Chapter 13

Breakfast. Fresh bread, smoked fish and fried eggs, washed down with skiir. Falbaash and I ate with the family. There were no other guests. I tried to pay Biilam, but he said I’d already paid in ekraahi and seaweed, and that the Borjiis were bringing friends again that night and the ekraahi would go down well.

Falbaash went to tend to his horses, then came back in to fetch me. The innkeeper from the harbour inn was already in the coach, together with the same two teenage boys who’d been in the coach from Kromaan.

They must be the Borjii boys, the ones Kemmina was talking about. They’re not tailing me, surely? No, it must be coincidence, they were on the coach already this morning, and they were on the coach already in Kromaan – I think they must have come from Laanoha, in fact. But still a nuisance – they’ll very likely tell their parents that I was on the coach, and where I got off.

Oh, and damn. The harbour inn innkeeper doesn’t know I’m getting off at Griimi. He’ll have booked through to Karrem, I’m sure.

But he hadn’t booked anything. Falbaash hadn’t collected the fares yet, and he collected mine first. The boys were going to Karrem.

Well, that’s something of a relief, anyway. But not much.

As soon as we’d got moving, one of the boys looked me straight in the eye. “You’re Owen, aren’t you?”

No use denying it.

But before I could say anything, the other boy shushed him, and spoke to the innkeeper. “You can keep a secret, can’t you, Aibram? From Dad, that is, or anyone who might tell him?”

Aibram laughed. “Like you two, for instance? Of course I can.”

“Okay. You are Owen, aren’t you?”

“Yes, although how you knew I’d love to know.”

“Oh, we’ve got ears and eyes, Naajal and I. You can read, can you? Laana, that is.”

So he knows I’m foreign, as well.

“Sort of. I’m not very good yet. I’m a bit slow, and there are lots of words I don’t know.”

“Okay, I’m sure that’s good enough. And this is what you mustn’t let Dad know, Aibram. We’ve got a letter from Mum for you, Owen. That’s why we’re here. She was sure you’d be on the coach this morning. Oh, and she says we’re to give you any help we can, as long as it’s something Dad won’t get to hear about.”

I took the letter. It was sealed along two edges with wax, just the way Aila’s had been. “Thank you. You heard that I was only going to Griimi, but you’ve booked through to Karrem?”

“Well, we’ve nowhere to stay in Griimi, and we’d only have to wait there until Falbaash comes back anyway. And this way Falbaash won’t guess our trip has anything to do with you. Can’t help it that you heard, Aibram.”

“What happens, happens. I’m sure it’s of no consequence that I heard, anyway.”

I don’t suppose it would matter if Falbaash knew, either. But they don’t know that, and I’m not about to tell them. And they’ve got the right instinct.

“You can open the letter, Mister Owen. Aibram can’t read, and we’re not looking. We’ve got a pretty good idea what it says anyway.”

Their mother’s signature, at the bottom, was written in neat cursive script, but the bulk of the letter was written in print script, like Aila’s. I guessed this was for my benefit, not because writing cursive script was harder for her. This is what she wrote:

my dear owen,

don’t worry that i know who you are and why you’re here, and that my boys do too. i’m writing to warn you to be careful, especially for aila’s sake.

she’s running away because she thinks jerem is angry with her. as far as she knows, he could have recovered completely.

everybody on the circuit knows the story, but i don’t believe it. if i’m right, aila doesn’t know how much danger she is in. i don’t believe she broke jerem’s knees. i don’t doubt that she broke his head, she’s a capable young woman and that was surely the right thing to do. but why break his knees when his head’s already broken? that doesn’t make sense, and i know she’s a sensible girl. gamaara has talked about her many times.

i’m sure it must have been tiiram (that’s jerem’s father) who did that. it is in character. now of course he wants everyone to believe it was aila. he knows aila knows she didn’t break jerem’s knees, and i expect he’s very afraid that when she hears that people are saying that, she’ll deny it, and they’ll find out it was him. so there is a very real risk that he’ll have hired someone to arrange a nasty accident for her. except maybe in the heat of the moment, jerem wouldn’t have wanted her killed, i’m sure, and i think she’d know that. but tiiram probably does want her dead, and she doesn’t know that.

i’m sure that gamaara and others also suspect that it was tiiram, not aila, who broke his knees. but they daren’t believe it, can’t prove it, and aren’t saying anything to anyone – well, not that i’ve heard, anyway.

my boys will do anything they can to help – within reason, don’t forget they’re only boys. and if you can possibly get her back here to our house, we can keep her safe until the truth is public and she’s out of danger. my husband doesn’t know what i think, but if she’s here to tell him about the knees, he’ll believe it. he doesn’t know she was in griishi.

i’m only sorry we didn’t know the story until after she’d already left griishi. we’ve not told anyone she was here, and we won’t. i can’t speak for the coach drivers, of course.

good winds and favourable tides,

Borjii Maamatta

Well! Well, well, well. I suppose that’s not surprising, and it doesn’t tell me anything I didn’t already suspect – except that there are rich people who are already suspicious of the official story, and prepared to take sides with us. Well, one at least. I guess “the circuit” must mean the circle of rich friends and acquaintances. I wonder how wide it spreads?

It can’t be a devious method to trap me and Aila. Neither Jerem for his reasons, nor his father for his, would actually enlist the help of anyone but a hired hand. Aila’s not scared that these people would do that, just that they’ll gossip and disclose her whereabouts thoughtlessly.

But by what method does she expect me to be careful? She doesn’t know I’ve got the fishermen on my tail – and until Aibram gets back to Griishi, tomorrow night, they don’t know I’ve not gone to Karrem. But Tomaam at least won’t set off for Karrem until Aibram gets back. I got the impression it would be Tomaam not his friend – Sheyr, was it? – who was going to go. But who knows how many other fishermen there are, and who they’ve talked to? Tomaam talked about ‘a lot of tough blokes who took a shine to that girl’, and I don’t think that was any bluff. There were a lot of boats out fishing, to judge by the empty spaces on the quayside.

Well, I’m pretty sure I don’t want these two lads to know that Aibram already knows. And Aibram doesn’t know Aila’s real name. It’s hard to know what I can say, and to whom. But I think everybody here understands that. I’ll get a chance to talk privately with Aibram in Griimi, all being well.

“Thank you. Watch out for me at Griimi on your way back tomorrow. I might have a letter for your mother, I’m not sure yet.”

“We can always get off in Griimi now if you think you need our help, or if you decide you want our help after you’ve seen Griimi, we can get off there tomorrow. Mum said we could stay away longer if we were needed.”

“That’s very kind of her – and of you, and I’ll remember the offer. Thank you. There’s just one other thing – if anyone else asks about me or that girl, you’ve never seen either of us, okay? Do your best not to let them see that you’re hiding anything from them, too.”

“We can do that, we’re very good at it. Mum already told us not to say anything to anyone. Even Dad doesn’t know the half of what we do!”

We travelled in silence for a long time. Maybe I’d become more accustomed to the movement of the coach, or maybe the road or the coach was in better condition, or maybe it was just that the coach wasn’t full, but I felt more comfortable, and found I was able to stare out at the countryside. It was very flat, and where there were gaps in the woodland I could see the mountains in the distance.

After a while, a nearer rocky hill began to be distinguishable against the backdrop of the more distant mountains. It gradually came to dominate the skyline on our right.

Aibram saw me looking at it. “That’s Griimi point. Griimi village is just at the foot of it, at this end. The other end sticks out into the sea, just like the point at Griishi.”

I remembered from the map that we joined the direct road from Kromaan a few miles before Griimi, but I was on the right side of the coach and never noticed the junction. We pulled up outside an inn at the foot of Griimi point, and we all climbed out. Falbaash unharnessed his horses and led them somewhere behind the inn. It was only about ten o’clock in the morning, but in the sunshine it was reasonably warm, and we sat on benches outside the inn and drank mugs of skiir with the innkeeper, but apart from friendly greetings all round, not a word was spoken.

After a while, the innkeeper disappeared round the back of the inn, and came out with fresh horses. Falbaash harnessed them to his coach, the boys wished me luck and said they’d see me the next day, and they were off.

The innkeeper broke the silence. “Well this is a rare pleasure, Aibram. It’s not often you stay here – in fact, I don’t think I remember you staying here since your sister’s wedding, and when was that?”

Aibram laughed. “That’s a few years ago. Her girls must be nearly ready for theirs, I reckon. There’s a few likely lads sniffing around, I dare say.”

“I’m sure you’re right, although I’ve not seen them. But you don’t, do you? What brings you here, anyway? And who’s the stranger?”

“He’s Owen, and he’s what brings me here. And Owen, this is the other Tomaam. You can trust him like a brother, he’s one of us.”

“That doesn’t sound too healthy, Aibram. Trouble?”

“Probably. We don’t know for sure. You must have seen a girl arrive here from Griishi about three weeks ago – a stranger. Small...”

Tomaam reacted before Aibram had even finished. “Slender girl. Pretty. Yes, she was here for a week, stayed here with us. Griima, she was calling herself, but I don’t think it was her real name. Best auker there’s been here in fifty years, and that’s something else. You know her, presumably, Owen?”

“Yes, surely. I’m her betrothed.”

“Come with me. You too, Aibram.”

The innkeeper led us into the inn, then up a flight of stairs that angled around what must have been the back of the chimney. It ended in a huge dingy room full of all kinds of things, mostly thickly covered in dust, but some apparently used more recently.

An old woman was sitting sewing at a table under a window in one gable end. She looked up briefly as we entered, then returned to her sewing. Tomaam led us to another table under the window at the other end.

Lying face up on the table was a framed picture. I could see where most of the dust had recently been wiped off the glass.

I see what Biilam meant. That’s not just a bit like Aila, that’s a very good painting of Aila.

She was standing on a ledge on a cliff, high above the sea, hanging onto a rope with her right hand. She had a large bag over her shoulder, and she was just putting a large speckled egg into the bag with her left hand. She was looking round straight into the face of the painter.

She was wearing a black cloak, with a hood hanging down her back.

“I can see you’re quite shocked. She was, too.”

“That’s astonishing. Where did you get it?”

“When she found it, she thought for a moment that I must have painted it. Then she realized it was old, covered in dust. I don’t know where it came from, my mother...” he nodded in the direction of the old lady “...thinks my father must have bought it somewhere, but she’d never seen it until after he died. And she’d never thought anything of it until Griima found it.”

Aibram was less moved. “I didn’t know you’d got one of those, Tomaam. It’s one of the best I’ve seen, too. I wondered about mentioning them to you, Owen, but I thought better not.”

Tomaam was looking at him, surprised. “There are more like this?”

Aibram was looking at Tomaam, and then me, and then back again. “You look less surprised than Tomaam, Owen. I guess Biilam must have told you about them. I don’t think he’s got one, though, has he?”

“Not as far as I know, no. Tomaam – you wouldn’t be prepared to part with that, would you? Not now, I don’t want to carry it now, and I haven’t got enough coins on me to give you a fair price. Besides, I want to find the real Griima before I buy a painting of her – or whoever it was who looked so incredibly like her fifty years ago. But if you’d keep that for me, when I’ve found her, I’d like to come back for it.”

I hadn’t realized that the old lady had left her sewing, and was standing behind us, looking between us at the picture. Then she spoke.

“Young man, you know Griima, don’t you? Very well, I think.”

“Yes. We’re betrothed.”

“You know that cloak she wears? Do you know where she got it? I was thinking to ask her, then she disappeared before I got round to it.”

“I’ve never seen it. She never wore it when we were together. But her grandmother sometimes wears one just like the one in the picture.”

“Not any more. She’s given it to Griima, I reckon. I reckon she’d had that cloak fifty odd years, too. Do you know where Griima’s grandmother came from?”

I racked my brains. I was sure I’d heard something, but I couldn’t remember what. Then a memory replayed itself in my mind.

‘You don’t mind me asking, I hope. How long have you lived here?’ ‘In Laanoha? Apart from Gran, all our lives, all of us. Gran, you tell Owen how you came here!’

“No, I don’t. But I do know there’s a story attached, that I haven’t heard yet.”

“Griima’s grandmother is called Griimab Yaana, isn’t she? Well, something else Yaana for a long time now, I’m sure, but she was born Griimab Yaana, I’ll bet. She’s my cousin. She ran away over fifty years ago, after my uncle – her Dad – died, and another man moved in with her mother. I always suspected he tried it on with Yaana, that’s why she ran off.”

That set Aibram off. “If I’ve understood this correctly, she spent the next few years in Griishi. A Griishi man, Loumim, painted this, and dozens of other pictures of her, after she ran away again when he tried to woo her. But I’m surprised no-one knew who she was, if she’d only come from Griimi.”

“Oh, she hadn’t. I only came here when I married Tomaam. Yaana and I were both born in Oushi. It was our great grandad who came from Griimi.”

Oushi? I don’t remember that from my map. I wonder where it is? But where is Aila now, if she’s not here? Run away again, scared off? I hope whatever scared her isn’t really a hired man of Tiiram’s.

Or worse. I hope no-one’s happened anything to her.

“But where’s Griima now, if she’s not here? Do you know which coach she went on?”

I know she didn’t go back to Griishi or on to Karrem with Falbaash; but she could have gone on to Karrem with either of the other two coaches. Surely she wouldn’t go to Baragi?

“I don’t think she caught a coach at all. I think I’d have seen her catching a coach, but you should ask the coach drivers. I expect you’ve asked Falbaash already, and Preysh and Kaasham will be here at lunchtime. My wife saw her talking to a couple of fishermen the evening before she went missing, though, friendly like. I think she might have got them to take her somewhere, they were away a few days.”

“Did she seem scared, to you?”

“Not exactly scared, but a bit watchful. I did notice that she always seemed to be up on this end of the hill watching the coaches when they arrived. Most of the rest of the time she was auking or collecting ekraahi and seaweed. Our smokery is better stocked than it’s ever been in my time, and I wish I could do fresh ekraahi at lunch all the time, nearly everybody takes them, even at an extra half coin. She was worth every coin I paid her. I wish she’d stayed. I do wish she’d stayed, anyway, she was good to have around. Never at the inn at lunchtime, though, always up on the hill.”

Aibram asked the obvious question before I got round to it. “Was there anyone other than the regulars on any of the coaches, the day before she went missing?”

“No, not that I noticed. There aren’t often strangers on any of the coaches, in fact Griima and Owen are the first ones in a long time.”

“Anybody rich?”

“I think it was the day before she went missing that the two Borjii boys – the same two who were on the coach with you just now – went through to Karrem. But it was raining, and they didn’t get out of the coach, so she’d’ve had to have eyes like a hawk to have seen them from up on the hill.”

The old lady coughed. “She did have eyes like a hawk. Sort of. She borrowed your father’s telescope, every day after she’d found it up here. She said it was lovely, and I said she could borrow it. But she’s a good girl, look, it’s back in its place.” She pointed out an old brass telescope, nicely polished up, lying amongst dusty items on a dusty table under the slope of the roof.

Aibram looked at me questioningly. He’s wondering what was in that letter. Well, Aibram knows about it, and he says Tomaam is one of us. I’ve got to assume that’s true, I can’t do anything without making assumptions like that.

“Those two boys know who Griima is, but they’re on our side. They came on the coach simply to give me a letter from their mother, and to offer any help they could give. They’ll be on the coach back again tomorrow. Their mother knows the whole story, but I don’t know how much the boys know.”

“Well, if Maamatta says she’s on your side, you can be sure that she really is. But I’d trust those two boys about as much as I’d trust a cobra. Maamatta thinks they’re as straight as sunbeams, of course, but they’re not. That’s really bad news. If they can earn a few coins telling tales to someone, they won’t worry about any possible consequences. What’s worse, they don’t need to – who’d dare to hurt them?”

“At least none of the coach drivers will trust them, either. We’ll see what Preysh and Kaasham have to say in a little while. But my guess is that she’s gone further east with the fishermen. People call it dangerous country beyond Oushi, but it’s really probably the safest place for her. It’d be dangerous country for rich people, or anyone suspected of being their hirelings.”

“I talked to Preysh in Kromaan a couple of days ago. He said he’d not picked up any strangers there. I suppose he might not have thought to mention picking up a stranger here.”

“I don’t know. That would be even more unusual than picking up a stranger in Kromaan. But of course if you asked about a stranger from Kromaan...”

“I asked about a stranger just a few days ago, as well, not weeks ago, so he might not have made the connection.”

Aibram gave me a puzzled look, but he didn’t say anything.

At Tomaam’s suggestion, I stayed upstairs in the inn while he talked to the coach drivers. “That way, no-one need know you’re actually here at the moment. It probably doesn’t matter, but there could even be a stranger on one of the coaches today, and you never know who gossips to whom anyway. I’ll talk to the drivers away from the passengers, while they’re changing the horses.”

Aibram stayed upstairs with me. “No sense giving anything away to anyone unnecessarily.”

We waited until the passengers and drivers had been fed and had gone, before we went downstairs.

Neither Preysh nor Kaasham had taken any strangers anywhere recently, or talked to any apart from Preysh having talked to me. Both were happy to keep quiet about Tomaam asking, and happy to report to him if they did, especially anyone who was asking about other strangers.

Kaasham had seen strangers in Karrem a couple of times, but they’d not spoken to him. “He said they didn’t look rich enough to have their own transport, and hadn’t ridden with him or Preysh, so they must have come from Baragi, or just possibly from Mezham.”

“Doesn’t seem likely they’re anything to do with Griima, if they didn’t speak to Kaasham. Unless they’d already got what they wanted out of someone else, of course. You could go to Karrem and ask the other coach drivers about strangers, but if Griima didn’t go that way, that’s just attracting attention to yourself for no purpose. We should find those fishermen. Who were they, Tomaam?”

“My wife wasn’t sure, they’d got their backs to her, it was only Griima she could see clearly. But all the boats in the harbour were Griimi boats, so they were local boys. And not greyhairs, either!” Tomaam laughed, and tugged at his own grey locks.

“Well, that cuts out half the fishermen, anyway!” Aibram laughed too. “So the sooner we get down to the harbour, the better. Who knows who might go out on this tide?”

“I can tell you don’t come here often, Aibram. You’re thinking Griishi tides – it’s a couple of hours before our lads go out.”

“Gah, so it is. I wasn’t thinking Griishi tides, but I was thinking Griimi’s were nearly an hour earlier, and they’re not, they’re nearly an hour later. So we’ve plenty of time.”

“No harm getting down there and having a chat, anyway. You take him down there, Aibram. I’ve got lots to do here. You know the fishermen at least as well as I do, and they know you, too. I’ll expect you back here if I see you, Owen, and good luck if I don’t.”

Aibram and I headed down towards the harbour. “Tomaam was saying it’s dangerous country for rich people, where he thinks Griima’s gone with the fishermen. People there won’t think I’m rich, will they?”

“That’s a point, actually. You don’t exactly look rich, but you don’t exactly look poor, either. Your clothes are a modest style, but they’re new – all of them. Oh – and those boots. They do look like money. Hmm.”

He stopped, looking thoughtful, then turned round. “Let’s go back to the inn, and think about this. I know you want to get to Griima as soon as possible, but you don’t want to look like money over there.”

Tomaam was surprised to see us back so quickly, but Aibram explained what we’d been thinking about. “We could go back with Falbaash tomorrow, and take him to the cobblers and get some cheaper boots, then get a boat from Griishi. That’ll help throw anyone off the trail, too.”

“The boots would still be new. And all his clothes new, too? But he can’t wear any of my things or your things, they’d be far too big on him. Are any of the fishermen his size? It’d save a couple of days, as well as doing a better job of making him look ordinary. And who’s going to follow him if he goes by boat? The fishermen won’t take anyone else once they know. They won’t even tell anyone they took Owen.”

“Well, some of the fishermen probably are his size, if they’re not out fishing. But I don’t suppose any of them have anything to spare – particularly boots”

I wasn’t sure I really wanted to wear someone else’s clothes. Judd’s working clothes, good quality and freshly washed, is one thing. But a fisherman’s clothes, carelessly washed if at all? Swallow your pride and your prejudices, Owen. Think of Aila!

“If I’m their size, they’re my size. They can have mine. I’d like the boots back eventually, though!” I could always buy a new pair, I suppose. I’m not sure how many weeks’ worth of coins they’d cost, but what happens, happens.

“They’ll be pleased at that. It won’t matter to them looking like money for a few weeks, and it’s a good price for the trip, too. I suspect you’ve got a deal there, but we’d better get back down to the harbour and see who’s about.”

“Before we go, there’s one big favour I’d like to ask you, Tomaam. Do you think I could borrow your father’s telescope? I’ll do my best to look after it, but you know I’m on a bit of risky mission.”

“I’ll ask my mother, but I’m sure it’s okay. You’re right – it could be very useful to you.”

Tomaam was back with the telescope very quickly. “She says you must look after it as best you can, and it’s a gift for your young lady when you find her. And here’s a scruffy old rucksack, too.”

Scruffy it certainly was, but it was still strong. I transferred all my things into it, and gave Tomaam mine.

“I’ll keep it for you, you can collect in when you come for that painting!”

There were four boats in the harbour. There was an old man sitting on a stone bench overlooking the harbour, mending nets. Aibram and I sat down next to him.

“Well, Aibram. It’s been a long time. I reckon I was a young man last time I saw you. What brings you here? One of your nieces getting married or something?”

“Not as far as I know. We don’t have time for fussy fishing, we’ve got to get straight to business. This young man, Owen, needs our help. You remember the young lady who stayed up at the inn for a week a couple of weeks ago – spent all her time auking and collecting ekraahi? Do you have any idea where she went?”

“If you’re asking that with him sitting right there, you’ve already decided he’s a friend. Your judgement’s good enough for me. Yes, I know. Mashaar and Piiram took her to Oushi. They told her they were going that way anyway, but they weren’t of course, they were going out to sea. It probably cost them half a day’s fishing or a bit more. But what young man can turn down a desperate plea from a pretty girl like that? Especially when they’ve seen what a great auker she is.”

“Ah. Oushi’s not so bad. We were afraid she’d gone further than that – well, half afraid, half hoping. Harder for Owen to follow if she did, but probably safer for her.”

“What’s she so scared of? She’s no coward, I’ve seen her on the cliffs, so it’s something real. She’s not afraid to take a trip with a couple of young fishermen, either, and it’s not every young woman who’d take that chance.”

“It’s a toff she beat up. Well, his hired men.”

The old man laughed. “I can imagine why, and good for her. Well, it’s just as well she didn’t beat up either of those two. That’d be a hard boat to handle single-handed.”

“But they wouldn’t have been single handed. I’ll bet she’s as good with a boat as she is on the cliffs, isn’t she, Owen?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen her in a boat.” I’ve never seen her on the cliffs, either – apart from that picture. And that’s not Aila, even if it probably is her grandmother.

“I wonder if she’s still in Oushi, or whether she’s headed further into the wilds. She’d soon discover that Oushi’s not that hard to reach overland. Troum or even Zhaam would be safer – especially if she made sure the fishermen knew to refuse to take anyone remotely suspicious by boat. I’ve not heard any such talk, but they wouldn’t need to tell me.”

“Oushi isn’t on my map – nor those other places you mentioned. Can you tell me where they are? And what makes the other two harder to get to overland?”

“You’ve got a map? Wherever did you get that?”

“Oh, it’s just a sketch. Biilam’s sister-in-law helped me make it, so I’d know where the coaches went.”

I got my notebook out of my pocket and showed them. The old man looked at the map, then he shut the book and looked at the cover. Finally, he reopened the book, and turned a few pages. He found the page of my notes about how to find Baam’s place in Barioha.

“I can’t read, but I recognize enough to know that some of this is Laana, and some is something else. What do yo make of it, Aibram?”

Aibram took the book. He evidently could read, whatever the Borjii boys thought. “Well, this page looks like a list of street names, but they’re not Laanoha streets, so I don’t know where they are. Maybe Barioha or Meyroha – or maybe Briggi, I guess that’s probably where you come from, Owen, to judge by your boots. So this other writing – maybe it’s Maara?”

How much to give away? Enough not to seem to be hiding anything, I suppose. Which means almost everything of any significance. Ah well, I’m obviously among friends really.

“You’re exactly right about the boots – they’re from Briggi, which is where my home is now. But the language isn’t Maara. I’ve heard Maara spoken, but I don’t understand it and I’ve never seen it written. That’s English. I’m from England originally.”

“But your young lady is a coast girl, that’s very obvious.”

“Yes, she’s from Laanoha. And more of a coast girl than most Laanohans.”

The old man laughed again. “Your young lady is the Ghost of Griishi reincarnate. If I wasn’t a straight-thinking seaman, I’d have thought she was the Ghost herself until I saw her talking to the boys. You know about the Ghost?”

“I’d not heard her called that before, but I understand, yes. I’ve seen one of the pictures.”

They helped me put Oushi and Troum and Zhaam on my map. They explained that although Oushi didn’t have a regular coach service, it did have a road that wasn’t too bad. You could hire a gig to take you there from Karrem, but Troum and Zhaam were only accessible by sea, or several days’ hard going over jagged rocks and cliffs along the coast, or through trackless forests and swamps inland.

Aibram explained to the old man that I was trying to find Griima, and they agreed that if Griima had in fact gone further than Oushi, I would need to look more ordinary. We found that the old man’s feet were the same size as mine, and we swapped boots. “I won’t want to keep these, they’re fitted to your feet and legs, but they’re wearable. How are mine on you?”

I grinned. “Wearable!”

He put down his nets, and we all got up and walked over to the harbour wall. There were men working on two of the boats. Aibram called out, “Mashaar! Come over here a minute.”

Aibram knows everybody, even though he’s not here often. It’s what, thirty miles from here to Griishi? Do the boats come into each other’s ports quite often? I wonder why.

“Aibram! What are you doing here?”

“Coming with Owen here, to introduce him to you. First things first. You remember Griima? Of course you do – Zhor says you took her to Oushi. I expect she told you not to tell anyone. Well, Owen isn’t just anyone – he’s her boyfriend. Did you actually take her to Oushi, or further than that?”

“Owen, did you say? You’re certain he is Owen?”

“Yes, I’m certain. Griishab Tomaam checked him out yesterday, and he’s genuine, don’t worry.”

“Pleased to meet you Owen. Griima talked about you. Yes, we took her to Oushi, but Oushab Jalaan took her further along. Could have been Troum, or maybe even Zhaam.”

“Well, Owen would like to be taken to Oushi, and introduced to Jalaan, or anyone from Oushi who would take him to where Griima is.”

“It’d be cheaper to go by coach and gig, at least as far as Oushi. Ah – but I can see why you wouldn’t want to.”

“The other thing is, Owen needs some more ordinary clothes if he’s going to Troum or Zhaam. He’s willing to swap the ones he’s wearing with someone. Is there anyone about his size? You’re obviously much too tall.”

“That’s true, more’s the pity. Piiram’s nearly as tall as me, too – and you’re too short, Zhor. Imbaal’s about your size, I reckon, but he’s out at the moment. I think he’s expected in on this tide. As long as he comes in early, there’d be time for you to get changed before we have to go out. I don’t think anyone who’s here at the moment is your size. I’ll go out on the other side and see if I can see him yet.”

An hour later, Imbaal and I were swapping clothes. He was very pleased with his new clothes, and very happy to give Mashaar and Piiram his share of his catch to take me to Oushi. Fortunately we really were pretty much the same size and shape.

Aibram and Zhor helped Mashaar pull the boat to the harbour entrance, while I helped Piiram get the sails up. It wasn’t a rig I was used to, but under Piiram’s guidance I think I was able to be useful. At the harbour entrance, Mashaar leapt aboard with the tow rope. Piiram pulled on the mainsheet, and the mainsail filled. We were off. With the wind from the south, we had to beat upwind to clear the point, but then it was a beam reach to Oushi. The wind was moderate, and Mashaar reckoned it would take us five or six hours to get there, so it would be dark and half tide when we arrived. That would mean anchoring offshore, and rowing the dinghy into the harbour. “At least with it being dark, no-one will see you well enough to know you aren’t just one of us. But I’ll go into the inn first, and make sure there’s no-one suspicious around before you come in.”

As the sun went down, the wind began to diminish. Mashaar was disappointed, but not surprised. “I hope the wind doesn’t drop too much. We could be later in Oushi than I’d hoped.”

Lights started to appear on the shore. Mashaar lit our own light and pulled it up to the masthead. I’d not really been aware of any other boats out on the water before, but now I could see their lights, too. They were all far to the south of us, further out to sea, presumably fishing. The masthead lights were the only lights they had.

The wind was dropping minute by minute, and we were scarcely moving.

Mashaar was philosophical about it. “Oh well, what happens, happens. The wind will pick up again in the morning. There could even be an offshore breeze in an hour or so’s time. We might as well get some sleep while we can.”

He wound the mainsheet a couple of times round his wrist, so it would tug at his arm if the wind picked up. Then he simply curled up on the floor of the cockpit. As far as I could tell, he was asleep within moments. Piiram set a line for fish and followed suit, below deck.

I couldn’t sleep. I slouched in the cockpit with the tiller under my armpit, lost in thought.

I noticed that Piiram had tied the fishing line twice – firmly to a cleat under the gunwale, and with some kind of slipknot to the mainsheet, half a metre from Mashaar’s wrist. Cunning, I thought. Wake Mashaar up if there’s a big fish, but let the knot slip before he realizes he’s been tricked. I couldn’t help smiling to myself.

I won’t say anything. I haven’t noticed. They’ve obviously got a good relationship, anyway. Are they brothers? Or just friends? I simply don’t know. They don’t look particularly alike, but that doesn’t tell you anything.

The view of the heavens was fantastic.

If I knew the stars better, I could work out our latitude. Pah. It’d have been easier by the elevation of the sun at midday on midwinter’s day – if I’d known when that was. Not that the few days my calendar might be out by would make a lot of difference. I’d have to think pretty hard to work out how long it is since I landed at Sirimi though, never mind how long I was in the air. And it wouldn’t in the slightest help me to find Aila if I knew, anyway.

I woke in the middle of the night. The stars had disappeared, so had the lights on the shore, and the lights of the other boats away to the south. Fog – but not thick enough to see the fog itself by our own masthead light. The air was only very slightly damp, but I could see my breath.

By the light of our masthead light, I could just make out Mashaar on the cockpit floor. He’d moved right across from one side to the other, but the mainsheet was still round his wrist. I couldn’t see well enough to tell whether the fishing line was still tied to it.

I woke again to the sound and smell of frying fish. It was just beginning to get light, and it was foggy. Thick fog, and not a breath of wind.

Mashaar and Piiram were sitting one each side of the cockpit, warming their hands at a little charcoal brazier in the middle of the cockpit. There were potatoes in the pan, several large pieces of fish, and some egg roe.

“Caught that last night?”

“Ah, you’re awake. Yup, and there’s two more bigger ones and the rest of this one down below in the ice. Lucky I woke up not long after the first one bit, or she’d probably have been the only one.”

I know how that happened, but I’m saying nothing.

I noticed there was still a line over the side. Well, while we’re going nowhere, what’s the point missing out on the fishing?

“If the weather keeps on like this, you’d have been quicker getting the coach to Karrem, and hiring a gig from there this morning.”

“I know why he didn’t want to do that, Piiram. This way, no-one who might tell tales knows where he’s headed. Anyway, who was to know we were going to get becalmed?”

“Another reason is that I need someone like you to vouch for me with whoever’s going to take me on to Troum or Zhaam.”

“You could always have proved who you are like you did in Griishi.”

“I don’t know whether I could. I think I was lucky with Tomaam and Aibram. If they hadn’t spotted me and questioned me, I’d have arrived by coach in Griimi all on my own, and had no-one to vouch for me. Would you have trusted me, or just told me you didn’t know anything about Griima?”

“That’s a good point. It was them who approached you, not you approaching them? I wonder why they did that.”

“Oh, that’s easy. I was collecting ekraahi. I think they probably didn’t expect a hired man to be doing that.”

“Ah, I see. No, they wouldn’t expect that. They wouldn’t expect them to know how, nor to think of it as a way to pretend they were you. Are you an auker, too? You didn’t look the part in the clothes you were wearing when I first saw you, but you’d not had them long, and you’ve got the build.”

“No, I’d be scared silly on the cliffs. I only learnt how to collect ekraahi a few weeks ago. Griima showed me.” I would be scared silly on the cliffs, too. Yet ballooning wasn’t too bad once I got used to it. Landing was the only bad bit, really. I wonder if I could learn auking?

“You could have collected ekraahi in Griimi, and waited for one of us to pounce on you.”

“That’s a bit hit and miss, though. I hadn’t planned it. I didn’t even know I ought to be handing over a share. Biilam told me Griima had brought him ekraahi – and auks and eggs – and never mentioned anyone taking a share.”

“She’s an amazing auker. No-one would ask her, especially since she looks just like the Ghost. She gave us a whole bagful, too. Mum and Dad have them in the smoker at home now. And we’ve got some eggs she gave us on board, too. If we hadn’t caught these last night, it would be eggs for breakfast now, but eggs keep better than fresh fish. Here, this roe is ready.”

We ate in silence. The fish and potatoes were ready by the time we’d finished the roe, and Piiram put a pan of water on the brazier in place of the frying pan.

There wasn’t much we could do. We lounged about in the cockpit as the fog got gradually brighter around us, hoping for a bite on the line or a breath of wind. The water boiled, and Piiram made an infusion with some dried leaves.

I wonder if that’s the same stuff they made at Belgaam?

It wasn’t the same, but it wasn’t bad. I suspected it was a mild stimulant, and it was certainly a diuretic.

“I wonder how long we’re going to be stuck here. Is it often like this?”

“Who knows? I’ve been becalmed for five days before now, but it’s usually not more than a few hours. The wind’s often light for a while after a calm, but there’s a fair chance of an onshore breeze once the sun burns this fog off. And you can just about see the disk of the sun now.”

Mashaar nodded over my shoulder, and I looked round. The sun, a slightly brighter disk showing through the fog, was behind me. We’d turned a half turn in the night.

“You’re not worried about drifting onto rocks in the fog like this?”

“No. There’s no wind, we’re going nowhere. We were ten miles or so off the coast last night, and we won’t have moved more than a mile in the night. It’s all deep water around here. Too deep for an anchor – well, too deep for any rope we’ve got, anyway. The fog’ll be gone soon, and then we’ll see where we are.”

Mashaar knew what he was talking about. Within minutes, we could see patches of blue above us, and the top of the fog was visibly moving. Not fast, but definitely blowing gently shorewards. Before long the whole fog right down to water level was on the move, and there were the faintest signs of ripples on the water. Mashaar motioned me away from the tiller, took hold of it, and pulled on the mainsheet. We were moving – slowly, but fast enough for the rudder to act, and slowly we turned round to face the sun.

“Well, I can’t see anything yet, but this is the right general direction, and it won’t be long before we can see where we are.”

“Any idea how long it’ll take to get to Oushi?”

“Depends how much the wind picks up. This is just an onshore breeze, nothing more than that. If that’s all we get, it could take most of the day. But don’t worry, Griima’s pretty safe the other side of the estuary. What worries me is what you’re going to do when you find her. You can’t both stay out in the wilds forever. Well, I suppose you could, but would you want to? Do you know how to scrape a living there? Do you want your children to grow up as little savages?”

A few weeks ago, I’d have been happy just to be alive and free. Being a savage myself would have been absolutely fine. Little savage offspring would have been an incredible bonus. How expectations and hopes change! And what does Aila want? Can Maamatta’s promise be relied upon? Should I tell these men about it?

No point telling them. It can’t be relied upon in any useful way – she’s got those two boys, who can’t be trusted. Things could go badly wrong there. We need Graamon’s help. Can we get to Baam in Barioha, without anyone catching hold of our tail? Should I ask these lads about that? No harm in it, I’m sure. They’re not going to tell anyone anything.

“We’ve got friends in Barioha who will be able to sort things out for us if we can get there safely. How far beyond Zhaam is Barioha? Could any of the fishermen take us there?”

“Barioha is up the river, and we can’t take these boats up there without knowing the river. The locals do, but nobody I know would go up there. But we can get to Mormi, at the mouth of the river. With a decent wind, it’s a day’s sailing from Zhaam to Mormi. You can hire a gig in Mormi, and I guess it’s about three hours into Barioha from there. That’s a guess, mind, I’ve never been. I’ve only been to Mormi a few times, after running before a storm.”

Of course. That’s why he knows Griishi so well. Any port in a storm – and Griishi’s relatively close to home.

The fog went quite suddenly. Everything to the north was still hidden in a bank of fog, but it was receding northwards quite fast. The wind was picking up a little. Ahead, I could see a rocky headland in the distance.

“That’s better! If this keeps up, we’ll be there by late morning. It’ll be low tide, so we’ll have to anchor offshore and go in in the dinghy. We’ll just have to hope no-one who matters sees you.”

Piiram had a better suggestion. “No, Owen can stay on the boat. You and I can go ashore and see if Jalaan’s there. No need for Owen to come ashore at all if he is, we can talk to Jalaan.”

I’d have liked to see Oushi, but Piiram’s right. Better let them do the talking anyway. Come and see Oushi with Aila sometime – but there’s a whole world to see, why Oushi especially anyway? Something about it has captured my imagination, but is it really anywhere special? Yaana was born there. So? See what Aila wants to do.

Mashaar altered course slightly, heading for a spot just north of the rocky point.

We did indeed arrive at Oushi late in the morning. Piiram dropped anchor a couple of hundred metres outside the breakwater. The anchor wasn’t an iron one with flukes, like the anchors I was used to in England. It was just a large lump of waterworn limestone with a hole in it.

“Dad remembers when you could come in here whatever the tide, in a bigger boat than this. Another fifteen years and they’ll have to build a new breakwater further out. We’ve got the same problem at Griimi, of course.”

And at just about every harbour in the world. You can see from the remains of their harbours, forty-five metres above sea level now, how the ancients had it easy, with sea level near enough constant for generations. They could build huge, deep harbours for huge ships, and expect them to last long enough to make the effort worthwhile.

Mashaar and Piiram climbed down into the dinghy. For a short while I could hear the neat plops of their oars as they rowed for the harbour. Not much splash. They’re good. Not surprising, I suppose.

I kept my head below the gunwale, and wondered how long they’d be ashore.

How will Aila react when I eventually catch up with her? Will she be pleased, or angry? She’s never been angry with me, but she did say I should find someone else. But she said she’d love me forever, too.

They didn’t actually take very long, although of course it seemed like forever.

“Jalaan’s there all right. He took her to Troum, but he can’t take you, he’s repairing his boat. It’ll be several days before he’s ready, he reckons. Griima told him you work for the Railway, though. We can’t afford the time to take you for nothing, but we’ll take you happily if you can pay us.”

Either Imbaal’s done rather well getting my clothes, or they’re doing rather well if he’s paying a fair price, or a bit of both. But fair play, they’re doing me a huge service, and I’m better off than they are.

“Fair enough. How much do you want?”

“How does sixty coins sound?”

Ouch. It sounds a lot. But I don’t really know what things cost, so I’m no judge. It might leave me a bit short, too. I can’t get any more until I can get to the station in Barioha. Surely they’re trying for a high price, and ready to haggle?

“It sounds a lot. I don’t have that much on me.”

Not quite true, but...

“Okay, make it fifty. And don’t worry, we’ll trust you to pay us later. We know you’ll come back. Just give us ten each for pocket money for the moment, if you can.”

I could, and I did.

“We can set off right now if you like, but there’s no strangers around, you can come ashore for a little while if you want to.”

“I expect he’d rather get moving. The wind’s fairly good at the moment, it’d be a pity to waste it.”

I’d have loved to have gone ashore for a while, but I wanted even more to get to Aila as soon as possible, and said so.

We had to beat upwind to get around this headland, too, but then it was a broad reach towards Troum.

“With this wind, we’ll make it around sunset – probably just a little after.”

What will the reception be like? Will Aila still be there, or will she have moved on again? Will she see us arriving? If she does, will she be afraid it’s Jerem’s man arriving? Hide somewhere to see who it is, or just get out of the way quickly? If she does see it’s me, how will she react?

You can’t think like that all the time. Once the fog had gone, there were wonderful views of the mountains behind us, snowy caps bright in the sunshine. In all other directions, all I could see was sea. Mashaar had no navigational aids whatsoever, but was clearly confident he knew where he was headed.

The wind kept pretty much the same all day, and Mashaar’s prediction wasn’t far off. A rocky coast appeared ahead late in the afternoon.

Mashaar altered course a little closer to the wind. “Not bad. We’re a bit too far up the estuary, but better that than risk going south of the point and missing it altogether!”

We still had a few miles to go to reach the coast. By the time the sun went down, I still couldn’t see any sign of a settlement, or indeed any sign of human life on the coast at all. The wind had dropped to a gentle breeze. But Mashaar said we were almost there.

There were quite a few stars in the sky when Mashaar announced that we were just off Troum. The moon was low in the west, little more than a fingernail. I couldn’t see a thing on the coast.

“Don’t they have lights in Troum?”

“Not many, and never any facing the coast. Especially no leading lights. Troum’s a strange place, not good to turn up after dark. It’s best if we anchor a little way off, and row in in the morning.”

It was only then that I realized he’d not lit a masthead light, either.

Mashaar brought us round into the wind, what little was left of it, and Piiram lowered the anchor stone over the bows.

I could see that he was feeling for the bottom. When he found it, he checked how much rope he had left, and seemed satisfied. He chucked the spare rope over the side. “Deep enough here, and the bottom’s soft.”

“The bottom’s soft everywhere here, as long as you’re not too close in.”

“Doesn’t that stone drag a bit?”

“Oh, yes, it drags a bit. We might have moved fifty metres by morning, more if there’s a real blow. But if there’s a real blow, you want it to drag. Better to drag it than go to the bottom where you are. But the water’s deep enough to know we’re not near any mud banks, and there are no rocks this far from the coast around here.”

Piiram started frying fish and potatoes again. Mashaar baited a series of hooks on a line that had several small floats, and cast it over the side. “More hope than expectation. This isn’t a very good spot.”

There was something calming about sitting in the cockpit under the stars, with the glow of the brazier almost the only light. We ate in silence.

Piiram made the leaf infusion again, and we sat sipping. The wind had dropped to nothing again.

After a while Mashaar broke the silence. “You’re not from anywhere around here, are you? I thought at first you were from Briggi, once I realized you’d swapped boots with Zhor. But you’re not. Briggi men talk a little oddly, but Laana isn’t your mother tongue at all, is it? Nor Maara, for that matter, I’m used to the way Maaramen talk. I can’t place your way of talking at all.”

“That’s not really surprising. I’m from England, and as far as I know I’m the only Englishman anywhere around here.”

“Never even heard of it. Whereabouts is it? It must be a long way off.”

“I don’t really know whereabouts it is, from here. And it is a long way off, but I don’t know how far.”

“How the devil did you get here, then?”

“That’s a long story.”

“We’ve got all night.”

I owed them that much. When I’d finished, Piiram wanted to know how I’d met Griima, but Mashaar shushed him. “I think it’s best if we don’t know too much.”

I was quite relieved. I didn’t want to tell too much, but nor I didn’t want to refuse.

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