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And it was certainly better than sitting up in the house while Barb-daja and nand’ Toby had a fight, which was just not pleasant at all—embarrassing, to have Antaro and Jegari hearing such an unpleasant thing in nand’ Bren’s family, and maybe even dangerous: one had no idea about that, but he was sure nand’ Bren would take care of it and get it settled.

The situation was, however, changed, down at the harbor: they saw that when they rounded the first turn of the walkway: nand’ Toby’s boat, like nand’ Bren’s, was riding tantalizingly out of reach, both at anchor—Cajeiri knew about anchors, and sailing, and even how the sails worked, all of which he was ready to tell his companions in great detail.

But the staff had moved nand’ Toby’s boat out from the dock, and had not moved nand’ Bren’s boat in. That was extremely disappointing.

So when they reached the wooden dock, they stood there looking at the water, and watching the boats, and the few fishermen far, far across the bay, where the shore grew hazy with distance. There was no activity about the immediate area, just the thin strip of sand somewhat behind the jut of the dock, the rocks, higher up than that, but one long band of rock disappearing right near the water’s edge, and reappearing just off in the water, a rounded knob of rock where the water danced, covering and uncovering it.

Nand’ Toby’s boat was somewhat bigger than nand’ Bren’s boat, but not fancier, Cajeiri thought. Nand’ Bren’s boat, nearest, was very, very fine, with its shining white hull and a line like a breaking wave painted along its side.

The boats rocked to the light movement of the water, which sucked and slapped noisily against the pilings—pilings was a word Cajeiri knew, from reading. Pilings held up the dock, and went down under the water, and when he got down on his knees and looked down, Antaro and Jegari beside him, he saw streamers of weed there, and they wondered together whether one could see any fish. He thought he had, but the others failed to see it, so he was not sure.

There was a little short ladder down from the dock. He and Antaro and Jegari took turns climbing a little down it to look under the dock, risking getting their feet wet, he was sure—the boards of the ladder were a little wetter higher up than the rung they could stand on, showing how high the water could reach. There were, they all concluded, no fish in view.

But all around them were interesting smells that made Cajeiri remember their trip across the straits on nand’ Toby’s boat, and when they all sat on the edge of the dock—it must be an hour by now—and looked at the boats, he told them about his trip, and how Toby’s boat was on the inside, and about the sails.

And they amused themselves seeing how far they could shoot a stone across the harbor, and then they tried trying to hit a particular rock on the curve of the shore, with the abundance of pebbles the shore provided.

But after all this time there was still nobody down from the house to get them closer to the boat.

And one was tired of shooting stones.

There was, however, back along the strip of sand, a small boat dragged up on shore, and it probably belonged to the estate—which meant it was nand’ Bren’s.

And then he had an idea. They probably could sail it out to Toby’s boat and he could show Antaro and Jegari the boat, and when the staff did come down, they could just sail the little boat back to the shore and surprise everybody. They would look very grand and very accomplished on the water, and nand’ Bren would be surprised and relieved they were so competentc which might mean they could get repeated permission to use the boat.

“Come with me,” he said, and ran back along the straight-back part of the dock and back onto the rock, then scampered down the rocks, surefooted as Antaro and Jegari themselves, who had grown up in the forests and the hills. This was all new territory, this sandy stretch—sand was harder to run in, much harder, so he strode along, looking very confident, leading, as a young lord should. He reached the boat, assessed the situation with the sail at a glance, and pulled the rope to raise it to the top of the little mast as if he had done it every day of his life. It blew lazily sideways in the light breeze, sending the boom out over the side, but he took the little rope and tied it to the open place in the trim near the tiller. Then it was safe.

“Is this nand’ Bren’s boat?” Jegari asked. “Nandi, perhaps we should wait.”

“Oh, we shall just sail out a little way.” The tiller was up. The boat was secured by a knot that was easy to pull loose. “Push it out.”

“Are you sure, nandi?” Antaro asked. “Do you know how to manage it? We have never been in a boat.”

“I have,” he said, and went to the stern and moved the tiller the little it would move. “See. This steers it. See the rope there—that pulls on the sail so you can catch the wind. The oars in the bottom are for emergency, to move the boat if there is no wind. The board that sticks up in the bottom of the boat— that goes down into the water when we push off.”



“Nandi, surely we should wait!”

“We shall go out to nand’ Toby’s boat, and when nand’ Bren’s staff comes down, we shall come right back to shore. They will need this boat to get aboard. Come. Push!”

They looked doubtful, but they heaved and pushed until the stern was in the water, and then he got in, and they all got in.

They weighed the boat down, and it only rocked, but they could not rock it off the shore.

“Shove with the oars,” Cajeiri said, picking up one himself, and put it over the side and pushed and shoved until they were out of breath. “No good,” he said. “One of us has to get out and push and then jump in.”

“I will,” Jegari said, and got up to the bow and stepped out and shoved.

Then it went very fast, the board went down, the boom came around, bang! and the boat, tilting a little, began to move off, but Jegari ran and grabbed it, and got aboard, wet to the waist and nearly spilling water into the boat.

That was bad. But Jegari did get aboard. They had dry clothes, but the servants were bringing those down. Meanwhile nobody was steering and Antaro had gotten her oar overside to row, and because of it, they were going around. A stronger breeze caught the sail, and it popped and snapped against the mast, tugging at the rope.

“Take the oar out,” Cajeiri said, settling and tugging at the rope to bring the sail around. Increasingly the tiller was taking hold. “Just sit still, one on a side, and watch out for the boom. It will go back and forth as we go—you have to let it: just duck; and I shall steer with the tiller.”

It was all going much better, except Jegari being wet. He steered, but there was something wrong with the tiller, Cajeiri thought in a little dismay, since he was steering for nand’ Toby’s boat, but they kept going sideways nearly as much as they were going forward.

He steered sharply, and they made it right up alongside nand’ Toby’s boat, and he tried to come in behind it, where there was a ladder, but he ran into a problem, then, and the wind blew them up against Toby’s boat, scraping the hull.

“Get the oars,” he said, “and push off before we scratch the hull.”

They did, and just then they came around the side of the hull to the end and the boom came over, catching Antaro hard in the back, and nearly threw her in. He hauled on the little rope to try to control the boom, but then the wind was in their faces and the boat was coming around.

That was a problem.

Meanwhile Antaro was leaning overside, trying to reach something in the water.

“Keep in the boat, nadi!” Cajeiri cried, making a reach for her, just as Jegari did, all on the same side of the boat, and for a moment he was sure they were going over, but he leaned the other way, and Jegari did, but now they were entirely past nand’ Toby’s boat, so he turned the bow to face it, and the wind blew and they just kept getting farther and farther from the boat.