TRIN

 

The land yachts glided onto the island shore on the gentling swell. While the men pulled the boats high above the tide line, Trin walked ahead towards the line of stunted trees, his face upturned, letting the rain drops catch in his mouth and on his skin.

Occasionally, on the Tourmalines, the lightest of rains would fall, no more than a mist, but never in his life on Araldis had Trin ever felt the full force of heavy raindrops.

He wanted to strip his robe off and let the pure liquid run over every part of his body. The salt taste on his lips could have been the seawater, or the tears that he made no attempt to stem, They’d survived and yet for those long moments during the storm he’d thought they were lost.

‘Principe?’

Djes was behind him, standing on unsteady legs, her waterlogged skin wrinkled and puckered. She’d covered her nakedness by knotting together the torn signal cloths and her smile was wide and childlike as she held her webbed fingers out to catch the rain.

He embraced her for all to see. ‘Thank you.’

She shook her head, dismissing her part. ‘You are the one that gives us belief, Trinder.’

He hugged her tighter. Over her shoulder, he watched the women’s yacht wallow in the small waves. The stronger ones helped the weaker ones through the shallows, while his Carabinere pulled the yacht to shore. Pitifully few of his men still survived.

‘The clouds will disappear soon. We should find shade,’ said Djes, stroking his arm. ‘I will fish now.’

While he reflected on their failures, she already looked to their survival.

‘No,’ he said. ‘You are exhausted. The swim was too far.’

She shook her head stubbornly. ‘We are safe now for a time. I can rest when we are fed. We will have time then.’ She pointed into the island. ‘Go past the line of trees, and to the south you’ll see large rocks—boulders. There are shallow caves among them, and fresh water on the eastern side. Don’t go towards the hills to the north. The bush is too dense. We will need to cut through it.’

He nodded, listening carefully. ‘I will tell Joe Scali to wait for you. He will carry what you catch.’

She smiled and pressed her face lightly to his arm. Then she stepped away. Her gait was ungainly as she walked along the sand to the water. She disappeared into the waves, tossing the cloths back onto the beach. Joe Scali collected them in a bundle and waved her off.

Trin walked down to join him. The euphoria of survival and the intoxicating feel of the rain were rapidly deserting him. Fatigue replaced them.

‘Wait in the bushes on the dunes for Djes until she has fished. Carry them back. She has told me the best place to take cover.’

Joe nodded, his swollen eyes roving the water for sign of her. ‘But she is exhausted.’

‘We are all exhausted,’ Trin said sharply, to allay his guilt. ‘Djes knows her limits.’

He left Joe and went further along the beach to Juno.

‘Crux Watched over us, Principe,’ Juno rasped.

‘Then let’s hope Crux brings us help soon. There is shade and water just beyond the bush line.’

 

* * *

 

They reached the outcrop that Djes had described, as the last wisps of rain cloud evaporated. The Carabinere had struggled through repeat trips to carry the weakest of the women when they could barely carry their own weight. Trin felt a swell of unutterable pride for his men who had given over their fellalos at his command, and still uncomplainingly worked to his word. To the last one, they were exhausted beyond speech.

They huddled in small groups in the shallow caves that had been created by the loose arrangement of the boulders. Trin shared one with his madre, who mercifully lay in the sand and slept almost immediately. Though he had not meant to, he dozed beside her until Tina Galiotto woke him with water cupped in a pod. She had begun to serve him, as well as his madre, as if it were the natural order.

‘Principe?’

He nodded thanks, and she left him.

He drank deeply and stared out across the open ground to the tree line that divided them from the beach. Leah had set, bathing the island in softer, almost bearable, warmth. Trin stood and stretched. Sleep had revived him enough to bring back the bite of hunger, and he walked from cave to cave, searching for Juno Genarro.

The Carabinere lay next to one of the women, his distant cousin Josephia Genarro, whispering. He sat up when he saw Trin. ‘Principe?’

‘I will go to the beach. Djes has not brought food yet.’

Juno began to climb to his feet but Trin forestalled him.

‘No. Stay. There is enough light left that I will be back before dark.’

Juno slumped back gratefully. ‘Walk with care. Do not get lost, Principe.’

 

* * *

 

In the fading light, the vegetation seemed altered, and Trinder broke through to the shoreline to the south of where they’d landed. He picked his way along the waterline towards the shadowy shapes of the flat-yachts. The low tide and the efforts of the men had beached them but they would need to find another way to secure them from freak waves.

He approached on feet made silent by the breakers. Where was Joe Scali? Where was Djes?

Then he heard them; the low murmur of voices coming from between the two yachts. He hastened, worried that she was hurt, or too exhausted to walk inland. He slipped past the bow of the first yacht and called out.

What had been one shadow on the sand between the yachts suddenly became two as Djes and Joe Scali pulled apart.

For a shocking moment he thought that the two of them had been embracing in the way of lovers, but as Djes found him and threw her arms around his waist, he crushed his unworthy suspicion.

Such a thing would never happen. It would not.