It was Madden who saw the Citans first upon the point, he indicated his finding to Gisburn who looked up anxiously and muttered, “What can they want? Why would they be here, Madden?”
“I don't know, Gisburn,” Madden replied. Although Fern couldn't see his face because his back was to her, she could sense that he was grimly considering the question.
“Keep quiet and as close to the shoreline as possible. I don't want them to see us.” Madden's back had stiffened as he spoke. “Hopefully, we will blend in with the shoreline. Row faster Gisburn!”
Fern looked upon the two hunched figures as they hauled on their respective oars, the veins in their arms snaking down with each pull. She looked up to the point; she could see the Citans but couldn’t tell what they were doing. They were all sat down, resting…waiting? She wasn't sure. Madden and Gisburn were fighting with the movement of the water as they strove to reach the point that they needed to get around. They stopped pulling when the airship came down from the sky. She knew that Madden and Gisburn's jaws must have dropped in surprise because their oars lowered and their heads tilted back slightly as they stared. The Citans were all standing now as the airship slowly descended to them.
“Pull Gisburn, pull!” cried Madden now fearful and Fern sensed that if seen they could be in danger. Perhaps their fear stemmed from a past disagreement with the Citans and Aviatilians, she wasn't sure but she was sure that Madden was desperate to get out of their sight. Gisburn tried to haul faster but all he managed to do was put them out of sync and Madden became angry.
“You idiot! In time with me! Now pull! Pull!” His breathing was heavy as they took huge strokes to get them to the end of the point. Both boys hauled on each large oar in their hands and swiftly they made progress to get around the point.
Fern looked up to see the Citans disappearing into the airship. Suddenly her breath caught in her mouth. She saw him–Oak. How could she not recognize him? Everything about him was in her mind as permanent as the copper etchings she’d seen in the art books. He stood with the Citans holding onto a figure, one of his defenders. Only one reason came to mind for his need to hold a defender, it meant he was injured. What terrible thing had happened for one of them to be hurt and both of them to be caught?
She now saw the huge Citan leader, his presence still strong and controlling, dominating even amongst the other large Citans. His was looking toward the trees searching; turning he looked at Oak and then both of them spun around and were staring at her. She felt her heart cry out to Oak. I'm sorry! Oak I am so sorry! Too late, they were gone and the boat was pulling away past the point and Oak was no longer there for her eyes to see. He was gone from her, just as she herself had declared not so long ago that he was gone from her heart. But could her mind dispel his image? He had after all been the only person that had held a role of importance in her life. Could her heart and head ever truly let go?
Staring at the back of Madden she wondered what was in store for her now. She was on her own and her only protection was to have her wits about her, to be ready for the challenges ahead and be prepared to displace herself temporarily from her body to cope. Her stomach tightened and her mouth became dry at the thought.
She hadn’t been the type to dream of romantic encounters, imagining herself having exposed soft silky shoulders, receiving light tremulous kisses or the caresses of gentle fingers. Her thoughts of love had not been of kisses and racing hearts but standing equal with Oak, having his respect, his admiration, his companionship. All she’d ever wanted was his words of congratulations, a look that showed he was impressed by her, or that he shared an idea with her, asked her opinion. She didn't need him to look at her as if he were going to devour her like these Lakellers did; she wasn't sure how she would respond if he looked at her like that. She’d noticed lately, how differently her body behaved when he was around, the heat she would feel at the nearness of him, but she’d dispelled that as not being well. Probably nothing more than the onset of her dreaded monthly bleed, she never felt right at that time. Her mind became confused by things and her body was uncomfortable with swelled breasts and belly. It was annoying that girls had to suffer such a distraction every month.
This she felt was another reason why she should become a defender, to prove that females were not just vessels for children. How many times had she argued with Oak on the subject of female defenders, she knew there were some girls who wanted to learn to fight and protect. She wasn't the only one; she was just the most vocal. It didn't matter, she would never see Oak again and love wasn't going to be a part of her life. She was going to survive and that was all that mattered. She would be strong, she would watch, learn and find a way–a way to what? Save Oak? No, that was no longer a viable objective. She had to find a way to escape and return to her clan, scathed or unscathed, she was determined she would be going home.
Madden turned toward her now and a smile spread across his features. She thought he was smiling at her and scowled back but realized he was not paying her any attention, so she turned around. Her jaw dropped as she stared at the ship they were approaching. She sat waiting like a large grey thundercloud hovering over the rain. Fern’s heart and resolve faltered, she felt her panic rise, as she gulped at the air that she was having difficulty swallowing. Madden was looking at her now with a wicked grin upon his face.
“Now my pretty Fern, we find out just how much you are worth.”
Fern glanced away from his avaricious gaze to the expansive water, and then toward the land they’d left behind. She wondered if she would see this land again or was she now only to live upon this floating metal cage? Would her feet set foot on her beloved clan's soil? Would she ever run through Elanclose again?
**********
Oak couldn’t believe the despair he felt when he saw the boat and knew that Fern had been captured by Lakellers who had clear intents to do her wrong. His dismay was all the more acute because he was here but unable to do anything to save her since he too was a captive. His anger surged at the thought that once again she had disobeyed him and because of it she was in danger.
Staring bleakly at the place where the boat had vanished he tried to collect his thoughts into some kind of order. Order, he needed order, he needed structure. His gaze went to Denver who was staring at him in surprise. Denver, knew of course all the emotions that were surging through his body, uncontrolled, so very easy to read. Breaking away from Denver's gaze he looked up to the airship. He needed to dissect the part of him that was in turmoil about Fern's fate. He had to be practical; there was nothing he could do. His concentration should be on what he and Blackthorn were facing and how they were going to escape. Only then could he think of a rescue plan for Fern, if, by then, it was not too late.
Nearly everyone was inside the airship now and Flint was looking at Blackthorn and himself. He didn't say anything, he didn't need to. They were to board the ship. He knew that Flint was uneasy about getting onto the airship, not because of the ship itself but because he didn’t trust the Aviatilians. Denver was beside them now, he too was silent.
Carefully helping Blackthorn toward the dirigible, Oak shouldered him onto the ramp. Blackthorn's face showed concern, he was wondering what would happen once on board the airship. Oak just smiled in encouragement and gently guided him up the ramp. He looked up to the waiting figures and wondered what the Aviatilians were like, he would soon know.
On the lip of the open doorway one of the Aviatilians was stretching a hand to Blackthorn pulling him in. He helped him away from the edge as Denver followed. Oak peered around taking in the open cargo area, noting crates and boxes piled on either side of them all strapped down to the floor, secure so they would not move no matter what forces hit the airship.
The Aviatilian stood before them so Oak nodded thanks to him, noting his small bulk and short height. His hair was red, curly, cut close to his head so it corkscrewed upwards and twirled inwards like fiddleheads, his skin was pale with a few freckles. He turned his eyes away from him. There was only one other person he knew with red hair and he couldn’t think of her right now. Perhaps he would allow himself to remember tonight before he went to sleep. Perhaps he wouldn't even allow himself that.
Turning to the group, since Denver had now joined Oak and Blackthorn, the Aviatilian gave them a bright smile as his hand pressed a button and the ramp slowly began to rise.
“Welcome!” he said, “To the Avila Rose. The only airship we know of in the sky and the largest airship ever built,” he continued with pride.
Oak stared back at him in surprise at his jovial manner, he noticed that Denver did too and realized they’d both been expecting a much less friendly greeting.
“Thank you,” Denver replied. “The Woodlanders are my captives. I want them to be close to me at all times. Can you see that they are?”
He gave a huge beaming smile again. “Yes of course I can. I’m Radcliffe by the way.”
He stepped forward eagerly offering Denver his hand, which Denver gave a quick shake and said, “Denver.”
“Pleased to meet you Denver!” he turned with his hand outstretched to Flint.
“Flint,” he returned, whilst his hand was also heartily moved up and down.
Oak leaned forward and gave Radcliffe his hand keeping with the spirit of the occasion.
“Oak.” He motioned toward Blackthorn, “my friend here is injured and he needs a place to rest.”
Radcliffe who was still enthusiastically shaking Oak's hand released it and quickly turned to Blackthorn. As he grasped his hand he looked at his face taking in the pained expression as Blackthorn muttered, “I’m Blackthorn.” His voice was small and tired as he continued, “I need to sit, please.”
Still holding onto his hand he studied him for a while longer and then with a look of disquiet Radcliffe offered, “Do you need me to aid you? I can take you to where the bunks are and you can lie down there.” He turned back to the rest of the group, “If Denver will allow you to be out of his presence?”
“Of course, in his condition he won’t be making any effort to escape.” Denver gazed at the unhealthy body before him.
Blackthorn looked at Oak unsure as to whether he should stay with him or go and sleep. Oak was already letting go of Blackthorn and encouraging Radcliffe to take him.
“Yes, that would be a very good idea. Thank you!” Oak replied nodding to Radcliffe in agreement. Radcliffe attentively slipped an arm around Blackthorn.
Taking most of Blackthorn's weight so that he was tilted like the Leaning Tower of Pisa and with his other free hand Radcliffe pointed to a nearby door. “Go through the door along the corridor past all the closed doors to the lounge. There is an opening to a large dining area; you will find the rest of your companions in there.”
“Thank you!” responded Denver who quickly strode ahead of Oak. He walked through the mentioned door as Oak followed with Flint on his heels.
Once through they were walking on a carpeted corridor with doors on either side. Eventually they came to the huge doorway Radcliffe had told them of. It led into an expansive room of benches and tables and was brightly lit by many windows. They could hear laughter from the Citans. Oak wondered what they could have to laugh at but he couldn't see because Denver's expansive body was in the way and his internal vision was only of many bodies huddled together.
When he was amidst the group he was surprised to find that they were being entertained by a short, stocky, sandy haired Aviatilian, who was performing card tricks on a table that they were all gathered around. He exchanged a glance with Denver who seemed equally astonished and confused as to what was happening. The boys’ laughter erupted again as they stepped back and one of them gave the Aviatilian a slap on the back whilst saying, “I have no idea how you did that but it was cleverly done!”
“Then you have to see this trick,” replied the Aviatilian gathering them around him once more.
Denver indicated to a table at the window and Oak went with him and sat down, both of them in a position to watch the proceedings. Oak was already making a mental note of who was there and who wasn’t. One person was missing, Rancor. Flint looked as if he were trying to decide whether he should join them. He watched Denver give a signal for him to stay put and Flint gladly sat at a table by himself as he often liked to be, a lone entity.
Looking out of the large windows, they were given a magnificent view across the lake. Oak unwillingly searched the ripples below. He was trying to find the boat containing the two Lakellers and Fern. He knew Denver could sense his emotional turmoil, especially when he espied the ship. Oak stared at the massive, morbid, metallic freighter and the land behind; both were receding into the distance. The vessel sat still on the water just past the point they had seen the small boat disappear. They both knew that this was the ship the trio had been heading toward and were now on board. Oak memorized it; he planned to rescue Fern when he got the chance.
“You're right; she's probably on board the ship by now.” Denver ventured as Oak slowly brought his gaze to his. “The Lakellers have taken her. They've done it before, taken girls.” His glance swayed to the ship and back to Oak. “They took Rachel, a beautiful, brunette from our city, we never saw her again.”
His eyes dropped for a moment in respect. “We’ve been told that girls have gone missing elsewhere, always attractive ones. They only take the pretty ones. Where they go I don't know but I do know the Lakellers are untrustworthy and mean.”
His eyes strayed back to the lake as Oak's spirits dropped like the breakers on the water below at the words he’d heard. He knew Denver could sense his thoughts but cared little at this moment. He wondered if he would see Fern again.
“You have no idea what became of Rachel?”
Denver returned his gaze his eyes showing his knowledge of Oak's feelings.
“No, we assumed the worst.” Denver gave Oak a sympathetic glance and then continued to look out of the window.
“She's important to you isn't she?” Oak was startled by Denver's statement. He stared solidly silent for a moment as Denver continued to gaze across the water. He faltered becoming perplexed as to whether he should continue this personal conversation and sensed Denver patiently waiting before turning to look him.
Oak relented. “I saved her after the Devastation.” He looked away for a moment rallying his self control. “She was eleven at the time, I was twelve; we grew up together and became family. She's like a sister.”
Denver raised his eyebrows but said nothing, so Oak chose to ignore the look.
“So what happens now?” He felt Denver's surprise at his sudden familiarity and acceptance of there being no other option but to be open with him.
“I don't know. We go along with Rancor and see where the airship takes us.”
Oak nodded back and turned to gaze out of the window again. Denver did the same. Oak closed off to him and he felt Denver follow his lead. A sense of relief wafted over him as he welcomed the silence between them and a chance to go over his own thoughts.
He thought of his clan, his defenders and what was happening to them. He thought of Elm. He knew he would be trying to enforce some plan to become leader now that Oak was no longer there. He hoped that his defenders were astute enough to know and tackle him on his vie for power. Who would lead them now? He had no doubt it would be Pine, he was strong sensible self-assured, he was the best person to take care of the clan until his return. That was if he ever returned.
It was strange that only a few days ago he had thought of Willow as his lifetime companion. Such thoughts were to be vanquished now; the survival of Blackthorn was his only compunction for now. The young defender had stepped into this maelstrom because of Oak and Oak would do his best to keep him alive and get him back home.
Going through his thoughts he segregated his concerns to one side of his brain and structured his plans into a list of three on the other. Number one: to keep Blackthorn alive and aid his recovery from his injuries. Number two: to escape from their kidnappers and save Fern. Number three: to return to the clan.
He was uncertain about his second and third plans since they could deviate in different directions. Should he escape or join forces with Denver to defeat Rancor and his leader? Whether he joined or not, returning to the clan would still be their goal unless they died. If they aided Denver and survived, should he send Blackthorn back to the clan and then search for Fern or have Blackthorn with him and search for Fern? Everything was becoming too complicated. He would stick to one thing at a time.
Sub-categorizing his plans in his mind he went back to number one. Blackthorn needed rest so he would encourage it as much as possible. He would check his wound again when he awoke. He would also talk to the Aviatilians to ask for a bandage, after which he would clean the wound and distribute the leaves upon it and redress it. His calculations for healing were two days at most with rest. The travelling that Blackthorn had been forced to do had delayed the healing process.
Content that he had his thoughts under control he felt more able to relax and sat back in his seat. Denver was smiling at him.
“You sure have a busy mind Oak. I don't know how you sort through it all.”
Oak was disturbed by his words he’d felt sure he’d closed his mind off to him or had the sensation only been Denver closing his thoughts off to him. How foolish of him to leave his thoughts open. He immediately raised his barricade his face becoming tight as he clenched his jaw in reproach at his lack of discipline.
“Don't worry Oak. With all the confusion in there I was able to retrieve little of your plans. It’s obvious that your concerns are with Blackthorn, that anyone can see and escape would be another major directive. It doesn't take the gift of mind reading to figure that out.”
Oak gave a small smile. He liked Denver even though he distrusted him; he had a winning way about him. No doubt that is how he’d managed to become leader. Still, it made sense for Oak to remain wary, persuasion was just another form of manipulation and Denver was no fool; he would use everything possible that would benefit himself and his band.
Since Denver was being more lax in the captive/captor situation, Oak saw no reason why he couldn’t benefit from it too.
“So, Denver was there someone special that you left behind?”
Denver raised an eyebrow in amusement at the familiar question. “No Oak, there was no one and you? Did you leave someone special behind?”
“Yes, I left someone special.” His eyes were brighter as he eyed Denver and he knew thoughts of Fern were tinkering through Denver's mind.
“No, I’m not talking about the girl in the boat,” he continued to allay Denver's concerns that Oak would perhaps become desperate to escape and save her.
“The girl I talk of is safe with my clan.” He watched Denver's eyebrows rise even higher and felt a spark of annoyance.
“There are two girls in your life?” Denver's smile was broad as he rubbed his chin to hide his amusement. “You have your hands full Oak!”
“Fern is not a girl in my life as you put it. We have a history together and as a member of my clan I am responsible for her. There are no other emotions involved here.”
“Tell yourself that Oak and perhaps one day you'll believe it.” Denver only grinned in amusement at the glare Oak gave him and even gave a small chuckle.
“I’m glad to be of humour to you Denver in this situation where there is little to be amused about.”
He expected Denver to become serious at his words as they brought him back to their present situation but he didn't, instead he received a gust of a laugh as Denver continued to grin.
“Oak, no matter what life throws at you having a sense of humour can get you through it all. Humour is one of the best gifts around. I'm sorry you have been deprived of it.”
Oak was shocked. What was there to be amused at when you were a leader maintaining order and the survival of your clan? He watched Denver chuckle more and felt nettled by it.
“I can assure you that I enjoy humour in the correct setting. I am rigid in my beliefs because they help me to be a better leader. Discipline is everything.”
“Indeed?”
“Without discipline only chaos can ensue.”
“So your life is disciplined in what way Oak? Do you live your life by rules and regulations that cannot be changed?”
“Rules and regulations are there for a reason. They create stability and structure. If they are changed it would be like trying to replace part of a stone foundation. Taking it out would leave the structure very precarious.”
“I see. What if the stone foundation was removed and replaced with steel there would still be stability wouldn't there?”
“Yes once the replacement was made but during the interval in between it would be chaotic and chaos causes weakness.”
“So, you’re saying there is no room for weakness?”
“Yes, if it interferes with something that works well enough.”
“It sounds very regimented to me Oak. Is that important to you?”
“If I’m to guide my clan it is necessary.”
“But Oak these are not guidelines, guidelines can be changed, you say there can be no change.”
“Change can cause confusion it is best to go with routine. Routine is comfortable.”
“By restricting your clan to a routine aren’t you leaving them without choices?”
“If they wanted choices they would ask. However they don’t need choices because they have everything they need. They know what their lives are about and therefore live without worry.”
“Interesting. No-one ever questions the rules?”
“No no-one.” Oak paused, “only two people question my rules.”
“Only two? Perhaps they’re the only people that have strong enough characters to question your rules?”
“No. One doesn’t openly question me he revolts against me in an underhand way. He only seeks control.”
“But the other he is open and questions you outright?”
“The other person is not a boy but a girl.”
Oak didn’t need to look at Denver to know that his face was alight with curiosity.
“A girl questions you? She must be quite a personality; I would like to meet her.”
Oak stared across the water, with bitter words he replied, “You can’t she is now on board the ship of the Lakellers.”
“Oh!”
Oak looked up to see many conclusions pass across Denver's face and he didn't like any of them.
“That is why you won’t confess to your real feelings for her because she stands up to you and will not be controlled.”
“She is foolish and disobedient. She should realize that I give her orders to keep her safe. They are in her best interest.”
“She doesn't want to look out for her best interest. She looks to other things as more important than herself just as you do. So why is it she’s wrong and you’re right?”
“I’m her leader. I know what is right and I enforce it to protect.”
“Isn't that what the military said when we were all to keep to the orders of the day upon our screens?”
Oak looked at Denver in surprise. “Are you saying I’m enforcing a military regime upon my clan?”
“When only you have say and control you’re enforcing a dictatorship upon them.”
“My defenders have a say.”
“Then you have a military regime.”
Oak's emotions were rising. How could Denver state that his clan were living no different than they had before the Devastation?
“You know nothing of how my clan live.”
“I know that you have a regime and we all lived in a regime originally.”
“What we have built is not a regime. It is a safe environment of happy people. Everyone is happy.”
“Except for two.”
“They are the exception. No one else questions their lives.”
“Perhaps they do and just don’t say. Do you ever give them a chance to express their opinions? Do you ever ask them how they feel?”
“No, but there is no need to ask. I know they are all content.”
“They are not all content. Two of your clan oppose your rules.”
Oak grated his teeth together and stopped immediately when he realized what he was doing. “One does it to seek control and the other... she does it to be difficult.”
“Oh! She’s just difficult. She has no other reasons?”
“I don't know I haven’t asked.”
“You haven't asked. Don't you think as a leader that you should ask?”
“I don't need to ask. I feel I can sense what goes on.”
“I think perhaps you sense what you want to sense.”
“That is ridiculous!”
“Is it? My grandparents were both psychiatrists. I learnt a lot from them about human behaviour. Their assessment of you would be obsessive compulsive.”
“I don't know what obsessive compulsive is but I’m sure that it isn’t a compliment.” He gave Denver a hard stare in the hope that he would feel uncomfortable by it and stop the conversation. Denver sped on.
“Obsessive compulsive has different levels; in a high level it isn’t conducive to a normal life but it can in small levels bring about determination which is a good thing. Tenacity eventually makes things happen and encourages results. However, not allowing change can cause problems.” He paused, “change can be for the better.”
“Our clan doesn't need change. We get along very well, everything is perfect.”
“There is no such thing as perfection, especially when so many are involved. As you have already found out with the two who present themselves as an obstruction, the two that cause you grief.”
“I will control them both. They’ll no longer be a problem.”
“You will control them?”
Oak reflected on the words that Denver had repeated and wondered at himself for having said them. He wasn’t their master he was their leader, their beloved leader they called him, they weren’t his pets or his underlings.
“I’m incorrect, I don't control them. I do however try to persuade them to abide by the rules.”
“Persuasion? Is that what you really use Oak or are you trying to alleviate your fears of being a dictator by fooling yourself into believing something else? Just as you’re trying to fool yourself into believing that you’re not in love with the girl who was kidnapped.”
“I am not in love with her!” Oak felt a seething rage, rising rebelliously within him. His self control was failing and once more it involved Fern. The heat of anger thrust itself up into his chest and he leaned forward to Denver, his voice suddenly gritty. “She is a member of my clan and nothing more! She causes me concern because she is a danger to herself!”
“And you, since you were her saviour once, must be her saviour forever?”
“No! I will be forfeiting that role to someone else quite gladly.”
“Does she know this?”
“Yes, I’ve told her.”
“And do you have someone already in mind? Is it to be an arrangement?”
“No, there is no arrangement. She will make the choice.”
“I believe she already has made her choice. Her choice is you!”