The Many Adventures of Peter and Fi Volume I: Homecoming

Chapter 4: At Sea Accusations

Obscured by a dense cloud layer, the sparkling moon bade no light upon the black ship silently cutting through the waters below. Peter leaned over the railing of the Scarecrow, finding solace amidst the waves lapping against the hull. Torches affixed to posts across the deck and stained glass oil lamps peppered along the rail cast a dim glow over the modest caravel. Peter's thoughts wandered back to the marsh, Beruka's final words resurfacing.

They had spent that afternoon digging the graves for the men who had perished. Seven holes lined up, dug out by six survivors. Even Fi helped out dutifully, alongside the three remaining soldiers who knew just as well it could've been them.

They each said a few words, thanking Reg, remembering their comrades, and apologizing for not being able to save them. When it came Fi's turn, she turned to the grave that she had dug, "You took my death in exchange for your life. I promise not to waste it."

"Where will you go now?" Beruka later asked him, as they sat by the water's edge.

"Home. To Perona." Was his reply.

"Why not come with me? I'm sure King Aberon will reward you handsomely for your contribution. I sure could use a certified mage on my assignments and I'm not ready to say goodbye to Fi here, either." Fi was fast asleep, leaning against Beruka's shoulder.

"She'd love that. But I'm afraid we can't. There's somewhere we need to be."

"At least I tried then," Beruka sighed, idly parting the little girl's hair away from her face. Her eyes lingered on the silver chain, descending to the locket that rested against her chest. "My people crafted that locket, you know."

"You're from Mhyr?" Peter asked.

"Aye. Finest craftsmen in all the land, so they boast. I'm not so sure myself, but their silverwork is truly wondrous to behold. I would've liked to take her to see it." Beruka turned back to Peter, a stern look in her eyes, "You take care of her, Peter. Little Fi has a strong heart, but constant battles will take their toll."

"I can handle it." Fi's voiced piped up, without opening her eyes.

"Oh can you?" Beruka goaded, wrapping her arm around the sleepy girl.

"I'll miss you Ruka." She mumbled, nuzzling herself deeper into Beruka's arms.

"I'll miss you too." She said warmly, before turning back to Peter, "I take it you intend to travel back with Mathers."

"Aye. That was the point of all this." Peter replied.

"A word of caution then. You've known him longer than I; Mathers does not know forgiveness. You managed to survive once, by sheer cheek, but do not cross him again. You will not get a third chance."

Peter returned Beruka's grave look with a smile, "I wouldn't dream of it."

He extended his hand and she grasped it; the firm handshake sealing their goodbye.

An old woman, back hunched, with a shawl covering her head, stepped up to the railing beside Peter. The dim light illuminated the creased lines stretched across her face and the broad smile hidden within. She was one of many passengers aboard the Scarecrow. Some twenty odd people were huddled in groups on the small deck of the once deserted ship; families, with children and elders alike. Poor, desolate men and women fleeing their lives in Maridel in order to test their luck on the shores of Perona. In plain terms, they were all illegal refugees. They were the goods that Captain Mathers was so eager to smuggle onto his ship.