Someone Else's Kingdom, BOOK I - Chapter 25

As calm returned to the bay and each crew got their respective ships in order speculation quickly turned to the upturned boat that had been spotted. Eartaria in particular wanted to go ashore to see if there were any survivors, so it was agreed they would drop a small boat over the side, and that he, along with five or six other men would head to the beach. As they began to row off they looked out across the stretch of cove. There were a few small homes not far from the shoreline, and about a mile or so down the coast another equally small little settlement visible.

Indeed, several people had survived the upturning. The young boy, most fortunately, had been carried ashore by the ship's pilot. Likewise, Coulema Galina, and another one his guardsmen had somehow found their way to dry land. The other two guardsmen, alas, still missing. Presumably submerged.

After clambering ashore alone Galina had made his way to one of the homes near the bay, where a small fishing family had offered help. Distraught that he'd lost the young boy he was sworn to protect, and fearing the worst, he nevertheless felt the desperate need to return to the scene. The bearded father of the household, along with his ruddy-faced son, offered to search in his lieu, while he regained his lungs, but refusing, the three of them headed out together to comb the bay. Meanwhile, further down the seafront, the boy, the other guardsman, and the ship's pilot were all recovering their own breath. Grateful that they'd somehow survived the capsizing, yet also somewhat anxious about the large foreign ships they could now see looming on the charcoal blue sea.

What was too small to see was Eartaria, in his own boat, rowing towards the pebbled beach. Aiming, as they were, in the direction of the few homesteads. As he closed in he quickly espied the three wreck-survivors trudging along the beach. He clutched his musket and signalled to the others. Had Acalee or Essen known he'd taken such weaponry ashore they would not have sanctioned it, but Eartaria was rather more lax in his thinking, and such was the advantage the weaponry gave him he felt little need to worry about.

As they rowed on they were afforded an increasingly good view of their quarry. Even soaked and bedraggled, the clothing they could see was rather a cut above what one would normally expect. Especially the young boy's and the guardsman's, who were clearly of a higher status. As Eartaria's boat ran upon the beach he stepped out into the cold water, still clutching his musket. His men following his lead. Creeping briskly he began to follow the survivors. The pursuing footsteps were quiet on the wet sand, but on the open seafront there was little place to hide as they gained in closer. Then, the ship's pilot glanced back. He spotted the figures in the distance. After a tiny pause of apprehension, he, the young boy and the guardsman began running. The guardsman dragging the young boy as he did so. Eartaria's wet steps turning into a sprint as he immediately gave chase.

The lay of the land left the three with little place to run. The stony beach ahead gradually narrowed, and the bank of earth leading up to higher ground was steep and brushy. Finally, they opted to ascend the tricky slope, but it was no use. Already exhausted from their travails they lacked the guile to make the climb, especially so the young boy, who kept dropping behind the other two. Realising the writing was on the wall they slipped their way back down and turned to face their pursuers.

"Why are you running?" asked Eartaria, with a clear smirk.

"Because you were chasing us," came the quick reply from the ship's pilot.

"We only chased because you started running. Where are you going?"

"We're going nowhere," responded the guard, ".. We're just off home."

"You've been somewhere, we saw your ship overturn ..where've you came from? There's no land for miles around. Or have you came from the capital perhaps?"

"We're just fishermen," intoned the guardsman.

At this point Eartaria and the other men burst out laughing.

"You're not fishermen. Fishermen don't dress like this. You're clearly doing something more interesting than fishing ..and who is the boy?"

"He's no one."

"He's clearly someone ..we'll have to take him with us."

At this point the guardsman pulled his sword from its sheath. Eartaria lifted his musket and bluntly shot the guard in the neck. The noise reverberated around the bay. The guard instantly dropped dead to the ground. The crude blast of the musket shot leaving a bloody and disfigured mess.

After the slight period of shock the ship's pilot raised his hands in compliance. He and the boy were then quickly shepherded in the direction of the rowboat. The boy walked on in silence, not making a gesture. As the captives were pushed on Coulema Galina and his two companions came down onto the beach from the opposing end. Alerted by the noise. Seeing the young boy Galina ran swiftly down to meet the group, his relief to find the boy alive instantly cut short by the circumstance.

"Don't make me do to you what I've just done to your friend," cut Eartaria. He then ushered the young boy onto the boat. The musket firmly to his back.

"Surely you can leave the boy," pleaded Coulema, "..he's just the ship's lad. I'm a member of the King's Guard. I'm much more valuable. Take me."

"We'll take you both ..drop the sword."

With that Coulema Galina then pulled his sword from its sheath and cast it to the beach. He then took his place on the small, now tightly packed rowboat, alongside the young boy and the pilot. The bearded father and his red-faced son watching on with concern, but self-interested relief. Wondering what exactly they were witnessing. With an equally watchful eye Eartaria sat at the head of the boat, aimlessly waving his musket about, as his crew rowed his new found cargo back to the Dracette.