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Freyn was on the deck, leaning against the cool wood of the railing of the ship, his eyes closed, smiling at the gentle sway of the waters. His aged back ached from the hours he had spent hunched over the exploring party, bandages sore bones and cut skin. His thoughts dwelled too on the one they had lost, and he felt a great twinge of grief.
“He was too young…” he mumbled aloud, and a few heads turned.
Lowering his gaze to the floor, he stretched out his limbs, which gave small comfort. He threw around in his mind the happenings of the day, trying to shake the grey feeling when he thought about that landslide.
‘My warnings ring true…’ he thought to himself.
Even so, the miracle that the rest of the crew had come to rescue them was a marvel to him indeed. Freyn had seen many a man lost on a journey never to be found. Seldom had he heard of a successful rescue, or of one so marvelous. He smiled a little at this, while he tightened his coat about his shoulders and stood up.
‘Let us hope we have better fortune in our search tomorrow, and not have to rely on fortune for the rescue’ he thought.
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