Free Patrick by Stephen R. Lawhead Page A

had been heaved ashore on the waves during the night, making the rocky shingle slippery. Skirting the worst stretches and proceeding with care over the rest, I at last reached a sheer rock wall that had its foundations deep in the sea. The strand on which I had been walking came to an abrupt end. I had no choice but to cross over the top of the headland. Although it cost me considerable time, I retraced my steps until I found a place to climb up without too much difficulty, and so began the ascent.
    My effort was crowned with success; from the high ground the shoreline stretched out below and, a short distance to the east, settlement. A small place, little more than a handful of huts set above the high-tide mark on the edge of a wood, it seemed a very haven to me. What is more, there were three boats on the beach. I hunkered down to watch the dwellings for a while, to see what might be learned.
    When no one appeared, I moved down the hill for a closer look. After a time a woman came out of one of the huts accompanied by a child. They walked to the edge of the water, where the child splashed in the shallow sea while the mother gathered seaweed. When she had collected enough, shecalled the little one to her, and they disappeared into the hut again. No one else appeared after that. So, taking my fate in my hands, I went down.
    Warily I approached the settlement, passing the first huts without rousing any attention. When I came even with the hut in which the woman and child dwelled, I paused and called out in a loud voice, “ Pax vobiscum! ”
    I shouted twice more before I saw the woman’s thin face peering out from the low doorway. As I had no weapons and was obviously a stranger, she eventually came out, advancing hesitantly and looking around to see if I might be accompanied by anyone. I smiled and talked gently to reassure her and, pointing to the boats, made gestures to indicate my wish to be taken up the coast to the nearest port.
    She frowned mightily, shook her head, and jabbered at me in her incomprehensible tongue, then flung her hands at me as if to drive away a bothersome dog. I persisted in trying to make myself understood, but to no avail. Finally she pointed out toward the sea, where a boat was just then making for shore. There were three men in the boat, and the foremost of these leaped out and waded to meet us as soon as the keel touched the shingle.
    A tall, gaunt, weather-beaten son of the sea, he greeted me, presumably—it was difficult to tell from his rough speech—and I repeated my greeting and indicated the boats. Thus, by means of pointing and gestures, I conveyed my wish to be taken to the nearest port. To my immense satisfaction, the ignorant fellow agreed. He called to the others, who were pulling the boat onto the shingle; they stopped at once, and the fisherman beckoned me to follow. They held the boat while I climbed in, then pushed off once more.
    Taking up the oars, the two others applied themselves to rowing while the third man steered, and I sat on the small bench in the center of the craft with my waterskin on my knees. They rowed with solid strokes, proceeding up the coast as soon as we gained deeper water.
    The sea was still somewhat high after the storm of thenight before, but they stood to their work, and we soon rounded the headland to the north of the settlement. There in the distance, beneath the sheltering brow of a high promontory, lay the port.
    With each strong pull of the oars, our destination came nearer. I sat on my bench exulting in my shrewdness and mastery. With the first fair wind, I would be on my way home once more.
    The little seaport was an untidy aggregation of hovels and houses large and small, all of which seemed to encircle the standing stone that marked the center of the town. Despite its diminutive size, the holding boasted a sturdy timber wharf for larger boats and ships; as we came nearer, I was pleased to see that there were two of these tied up