The Black Fox

"The stone hasn't fallen in, Father."

"All the more reason to stay away."

"The legends say that our own folk knew magic, just as the foreigners from the west. The castle is more likely to be from one of our ancestors than from one the westerners."

"You can't believe every legend you hear. There's no such thing as magic."

"If that's so, then why doesn't Vitta allow the strangers in the ships to visit us?"

Torta let out a laugh. "Now you're using your head, Tulla." He waved his hammer. "Make sure you have food and water for the rest of the day. How long will you be gone?"

"I'll try to get back in a day or two, Father."

"Be careful."

"I shall." Tulla nodded and left the shop.

He walked to the cabin that served as the home for he and his father. Tulla knew his father made enough at blacksmithing that Torta could buy or build a proper house. He also knew that a house would remind his father of the wife and two other children that had died of sickness a few years back. Work kept his father going, not his home life.

Tulla went into the cabin and to his bed. He reached underneath for his crossbow, his knives, and his cloak. He found enough dried meat and bread to take with him, and wrapped them in a piece of cloth. He found his canteen, left the cabin, and turned to head for the nearest water pump.

Remembering that the nearest well was close to the center of town, Tulla chose to go to another well. He wasn't in the mood to give respect to Vitta's boots, not with the sight of the ships clear in his mind. He wandered through Varkon, pausing now and again to watch folk hard at work at one shop or the other. He drew enough water to fill his canteen, then made his way past the coastal farms and into the wooded wilderness.

He knew it would be foolish of him to try to swim out to the ships while the sun was still up. If one of the guards saw him, or if one of Vitta's few friends saw him, they'd run to Vitta. Vitta would then be certain to turn out the town to find out who dared to defy the Ildyn. He would learn who soon enough, and Torta would be punished.

Tulla chose instead to do what he promised his father he would do. He loaded his crossbow, and moved through the woods a step at a time. He was able to surprise and bring down a raven and two rabbits. He saw no traces of foxes, beavers, or any other animal that would earn him a few more silver for its fur or feathers. He noticed that some of the wildflowers were starting to bloom. That told him that the time for gathering flowers for potions and special drinks was approaching. Spring had indeed returned for good, and summer was on the way.

Tulla decided that, at nightfall, he'd camp close to the sea. Usually he preferred a campsite farther inland. He could set a trap, or if the wilderness was alive with too much sound, he could find a branch up a tree for safety. But that night he had another idea in mind. He needed to be just far enough from town so that no one would see his camp, yet close enough so that he wouldn't spend half the night in the water swimming. He found a spot just as the sun was setting. He ate supper, then waited until it was dark. He took off his cloak, shirt, and boots, and went into the salty water.

Swimming was the one common skill that Tulla didn't always have a chance to keep working at. The creeks and rivers close to Varkon were small enough to wade across. Tulla preferred hunting to fishing. All the same, he was surprised at how quickly the old lessons and the learned rythyms came back to him. He was not surprised, however, at how tired he felt as he approached the nearer of the two ships.

He thought he'd have to call out some sort of sound to attract the attention of the men on the ship. They had already seen him before he made it to the side of the ship, for one of them had already thrown the end of a rope into the water. Tulla grabbed the rope with both hands. He held on for a moment to catch his breath.