13
Water all Around
CLARKE
"Why have you brought them here, Emori?" The man asked, anger and fear darkening his honey-brown eyes. "Don't you know the dangers of being seen with the Sky People?"
"How did you know we were Skaikru?" Clarke asked, frowning down at her long, black cloak. She was dressed in the clothing Titus had given her, the garb of the old commanders. Murphy was also dressed as a Grounder, looking all the world like the fleimkepa he had once masqueraded as.
The man rolled his eyes. "Your arrogant walk, your posture, the way you hold your chin out as you speak, your stench..." He paused, eyeing Murphy.
Murphy furrowed his brows in confusion, lifting one arm to sniff at its pit.
"Your unmarked skin, your speech..." The man continued. "Take your pick."
"But I was speaking Trigedasleng," Clarke argued.
"Yes," the man answered. "And with all the skill of a toddler."
"We need a boat." Emori answered, cutting between them. "Just for the day. I know you can hook us up, Gedeon."
"We're on the brink of war..." Gedeon replied, not acknowledging Emori's request. "And you dare bring Sky People here?"
"What are you talking about?" Clarke asked. "Why is it dangerous to be seen with Skaikru? Skaikru is part of the Coalition. As members of the Alliance, we have rights, same as you. There is no ordinance against us being here. And what do you mean, the brink of war?"
"Have you had your head up in the clouds, Sky Girl?" Gedeon replied. "The Coalition fell two days ago. The Alliance of the Clans will no longer protect Skaikru. Azgeda means to eliminate Skaikru and any clan foolish enough to stand by its side. Anyone who offers aid, protection, or safe harbor to a Sky Person will be counted an enemy of Azgeda."
"What are you talking about?" Clarke asked again, struggling to comprehend the enormity of the news. "King Roan..."
"King Roan?" Gedeon interrupted. "Roan is dead. His brother is king now."
"Arlen?" Emori cut in, worry in her voice.
Clarke looked at her for explanation.
"Arlen is Queen Nia's second born son, but he was always her favorite, her pick for the throne. He is as cruel, relentless, and power-hungry as his mother had been. If he marches on Arkadia, Gedeon is right... He won't stop until Skaikru is entirely eliminated."
"Fuck that." Murphy cut in. "Clarke, we have to go back. We have to warn everyone."
Clarke bit her lip nervously, thinking. "How much time do we have?" She asked Gedeon.
"Who is to say?" He replied. "A week? Two weeks? Maybe three? He is readying his forces as we speak. He is issuing threats and threshing the allies from the enemies. He will march on Polis first. He will destroy what is left of Trikru... which is not much, thanks to your people. He will take the Commander's throne as his own. Then he will turn his cold gaze towards Skaikru. And Skaikru will burn."
"How do you know all of this?" Clarke asked, warily. "How can I know that your information is correct?"
"I work on a dock, Sky Girl." Gedeon answered. "I interact with travelers all day long. And news always travels fastest by water."
"We need to go back, Clarke." Murphy repeated.
Clarke set her jaw and fixed her eyes on Gedeon's. "We need a boat."
"Have you heard a word I said, Sky Girl?" Gedeon asked. "Only a fool would offer any assistance to Skaikru right now. I shouldn't even be speaking with you."
"Clarke," Murphy started, pulling at her arm.
Clarke ignored him, wriggling free of his grip. "We've already come this far, Murphy. We get what we need and then we go back to warn everyone. If we turn back now, we're all dead anyway." She turned back to Gedeon. "We need a boat. We're prepared to compensate you for it."
She reached into the pocket of her cloak and pulled out the long golden chain Emori had offered her earlier, explaining that Gedeon had a weakness for shiny things. Clarke had felt guilty taking it from her, but she had just shrugged and said, "It's not mine, really. I got it off a dead man."
Gedeon was still sneering at her, but Clarke could see the hunger in his honey-brown eyes, which themselves were flecked here and there with gold as if reflecting the jewelry.
"We'll have it back by evening. No one has to know." Clarke said, dangling the necklace before her.
After a long moment Gedeon finally snatched the chain from her fingers and handed a key to Emori. Take Flightless Bird... Graunpeka, end of left dock. Bring her back under cover of darkness. If anyone asks, you took her without asking, understood?" Emori accepted the key as Clarke nodded at Gedeon.
"For now," the man continued. "Put your hoods up. Keep your mouths shut. And try not to walk like you just fell out of the damn sky."
...
Clarke shook her head. "No. There is no way Arkadia can stand against Ice Nation. Gedeon's right... They'll eliminate us. I only caught a glimpse of their army, Murphy and it was huge. And who knows how many allies they have added to their number, now that the Alliance has split?"
"Azgeda is the largest of the clans." Emori spoke as she guided the old, beat-up fishing trawler across the waters. Half an hour ago the wide river had spit them out onto a massive lake, so vast it could be easily mistaken for a sea. They had been hugging the shoreline, but Emori now pointed the bow towards open water.
"They have the largest land mass and one of the highest populations." Emori continued. "And they put so much emphasis on military might that nearly every adult trains in combat. Even the craftsmen and builders and tradesmen are all skilled in the art of war. Because a large portion of their land is frozen for the majority of the year, they don't exactly do a lot of farming up there. So for decades, before they finally joined the Alliance, Ice Nation would gather food and supplies by sending out raiding parties to pillage and plunder other clans. Trikru, Podakru, and Boudalan had it the worst because of their shared borders with Azgeda. But sometimes Azgeda would send parties down river to Delfikru or even along the coastline to Ouskejonkru. Most of the clans were against allowing Azgeda into the Alliance. But Commander Lexa let them join with the agreement that the raids would end in exchange for established friendly trade with the other clans."
"So are Boudalan and Podakru allies with Trikru since they were the most heavily preyed upon?" Clarke asked. "Would they offer us aid or take in refugees?"
"No." Emori answered. "Trikru was the only clan of the three who ever put up a fight against the raids. Rock Line gave in to Azgeda's pressure long ago and now they're practically just an extension of them. They are separate clans by name, but no doubt if war breaks out, Boudalan will march alongside Azgeda. The Lake People, on the other hand, are timid, peaceful people... Fishermen and boaters. They weave nets and baskets and clean fish and build boats and when Ice Nation comes into their villages they give them what they ask for and beg for their lives to be spared. They can't defend themselves, let alone help anyone else."
"What about the other two you said?" Murphy asked. "Delly and Ooskeejohn?"
"Delfikru and Ouskejonkru." Emori corrected him.
"Is that not what I said?" Murphy laughed.
"Delphi Crew and Blue Cliff Clan usually prefer to stay neutral and avoid conflicts that don't directly involve them. If forced to choose sides... I don't know... They could go either way. But I wouldn't count on either of them to come along and save the day."
"Is there anyone we CAN count on for help?" Clarke asked with a sigh of exasperation.
"Trikru's closest allies have always been Floudonkru..." Emori started, but Clarke cut her off.
"Luna won't help us." Clarke interrupted. "She's a trained warrior, but she still thinks she's a damn pacifist. They won't fight beside us."
"Even if they won't fight, maybe they'll be willing to take people in?" Murphy suggested.
"I doubt it." Clarke answered. "I don't think she'd be willing to put the safety of her people at risk. Even if she agreed to it... There's not enough room on her rig for all of us, let alone all of Trikru. No... We can't count on Luna and the Boat People." She told Murphy.
"But I cut you off..." She said to Emori. "Who else might ally with Trikru?"
"Besides Floudonkru," Emori answered. "Trikru has always found allies in Ingrarona and Trishana, the Plains Riders and the Glowing Forest. They MIGHT stand with Trikru." She put a whole lot of emphasis on the 'might' and Clarke could tell she doubted the word even as she spoke it. "But as far as allying with Skaikru..."
"We have no allies." Clarke finished for her.
"Arkadia's about as good at making friends as I am, huh?" Murphy said with a dry chuckle.
Clarke knew he was right. Arkadia was the John Murphy of the thirteen clans. Their only real ally had been Trikru, and what had they done? Massacred an army sent to protect them. Declared war on their only ally and left it as crippled and vulnerable as Murphy had once left Raven. Clarke had trusted her people and Lexa had trusted Clarke and Trikru had trusted Lexa. And now Lexa was gone and Trikru was crippled and Clarke was out of ideas and her people were screwed. And it was all their own fault. They had shot themselves in the foot and now they were bleeding all over the ground and there was no one left to help clean up the mess.
"So... If we can't hold them off in Arkadia and there's nowhere to run..." Murphy was looking at Clarke for answers and Clarke had none to offer. "What do we..."
Murphy never finished the question. The "pop, pop, pop," of gunfire exploded in the air around them. The "pops" were punctuated by shouts and hollers, and under it all, the rumble of an engine. The three of them ducked onto their hands and feet, crouching and desperately covering their heads as bullets pinged off the metal sides of the old trawler.
"What the fuck?!" Murphy called out as Clarke scrambled on her belly across the boat's deck to its edge to try to catch a glimpse of their attackers. A small speed boat was circling the trawler, carrying five Grounders. Grounders... With guns.
"Pirates!" Emori shouted over the cacophony of gunfire and bullets ricocheting off of metal, revving engine and hollering and laughing.
"What do we do?" Clarke shouted back. No one answered. But the answer was obvious. There was nothing they could do. The trawler was slow and old and heavy, and though Emori threw herself against the throttle, even at full speed it was mere seconds before the men in the boat had captured it. They threw roped hooks onto the trawler's deck, tethering the two boats together. Clarke frantically tried to reach the nearest hook and throw it back overboard, but the bullets rained down around her, pinging off the deck mere inches from her. She was pinned. They all were. There was nothing she could do. There was nothing any of them could do.
Clarke knew that Murphy had a pistol concealed in his cloak. But each of the men now climbing their way up the ropes and onto the trawler was armed with a semi-automatic rifle. All Clarke had on her was a long knife sheathed at her hip, beneath the folds of her cloak.
"I thought Grounders didn't carry guns." Clarke heard Murphy grumble from his hiding spot in the Trawler's wheelhouse beside Emori.
"Pirates do whatever the hell they want." Emori replied. "Don't resist them. They will not hesitate to kill us."
The men leapt aboard, still hooting and hollering. A thick man with braids in his long tangled hair and unkempt beard pointed his rifle towards the sky and let out five quick rounds that echoed through the air.
"Who's the captain of this vessel?" He called out in Trigedasleng with a laugh. "Come out, come out. We just want to talk. No need for anyone to get hurt. We just want all of your weapons and all of your valuables. Cooperate and we might let you keep your lives."
"We have no valuables." Clarke called out, slowly rising to her feet with her arms held high. "You waste your time here, pirate."
The man let out a burst of cold laughter. "The girl wants to play!" He said excitedly to his guffawing comrades. "Usually people just cower and give us everything we ask for." He said, turning his ugly marked face to Clarke. Black lines criss-crossed his face and it was hard to tell the scars from the tattoos. "It's so much more fun when they decide to play. Much more sporting when our victims have some fight in them." He smiled, then his tone became serious and threatening. "How many on board, girl?"
Clarke made no reply.
"No valuables, eh?" The man spoke over her silence. "Then you won't mind if we take a look around. Go on... Boys."
The man's companions dispersed, two headed below deck, two headed towards the wheelhouse where Clarke knew Murphy and Emori still crouched. The bearded man remained glaring at Clarke, his rifle pointed at the fleshy spot above her navel.
"Found two more rats hiding up here, Cap'n" A man's voice called from the wheelhouse.
"Bring them here." The captain replied.
"Get your filthy hands off of her!" Clarke heard Murphy grunting as he struggled against them. "Don't fucking touch her."
The men herded Emori and Clarke onto the deck beside Clarke, prodding them forward with the tips of their rifles jabbing into the smalls of their backs. One of them kicked at the back of Murphy's knees and he fell onto his hands and knees before the captain.
"Welcome to the party." The captain laughed.
"What do you want from us?" Emori growled brazenly. "We have nothing."
"Another fighter." The captain laughed again. "Nothing, eh? We'll see about that. Search them boys." He commanded. "Start with this one." He added, eyeing Emori with a hungry glint in his dark eyes. "Make it... Thorough."
"Don't fucking touch her!" Murphy called out again as one man stepped behind Emori, securing her wrists as the other ripped at the buttons of her cloak. "Hurt her and I will kill you." Murphy snarled at the captain.
The captain took his gun off of Clarke and pointed its tip against Murphy's forehead. Murphy glared defiantly up at him. "You're in no position to issue threats, boy." The captain growled.
Clarke's heart pounded wildly against the cage of her chest. She could feel the adrenaline pulsing through her veins, making her fingertips tremble. The men tore Emori's coat from her shoulders, rummaged through its pockets, and tossed it aside. Clarke watched as one man pulled a knife from his hip and cut through Emori's leather belt as Murphy looked on helplessly. The man began to pull at the front of her pants.
Clarke knew that when they were finished having their way with Emori, the men would turn to her. They would find the flame. And she could not let that happen. She had to act.
"There's nothing down here but nasty fishing gear Cap'n." A voice called from below deck. Clarke could hear the men rummaging through the room underneath them. Soon they would climb back up the stairs and the three men holding her at gunpoint would become five. She had to act now.
"Stop!" She cried, in mock desperation. "Stop! Leave her alone! I'll give you what you want!"
The captain's gun remained trained on Murphy, but his hungry dark eyes turned back to Clarke. She took a bold step towards him, reaching into the folds of her cloak. "I'll give you everything we have... Just don't hurt them, please!"
She took another step forward, stopping within an arm's length of the captain. She had his full attention now. The tip of his gun drifted from Murphy's forehead to chest. Murphy's wide eyes met Clarke's and she could only hope he would be quick on the uptake.
"Here." Clarke said in a defeated voice and the blood rushed her head as she pulled the knife from her hip and drove it into the side of the captain's neck. Murphy shoved the point of the man's gun to the side as a shot rang through the air. He wrenched it from the captain's hands as the blood erupted from the man's neck, spraying Clarke across the face.
Clarke blinked against the blood burning her eyes as more shots rang out around her. But before she could make sense of the world, she felt the weight of the thick captain slam into her and suddenly she was stumbling backwards blindly. She hit the edge of the deck and her boots slipped on slick water and slicker blood and all of the sudden she was tumbling through nothingness.
The cold slap of the water stung her cheek as she plunged through its surface. The weight of the captain fell on top of her, dragging her into the water's depths and Clarke could think of nothing. Nothing but the cold all around her and the hot panic inside her, burning like a fire in her lungs. She kicked and wriggled and writhed against the weight of the captain. But he had a hold of her and was pulling her under and she could not breathe. She could not breathe. She could not breathe.
Red swirled all around her, water and blood mingling. And her hands groped for the air but there was only more water above her and water below her and water all around her. There was only water. And she could not fight it any longer. Her lungs were on fire and the flames were consuming her and there was only one way to put the flames out. So she opened her mouth and let the water rush inside.
And the water filled her lungs. But the fire still burned. She tried to cough but there was no air. And she tried to breathe but there was no air. And she tried to scream but there was no air. There was only the water.
The blackness was flooding her eyes and a small voice echoed through her clouded mind. "Do not be afraid, Clarke... Death is not the end." And Clarke tried to be brave. She tried to believe Lexa's words as the end rushed upon her. And she was being pulled. Pulled through the water. And the arms wrapped around her like the arms of Death.