Lorik The Protector (Lorik Trilogy) (8 page)

“Thank you,” Lorik managed to say. He could see the well now, although it was just a black shape in the darkness. It was little more than a mound of rocks, but a large wooden bucket was set on top. He lowered the bucket down and found the well to be shallow. It took all his strength to pull the bucket up, and then he immediately stuck his head down into the bucket and began to slurp up the fresh water. He stopped only to breathe, water dripping down from his forehead, nose, and beard. Then he thrust his face back into the water. He didn’t think he’d ever tasted anything so sweet. It was cool and refreshing. He could feel it run down into his stomach, and his mind seemed to focus.

After drinking half of the water in the bucket, he lowered it back down. He rubbed his face as the water from his hair ran down his cheeks.

“Hey, in the house,” Lorik called out. “I need a torch,” he said. “And I need to take this bucket.”

Carrying the bucket of water back to the beach was difficult for Lorik. Every muscle screamed in protest. His back ached, his shoulder and arm burned, and his legs felt so weak he feared they would collapse under him at any moment. All he could think about was lying down and going to sleep, but he pushed on, intent on bringing water to Vera and Stone.

When he reached the beach he could make out the shadowy form of the ship a short distance away. Some of the sailors had taken refuge on the rocky shore, but most were still on board. Lorik had a small tin cup and he began to let the dehydrated sailors drink the water in his bucket. They were used to rationing food and water, so they didn’t protest when he limited them to one cup of water. Even that little bit of clean water seemed to give them new life.

Lorik used the last of his strength to climb aboard the ship. He went to Vera and found Stone passed out next to her. He gave his friend a little water, dribbling it onto his dry and cracked lips. Stone’s swollen tongue darted out like an eel from its cave. He moaned and his eyes fluttered open.

“Here, drink this,” Lorik told Stone as the young man sat up.

Stone took the cup in shaking hands and slurped it down.

“Oh gods,” he croaked. “That’s so good.”

“I know,” Lorik said. “Help me give some to Vera.”

They propped Vera up, Stone holding her in his shaky arms. Lorik poured a little water into her mouth. She swallowed instinctively, coughed a little, then moaned.

“She’s still burning up,” Stone said.

“She needs more water,” Lorik said. “A lot more water. We all do. There’s a small farm not far from here. I’m going to give a little water to the others, then I’ll go back to the farm for more.”

It took an hour to trek back through the woods to the little farm. Light was pouring through the windows of the small cottage. Dogs began to bark and the cottage door opened. A grisly-looking man stepped out. He had long, gray hair and an equally long, gray beard.

“Where’s my bucket?” he asked.

“Right here,” Lorik said, holding up the bucket. “We need more water.”

“You really shipwrecked?” the older man asked skeptically.

“Not exactly,” Lorik said as he lowered the bucket into the well. “We were caught in a storm. Lost our mast and half the crew. All the water barrels were contaminated with sea water. We barely made it back to shore.”

“You realize you’re in the middle of the Sailor’s Graveyard,” the man said coming nearer.

Lorik noticed the man had another water bucket in one hand, while the other rested on a large Hax knife that hung from his belt.

“Yes, but our captain knows the Graveyard well.”

“Only one captain I know foolhardy enough to sail the Graveyard,” the man said. “Yulver, that your captain?”

“It is,” Lorik said. “Although he’s not in the best of shape now.”

“All right,” the farmer said. “I’ll help.”

They carried buckets of water back to the shore. Most of the men had managed to climb out of the ship now. The farmer carried his water bucket around to the men lying on the rocky beach. They guzzled the water from his pewter ladle greedily, then fell back onto the beach exhausted.

Lorik carried his bucket back onto the ship. He couldn’t remember ever having been so tired, but he knew there was more work to be done. Vera was sick, and he needed to get her off the ship and to a healer. He found Yulver asleep at the steering oar.

“Wake up,” Lorik said, nudging the ship captain.

“What?” Yulver said angrily, his voice so hoarse it was barely more than a whisper.

“There’s a farmer here who knows you,” Lorik said, handing Yulver a tin cup of water. “You need to speak with him. He’s got water, but we’re going to need a healer.”

“All right,” Yulver said, after he had gulped down the water. “Where is he?”

“He’s on the shore, giving water to the men there.”

Lorik watched as the older man lumbered away, then he turned to the small shelter where Stone and Vera were. He moved to Stone’s side. The young warrior was asleep near Vera. He would have let his friend sleep, but he knew Stone needed to drink as much as Vera did. He nudged Stone gently. Stone’s eyes fluttered open.

“More water,” Lorik said.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Stone said.

“Let’s just hope Vera can say the same thing.”

Stone wanted to give most of the water to Vera, but Lorik insisted that Stone drink his fill. It took almost the entire bucket before Stone sat back against the railing of the ship. His stomach was full of water and his eyes drooped. Lorik was dribbling water onto Vera’s feverish lips.

“What’s the plan?” Stone asked.

“One of us has to go for a healer,” Lorik said.

There was a pause as both men fought to control their emotions. Neither wanted to do anything except drink more water and sleep. But they both knew that Vera needed help, and they didn’t trust anyone else to get it for her.

“You can stay here with her,” Lorik said. “I’ll bring more water and then go for help.”

“No,” Stone said. “You go get more water, then stay with Vera. I’ll go for help.”

“Are you sure?” Lorik asked.

“Yes, I’ll sleep until you get back.”

“All right, but I can go if you change your mind.”

“You’ve done enough,” Stone said, gripping his friend’s shoulder. “You got us here and you got help. We’d probably all be dead if it weren’t for you.”

“You rowed with me the whole time,” Lorik said.

“Yes, but only because I didn’t want you to show me up,” he said smiling. “You saved us, I’m not kidding about that.”

“I was just trying to save my own neck.”

“I know better than that,” Stone said. “You’re always looking out for other people. If it had just been you alone on that ship the outcome may have been different. I guess I’m trying to say thank you.”

Lorik just smiled a weary smile at his friend and picked up his bucket.

It took another hour to get back to the farm. Lorik simply had no strength left. His legs felt like stones, and his back throbbed with fiery pain that flared with each step. His shoulders drooped, and his head seemed to grind against the bones in his neck. The empty water bucket was heavy and he couldn’t imagine how he would carry it full of water back to the ship.

The farmer was leading Lorik and the sky was beginning to brighten. Thick white clouds were visible as gray shadows against the sky turned from black to pearlescent. The farmer didn’t talk much, and his pace wasn’t too fast, for which Lorik was grateful. The small cottage was set back almost a mile from the shoreline, through a forest of thick trees. Luckily, there wasn’t much undergrowth and Lorik only had to worry about tripping on the gnarled roots of the trees.

“I don’t suppose you have a horse,” Lorik said when they reached the farmhouse.

“Of course I have a horse. I have a lot of animals.”

“I just need the horse.”

“You seem to need a lot of things.”

“I’ll bring it back,” Lorik explained. “We need a healer.”

“Closest one I know if is near ten miles up the coast,” the farmer said.

“Which is why I need the horse.”

“You don’t look fit enough to ride a horse.”

“My friend will go for the healer. Can you saddle the horse for me?”

“Sure,” the farmer said.

He stalked off toward a small stable. Lorik wondered how the farmer must feel. Lorik loved his own horses; they were almost like family to him. He didn’t think he would just let a stranger ride off on one, even if it was to go fetch a healer. Still, the farmer didn’t seem to mind too much. Lorik decided he would make it up to the man somehow.

Raising the water bucket from the well left Lorik breathless. He was sitting on the stone edge of the well when the farmer returned. He was leading an older-looking plow horse that probably hadn’t been saddled in ages.

“She’s a bit out of practice, but she’ll get you to the healer,” the farmer explained. “Ride straight up the beach until you come to a river. Then follow the river through the forest. The town is called Hanesworth, and there’s a healer living there. He may not be in the village though. He travels some when he needs to.”

“Thanks for everything,” Lorik said. “I’ll bring the horse back as soon as I can.”

“I’ll get some food together and take it out to the ship.”

“Thank you,” Lorik said again. “I’m not sure how we can repay you.”

“Oh, I have a few ideas,” the farmer said with a grin.

Lorik smiled and nodded, then climbed into the saddle. The farmer handed the bucket up to him and he took it, trying to hide the pain it caused him to hold the heavy bucket. Every nerve in his hand and arm was screaming to release the heavy weight, but he held fast and nudged the horse forward. The old plow horse moved forward obediently. She wasn’t fast, but she seemed plenty strong. Lorik balanced the water bucket on the saddle horn and let the horse make its own way through the trees. When he finally reached the beach the sun was throwing long pink and red streaks across the sky. The ship was settled against the shore and the tide had run out, leaving most of the ship out of the water. It was tilted and looked too heavy and cumbersome to ever float. Most of the ship’s crew and volunteers who weren’t injured were asleep on the beach.

Lorik led the horse out to the ship since the water had receded. From the horse’s back he was level with the ship’s rail and set the bucket on board before crawling over from the saddle. He tied the horse’s reins onto the railing and went to find Stone. The young warrior was sleeping beside Vera. Lorik hated to wake him up, but he knew he didn’t have the strength for a ten-mile ride.

He nudged Stone and began to dribble more water into Vera’s mouth. She had been delirious with fever, never fully conscious. Her skin was pale and covered in a sheen of sweat. Her lips were dry and cracked so badly it was painful for Lorik to look at them. Her eyelids seemed thin, and spidery, blue blood vessels were visible in them. He lifted her head as he dripped the water between her lips. Her breathing was labored, but he saw her throat working to swallow the water.

“How is she?” Stone asked as he rubbed his face, trying to wake up.

“The same, I think,” Lorik said. “But she’s drinking the water; that’s got to be good.”

“I’ll get going.”

“Have some water first,” Lorik said as he handed his friend a tin cup. “I brought you a horse.”

“Where did you get a horse?”

“Same place I got the water.”

“Did you steal it?”

“No,” Lorik said. “The farmer is letting us use it. He said there’s a village with a healer about ten miles up the coast. You’ll come to a river, follow it inland.”

“Ten miles will take most of the day to get there and back again.”

“Maybe the whole day on this horse,” Lorik said. “She’s used to the plow, not the saddle. You sure you’re up for it?”

“I’ll make it,” Stone said. “Thanks for the water. I guess telling you to stay with her isn’t necessary.”

“I won’t leave her side. You can count on it.”

Stone bent over and brushed her lips with his. Then he walked away. Lorik saw him climb down from the ship and then up into the horse’s saddle. Soon he was moving up the coast at a canter. Lorik wanted to sleep but he knew he needed to keep giving Vera water. If he fell asleep nothing would wake him up for hours. So he sat back against the ship’s rail and fought to keep his eyes open.

Vera didn’t respond to the water, but she did continue to swallow it as long as Lorik dribbled it into her mouth. It was a slow, tedious process, and it still took all of Lorik’s remaining strength. The sun came up and the day grew warm. Lorik pulled the sail over them to give them some shade. Birds sang and the farmer moved among the men on the shore, continuing to deliver water and helping them move into more sheltered places among the trees.

Sometime after noon Lorik finally passed out. He had given Vera almost half of the bucket of fresh water. The sun was going down when Stone shook him awake.

“What is it?” Lorik asked, as he tried to shake the fog of sleep from his mind.

“We’re back,” Stone said. “The healer wants to move Vera to Alyster’s cottage. Help me lift her.”

Lorik obeyed, although he wasn’t fully awake. They put Vera onto a folded piece of canvas sailcloth and used it like a stretcher. Some of the other sailors were awake now and moving the injured sailors off the ship. They helped lower Vera to the beach. Water was once again lapping around the ship’s hull. Yulver was on his feet directing his men.

Lorik saw it all and yet very little registered. They carried Vera back through the forest to the farmer’s house. Inside they found a small bed near the fireplace. The healer was brewing a drink for her on the fire. Lorik and Stone were soon sound asleep on the far side of the fireplace.

It was morning again when Lorik opened his eyes. Sunlight was streaming into the cabin from the windows the farmer was opening. The glass panes swung in, and he latched them to the wall with little wooden hooks.

“Back in the land of the living, I see,” said the farmer.

Lorik looked first at Stone who was still asleep nearby and then at Vera on the bed.

“Is she okay?” Lorik asked.

“She’s alive,” the farmer said. “The healer said it could go either way, I’m afraid. He’s gone back to Hanesworth for more supplies.”

Lorik got to his feet and moved to Vera’s side. He felt better, even though he was still tired and his body was stiff and sore from sleeping on the stone floor of the cottage. He was thirsty, too, and hungry as well.

“Do you have anything to eat?” Lorik asked without looking at the farmer. He placed one hand on Vera’s and laid the other on her forehead.

“Of course I have food. I’m a farmer, ain’t I? Do I have food...” he continued mumbling to himself. Then he handed Lorik a loaf of bread and a wooden cup of dark, red wine.

“The healer said you should have a glass of wine when you woke up. And then water the rest of the day. I suspect you’ll be staying here with her?”