Tortoise crested the rise of the small hill to find Old Gudge sitting on a rough bench contemplating the view. He paused uncertainly.
“Join me,” Gudge said.
“Alright,” Tortoise said. He sat down beside him and stretched out his legs. They were still stiff and aching from the trek over the island. The two of them sat in silence for a while. It was late morning and the sun shone wanly. More snow had fallen during the night. The sounds of work drifted up from the shoreline on the frigid breeze.
“You did well on the crossing,” Gudge said at last. “How are you feeling?”
“Alright, thank you,” Tortoise said. “Still a bit tired. Everyone has been very kind and generous. Mr Solle especially.”
“He’s been good to us. Easy to help fellow sailors at the edge of the world.”
“This is the edge of the world?”
“Close enough. A lot more to see once we get back to the Pegasus and head south.”
“How are we going to find them?”
“Depends on how the battle went. There aren’t too many places we can be. Most likely she’ll find us. But if it went badly we’ll find her.”
“How do you know they survived?”
Gudge shrugged. “I don’t. But I believe they have. And that’s enough for now.”
“Could you give me some advice?” Tortoise asked, hesitantly.
“What about?” Gudge asked.
“Well, I don’t know really. I feel like I need some advice but I don’t know what it is.”
“Feeling can’t be helped. We just feel. Sometimes that’s enough.”
“I guess I feel like it’s not enough.”
“You feel there’s something you should be doing.”
“Yes.”
“And you don’t know what you should be doing because you don’t know what you’re feeling.”
“Yes, exactly.”
Gudge thought for a moment. “My grandfather was a carver,” he said. “He made masks. Sometimes people came to him and he made masks for them, but often he just made masks. They were strange, beautiful grapi. Old magic. He used to say that he couldn’t say what the wood wanted, but he could carve it.”
Tortoise thought for a moment.
“So you mean I should make something?”
“Maybe. You know what to do. You just haven’t realised it yet.”
“How do you realise something?”
“Mistakes, mostly. Usually your own.”
“You’ve made mistakes?”
Gudge smiled gently. “Sure. Lots of them.”
“Like what?”
“The biggest one was probably thinking that the answer was over there.”
“I’ve been thinking that too. That I should’ve stayed at home.”
“No. No, you did the right thing. Don’t doubt that.”
Tortoise was quiet for a few moments. The two of them contemplated the ocean.
“I’ve been thinking about that man who died,” Tortoise said at last. “The man we shot.”
Something flickered over Gudge’s face. “Yes. Tomas. I’ve been thinking about him too.”
“Why did Molly shoot him?” Tortoise asked.
“Three oaths,” Gudge replied, as if he wanted to say more.
“Alright,” Tortoise said. “But why did we let Molly shoot him?”
Gudge was quiet for a while. He looked out into the distance.
“At sea,” he said finally, “there are some things that have to be done. Not because they’re right. Because they’re necessary.”
Tortoise thought about it.
Gudge gestured. “That’s what I would have said. Back when I was Quartermaster. Now...” He looked at Tortoise. “It’s a good question.”
Tortoise thought about that too.
Gudge tilted his head, listening for a moment.
Tortoise listened. Whatever it was, he couldn’t hear it. The island and the sky seemed, all of a sudden, very large.
They walked back the way they came. At the junction they met Song and Dee coming down the other hill, and the four of them walked back to the huts in the companionable silence of walkers.
Next episode: The Cairn