“It looks like some cliffs are overlooking the beach that we might be able to scramble up,” Kirsten said, pointing to the rock walls separating the black water bay from the rest of the Eastland coastline.
“Let’s do it,” Thomas said eager to escape the crowd.
Forcing their way through the mass of people still gathering, Max led them away from the center. Kirsten and Maija remained on the shoulders of their carriers because there wasn’t much room once they’d started moving for the boys to crouch down and let them off.
“Almost there,” Kirsten said to Bo while patting him on the head.
“Thanks for the encouragement,” Bo responded sarcastically.
“Sure thing, my little pony,” she said teasing him.
When they finally broke away from the crowd, Kirsten took two handfuls of Bo’s mid-length hair and said, “Whoa, pony!” He shook his head and bent down to let her off. She hopped off and thanked him for the ride. Kirsten lightly punched him the shoulder and said, “You’re pretty strong.”
“Your pretty light,” he responded tapping her shoulder lightly with his fist.
“Come on, you two,” Max said, waving for them to catch up as they were already making their way down the beach to the cliffs.
Bo and Kirsten jogged, catching up as the group walked swiftly around the mob and up to the base of the cliffs that created the secluded bay. Picking the least vertical route, they began to scramble up the rocks. Max and Thomas led the way, pointing out which hand- and footholds were the best to use. Bo went last behind Maija and Kirsten. Soon they were standing on top of a small cliff. Behind them was the Black Water Bay where Bo, Maija and Kirsten were forced off Thargon’s ship. To the northwest and away from the bay, they could see the long sandy Marauder’s Sea coastline and beyond the beach to the distant base of the Eastland Mountains.
“Not a bad view,” Thomas said when Bo reached the top alongside them.
“Not bad at all,” Bo replied. The sun hung low over the Marauder’s Sea to the west. The sky was just beginning to turn shades of deep purple, vibrant red and bright orange as the sun set.
“If we weren’t watching a funeral this would be a pretty romantic place to bring a girl,” Max said, sitting down and resting his forearms on his knees.
“Or a boy,” Thomas said, mimicking Max and smiling at him, eyebrows raised slightly.
Max looked at him a little taken aback by the comment and said, “Or a boy, if that’s what you’re into.”
Maija looked at Kirsten, eyes wide and head tilted a little sideways. Kirsten responded by shrugging and smiling slightly.
“They’re almost at the beach,” Bo said pointing down to the group carrying Jorgen’s body.
Everyone watched as they hauled the dead chief out onto the sand. They placed his body into a small boat that sat waiting on the beach. The boat was decorated with blooming flowers collected from the valley floor. Jorgen appeared to still be wearing his battle armor. They watched as Red placed a shield at his side and his sword in his hands, gripping the hilt at his chest.
The group of people who had carried Jorgen to the boat now stepped back while Red pushed the craft out into the sea’s receding tide. As he did so, the entire Rollo contingent began to sing. The song was sung in native Rolloan, so none of the other humans and elves watching could sing along.
After several verses, the five of them hummed to the repeating tune. This mass of people all singing in honor of their fallen leader was quite a spectacular sight to see. Despite their history of being tricked and ambushed by the Rolloans, even the elves stood to watch in respect for the dead chief. A Rolloan archer came forward and lit an arrow in a fire on the beach. He aimed the arrow, angling it skyward before loosing it toward the drifting boat. The shot was true and hit its target, thudding into the wooden boat. Kirsten expected the boat to burst into flames, but nothing happened. The flame on the arrow blew out, but just as the archer bent down to light a second arrow, the boat suddenly burst into flames.
“How did that happen?” Kirsten asked. “I saw the flame go out on the arrow.”
“I would guess that one of the elves did that with magic,” Max said. “They probably didn’t want the Rolloans to suffer the embarrassment of not having the arrow set fire to the ship.” They all nodded, realizing he was probably correct in his assumption.
After the singing ended, the five of them remained up on the rock until the sun was nearly below the horizon. The ship continued to burn as it drifted into the distance.
Through shivering teeth, Kirsten said, “I’m going back to camp; it’s getting cold up here.” She stood up and began to climb down.
“I’ll go with you,” Bo said following her.
Max, Thomas and Maija watched the sun fully set before they climbed down off the rocks.
Thomas and Maija waited for Max to catch up with them after returning to the ground, but he called to them, “I’ll meet you two back at camp. I need to talk with someone for a minute.”
“Okay,” Thomas said and split off with Maija.
Max turned, following the sharp line where grass turned to sand along the beach and into the edge of the camp. He needed to find Britt and knew she liked to set up her tent and build her fire along the outskirts of the camp.
After the sun had set, the sprawling encampment was illuminated by the glow of hundreds of campfires. Max walked among the tents and campfires looking at the faces of those lit by the fire. He was searching for anyone he recognized from Britt’s crew, or the Captain herself.
Eventually, he noticed her somber-looking face staring blankly into the flickering flames of her fire. Most members of her crew weren’t with her. Max was relieved to finally see her again and get a chance to talk to her alone.
Her campfire was near the edge of the camp, just as it had been when Anders and Max first met the Rolloans. The elves were close by, but not interspersed with the warriors. The tension between their two peoples was not relaxed enough for them to be sleeping and cooking among one another, but they had both seen battle recently and were not in any mood for fighting with each other.
“Captain,” Max said as he moved out of the shadows and into Britt’s view.
Britt’s expression lifted to a smile when she heard his voice, but she didn’t say anything in response. Looking at Max, she simply scooted over and patted the spot on the log next to her, inviting him to sit beside her. Max strode across the gap between them and sat down, exhaling as he did so.
“I’m sorry to hear about Jorgen,” he said.
“He was a strong leader and a well-minded person,” she said not lifting her gaze from the fire.
“Shouldn’t you be celebrating with the rest of the warriors? I thought it was an honor to die in battle,” he said, motioning toward the other groups of people dancing, whooping and shouting nearby.
Britt remained silent for a moment eyeing the other warriors before she spoke, “I’m happy that many of our people got to die an honorable death…”
“But…” Max said, trying to coax out the rest of what she was thinking.
“But I am sad. I’m sad to have so many of my friends gone from this world forever. I lost several good people from my crew, even though I know they died with the highest honor. I was there to see the pain and fear in their eyes when they were cut down,” she sniffled and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.
