen. Actually, he wants to talk to you tonight, while there’s only us around.”

I can talk myself, Biilam, but actually, I’m very happy if you do the talking for me if you want to. You know this man, I don’t.

Falbaash turned and looked at me. “You’re a quiet one. I know, it’s hard to get a word in with Biilam around.”

Biilam didn’t say anything. Ah well, it’s up to me then.

“I’m trying to find my young lady. I don’t know if you remember her. A young woman, not one of the regulars, about three weeks ago. Small, slender, wearing a black cloak with a hood.”

I’d only found out what she’d been wearing from Gobiir and Kiimi. I’d never seen her in a black cloak.

“You’ve already said plenty, there’s not often strangers on my coach. Yes, I remember her. Jumped on me at the last minute, as if she’d only just decided to travel. Didn’t even know where I was going, had to ask. Paid for the whole way to Karrem, but then at Griimi she asked what it was called, and said not to wait for her, she’d stay there. I gave her half her money back, and she was grateful. Most folks would have wanted two thirds back. I told her she’d only gone a third of the way, too, but she was happy. Pretty girl.”

“Has anyone else been asking after her?”

“Not that I’ve heard. Why? Is she in trouble?”

“Quite likely, but I’m not certain. If anyone else does ask, can you tell them you’ve never seen her?”

“Well, yes, but how do I know whether it’s you or the other fellow she’s trying to get away from?”

Biilam answered that one. “She stayed here four nights, Falbaash. She talked about Owen, and we’re sure it’s him all right.”

“She’s stayed in Griimi? Not been on the coach again?”

“Maybe, I don’t know. No, she’s not been on my coach, neither back here nor to Karrem, but I’m not the only coach that stops at Griimi. There’s two coaches that run between Laanoha and Karrem, too. You’ll have to ask Preysh and Kaasham if she caught either of them.”

Of course. I’d forgotten about the map Kemmina helped me make. I’ll have another look at that later. Kaasham? I’ve heard that name before.

Ah. Workshop man in Briggi of course. Seems so long ago already.

Falbaash and I were alone together later in the evening, and I quietly told him about my meeting with Tomaam and the others at the other inn. He nodded, and said he knew who he could trust and who he couldn’t, and that there really wasn’t any need to say any more. “Better not to. Not here.”

I spent some time studying the map. I wondered how much of it I’d actually need.

My dreams were full of Aila. One moment she was high on the cliffs, with an impossibly large bag full of eggs, standing on a narrow ledge and leaning out, nonchalantly hanging on to her rope with one hand; the next she was out on the rocks, skirt tucked into her knickers, collecting ekraahi; then she was running along in the water, trying to reach the shore before the tide overwhelmed her. Then she was running alongside Peyr’s engine, but we were going too fast, and she slipped as she jumped to get in. I tried to grab her, but she slipped out of my grasp. I woke up sweating. Falbaash was snoring, so at least I hadn’t been shouting – or if I had, I hadn’t woken him. I couldn’t shake off the feeling that the tide was overwhelming her, although I knew in my head that I’d been dreaming, and that anyway she knew what she was doing when it came to tides.

Back to the top

On to Chapter 13