Part Two
Chapter 1—Stuck in the forest with you
george and Marc awoke in a forest clearing. The sun was shining softly from behind the trees that surrounded them, and Robert was cooking breakfast (eggs) over a campfire, shading his face from the light grumpily. The cart was parked behind him, and Charlotte was nearby, enjoying a breakfast of fresh grass. Betsie and the other hens were
pecking about excitedly, apparently enjoying the change in environment.
"How long have we been asleep?" asked George, stretching his arms and legs. "It feels like years."
Marc rubbed sleep from his eyes, and grinned at Robert. "That trick last night was pretty groovy actually" he said cheerfully "In an un-groovy sort of way."
"Thanks?" guessed Robert, looking puzzled.
"I mean, it was groovy that we escaped" said Marc "But the depression was pretty much as grooveless as you can get."
"So, it was smooth then?" suggested Robert. Marc laughed.
"Yeah, whatever" said George "So, what're we going to do now?"
"Well first we're going to eat breakfast" said Robert, lifting the pan away from the fire and holding it out to the other two. "Sorry, no plates" he explained. George looked sulky. "How the hell can you eat fried egg with your fingers" he said grumpily "It's revolting"
Robert shrugged and ate his own egg in one bite. George wrinkled his nose in disgust.
"And after we've had breakfast" Robert continued "I suggest we go and knock at that little house over there. I would have knocked when I got here, but I didn't want to without you two being awake in case it was one of them from last night." He shuddered.
"Well, we won't find out who lives there by sitting here." said George. Then he stood up and began to stamp the fire out.
A few minutes later the three men approached the house cautiously. It was even smaller than their own cottage, and in a very poor condition. Virtually everything, from the leaning fence to the badly
fitting door to the damp walls, appeared to be badly in need of immediate repair.
As the three men got closer they could hear a raised voice, and the low murmur of another speaker. It was clear that some kind of argument was in progress. They were unsure whether or not they should interrupt the disagreement, and were debating this in half-whispers when George noticed that the window at the side of the house was slightly open. He beckoned the other two, and they crept quietly towards it.
Chapter 2 — Divine mercy
the house was sparsely furnished, and in as poor a condition inside as out. An old woman in a rough, brown dress was leaning against a table in the centre of the room, her voice raised in a combination of fear and anger. The attention of the three men was however given primarily to the other figure in the room. It was Father Herod, last seen inciting a mob to murder, now standing in front of the old woman, looking pious in his robes and explaining that if she couldn't pay her rent today then he was terribly afraid that she would have to leave his cottage. Immediately.
The old woman protested that she would have been able to do as he asked, but her crops had been trampled last night by an angry mob and thus she had nothing to sell at market the following week, and would starve if she didn't keep this week's rent money for food.
The priest smiled and put his black-clad arm around her. He sighed deeply. "My dear" he said smoothly, in his strange, soft voice "surely you can spare a little of your money. For the church?" He looked at her hopefully with his watery blue eyes.
"Well" began the woman hesitantly "As I say, I have a little money for food. Perhaps if I gave you part of it?"
"I'm sure that would be adequate, my dear" smiled Father Herod. His tongue flickered out over his pale lips.
The woman reached behind a badly carved wooden bear on her mantelpiece and picked up a small leather pouch tied with string, which she began to open slowly. The priest's slim white fingers removed it from her weak grasp. "This should about cover it, with a little extra for the church, to forgive you your sins, my dearest." He smiled again, and turned to leave.
"But Father" the woman rushed after him and clutched his arm "I have no more money for food"
"But a clean soul my lamb" said the priest soothingly as he slid out of the door.
The woman stood in silence, her back to the window. Then her shoulders began to shake. At the window, the three men turned away.
Chapter 3—A useful discovery
"father Herod was very harsh, even for him" said George as they turned away, leaving the old woman to cry in peace.
"Bet I know why" said Marc, rather smugly.
"Why?"
"He wants rid of the old woman so he can move some friend of his in there" Marc explained. "I heard them talking about it while I was in town last week."
"Couldn't he just throw her out then?" puzzled George
" 'Course not. It's a parish property. He's not allowed. Plus he's probably enjoying being as sadistic as possible ."
"I hate Father Herod." said George, with passion.
"Yeah, me too. I hate the way he looks at you with his eyes all funny, like he knows all your secrets and disapproves"
"And the way he puts his arm around you when he talks, like he's your friend."
"And leans really close to you"
"And watches you when you don't know he's there".
Both men shuddered. Robert, who had been ignoring them both, suddenly spoke.
"I think we should shelter in that barn and discuss our plans." he said "And we can move on later, or tomorrow."
"Why can't we just ask if we can stay for the night in the house?" Asked Marc "We could pay her in food."
"Because we're murderers on the run from the law, idiot" said George wearily.
"You're a murderer." Marc corrected, "I didn't touch him."
"Well either way they want to kill us all." Robert pointed out "Now come on."
The disagreement thus concluded they collected the cart and animals and headed for the barn nearby.
It was immediately obvious that the barn was not in fact a barn. It was in reality a small, extremely weathered boat house. A heap of what could possibly, a long time ago in a former life, have been fishing nets lay tangled on the ground next to a few lobster pots rusted to the ground. In the far corner was a single, rather old but fairly sturdy looking sailboat of a medium size with a tiny cabin and a trapdoor in the deck, painted bottle green.
Robert and George headed over to examine the craft. Marc stopped one of the stupider chickens running into the water and followed them.
"It's perfect." said George gleefully "We can easily escape by sea." He lifted the trapdoor "Look, a little hold thingy, for storing stuff. And there's a little cabin over there too. It's perfect."
"So we're going to steal a poor, starving old woman's boat?" said Robert "Well, that's really nice. Shall we murder her and burn her home down too?"
"Stop being all clever and sarcastic Robert" said Marc "Why don't we just leave Charlotte and the cart here in return. A much better bargain for her, but needs must." He looked smug at having solved the problem.
"Shall we leave the chickens here as well?" asked George
"Don't you dare leave Betsie" screamed Marc, clutching the aforementioned chicken to his chest.
"Alright, we'll take the chickens for Gods' sakes" shouted Robert impatiently, kicking a passing hen rather viciously. Marc pushed him in retribution and he nearly fell into the nearby water.
"Look, could everyone calm down please" shouted George.
"Oh shut up murderer" said Robert grumpily.
Tears came to George's eyes. "Will you stop going on about it." He brushed away the tears angrily "It was self-defence, and it saved your life you miserable fat pig"
"Alright" shouted Marc "Calm down and shut up. Can we escape now and argue later?"
"We all seem to have overlooked one thing" interrupted Robert "Where exactly are we escaping to?"
Chapter 4 — The geography of Rarn
here it is necessary to explain a little of the geography of the land which our three heroes inhabit.
The Land of Rarn is part of a large continent that its inhabitants call Uluria. Rarn is situated in Western Uluria, and is often described as a forest country. Its wildlife is obviously woodland animals such as bears, foxes and squirrels, and even a few wild boars.
Most settlements in Rarn are village size, but a few are considered towns. There is one city, the capital, Codonopal, which is considered by those inhabitants of Uluria who have actually heard of it to be ridiculously small for a city, never mind a capital. In fact it is only allowed to call itself a city because it was the only settlement in the whole of Rarn with both a Cathedral and large prison.
Rarn's main export is, naturally, wood. However, Rarn is not a trading nation, and its inhabitants keep themselves to themselves for the most part.
Uluria is made up of many different countries of varying sizes and disputable borders. The temperature, generally speaking, increases the further South you go. However the Deep South, nearer to the sea, is often stormy and wet, and so a far more hospitable climate than the desert centre of Uluria.
There are a few small islands, the only significant ones being to the south, but these are generally just extensions of the mainland rather than independent countries in their own right.
Little is known about the rest of Uluria by the natives of Rarn, which is not a country that bred explorers, or even the intelligent. However this was not entirely their own fault. Exploring was difficult and costly, and communication networks poor throughout Uluria.
Even less was known about the rest of the world, hence the difficult situation of the three friends. In fact, as far as Ulurians knew there were no other lands. Many myths had naturally developed on the subject of what lay across the sea, but few facts.
What was certain was that it was safe to sail for up to three days into the open sea. On the fourth day however, your boat would enter the fog which encircled the continent. Some boats had ventured within this fog, and reported that the further they sailed the denser and darker was the fog that surrounded them. There were also stories of strange monsters and horrible ghostly sights, but these were unconfirmed.
But no-one had any idea at all what lay beyond the fog. The longest anyone had sailed into it and returned was three days. Many people had, of course, tried to be the first to sail through the fog, although perhaps not so many as you'd expect, due to the high cost of ships and the desire for self-preservation. But no-one who had sailed for more than three days had ever come back.
So, as far as our three friends knew there was nothing outside Uluria but a quite possibly endless fog. Thus their alternatives for escape were few.
Chapter 5 — A decision has to be made
"well, we may as well sail North" said George "The nearest settlements are that way, even if it is horribly cold."
"No, I don't think...I mean...well...I..." stammered Robert desperately. George turned to Marc "North?"
""Yeah, sounds…"
"NO" screamed Robert, stamping his foot on the boards of the boathouse.
"God, all right." said George impatiently "Calm down. If you're that bothered we'll go South"
"We're not going anywhere near the South." said Marc urgently "Nowhere near." He moved towards George threateningly.
"Get out of my face you freak" shrieked George, backing away.
"Don't you call me a freak, you mad transvestite."
"Mad what, you…"
"Alright, alright" interrupted Robert "Shut up both of you. We'll just sail East, then everyone'll be happy."
"Oh no, not East" said George firmly "Anywhere but East."
"Well, someone will have to give up" Marc pointed out.
"And it won't be me" said George.
"Nor me" Robert glared defiantly
"Well there's no way it's gonna be me" said Marc.
The three men stood in a triangle, George frowned in annoyance, Robert looked spitefully at the other two and Marc clenched his jaw determinedly.
"So, shall we just stand here until we're killed then?" asked Robert.
"Well, there's only one solution." said Marc
"We kill Robert?" suggested George. Robert looked both angry and upset, like a particularly bloodthirsty scolded puppy.
"What we should do" explained Marc "Is to sail into the fog. At least that way we'll all be happy"
"And dead" Robert pointed out.
"How do you know we'll die? Nobody ever came back to tell."
"Because they were dead." said Robert bluntly.
"Do you have to be such a pessimist?"
"Well one of us has to consider reality. It's not all glitter and lipstick."
"Personally, I agree with Marc" said George
"But you called him a freak a second ago."
"Yeah, in the heat of an argument."
Robert sighed and looked at the other two with contempt.
"I just think" explained George " That if there's nowhere for us to go North, South, East or West then we'll just have to go somewhere else."
"And die?" said Robert "Oooh, great plan guys. Or we could just hang ourselves right here."
"Just 'cause you're scared" said George
"Of course I'm scared. We'll die."
"Well I'm not scared", Marc said looking determined, if a little nervous.
"That's because you're stupid." said Robert meanly. Marc looked hurt.
"So it's decided then." said George, and he began to load the contents of the cart onto the boat immediately, in order to prevent further argument. Marc followed suit. Robert looked grumpy, but reasoned that whatever else happened he definitely didn't want to stay there, and began to help them,
In a few minutes the boat was ready. They said goodbye to Charlotte, and left her hitched to the cart with a letter attached to her bridle explaining the reasons for the exchange (without mentioning phrases like "murder" "meat cleaver" or "dead butcher").
Finally they climbed into the boat, taking the chickens with them, and prepared to set sail.
Just as they were about to begin Robert suddenly jumped up. "I nearly forgot" he said "It's incredibly bad luck to sail on an unnamed boat."
"It's probably got a name already" said George, who was busy trying to sit down without an over-excited chicken getting In his way.
Marc hung his head over the side. "Well there's no name plaque."
"Boats are supposed to have female names" said Robert "I think we should call it Mary. That's a good name." He looked suddenly sad. "Or Fuchsia." he said softly.
"It's especially good luck if it's named after a female on board." Marc informed the others.
"The George it is then" said Robert. George looked as if he was seriously considering ripping Robert's hair out. Fortunately he was distracted by Marc saying "We could call it Betsie. She's a girl."
"No, she's a chicken." said Robert.
"We could call it after an animal" mused George "How about The Chameleon?"
"Or Cat Black" said Marc
"Look, we'll never decide, so lets just pick a name each and join them together" said Robert "Or we'll be here forever."
And so a few minutes later the "Cat Black Fuchsia Chameleon" set off into the open sea, the three men waving goodbye to Charlotte as they sailed away into the calm waters.
