There were fires burning in the Union camp. Many fires and shouting.

The three men skirted the edge of the camp, using the night and falling snow to hide themselves from any alert eyes. The golden glow of the fires was enough to light their way to the shore, and the snow draped mounds of rowboats in winter storage overturned far away from the water.

So few of the small boats remained; a testament to the number of men who had died trying to escape the island.

Robert gestured for the men to spread out and check the boats. “Look for damage to the hulls,” If he was correct, the Robber King would have damaged all but one boat.

“Hole here,” Anders called softly from a few feet away.

“Here too,” Holm cast a doubtful look at Robert.

A thick layer of snow softened the boat as Robert approached, but not enough to disguise a large hole punched through the wood.

Gently brushing snow away from the damage, Robert motioned, “Keep looking.” There were no tracks, just damage to the boat roughly twice the size of Robert’s hand. How had no one in the camp noticed the noise caused by the destruction?

He moved past Anders to the next boat in the line while considering the question. It was another of those disconcerting points about Coal Island; Robert suspected if he were to question all the men who had been on this end of the island, none of them would confirm hearing the attack on the boats.

Obvious events that should have attracted attention but received little to none seemed to be common here; as if all the people on the island might be blind and deaf.

Private Holm passed Robert, stumbling in the snow, regaining his balance by waving his arms. He hurriedly brushed snow from the next boat. “Hey, I think this one is good.”

Robert and Anders joined Holm, each examining the boat in the weak light. Distant shouts suggested Pace and his men remained occupied.

“No holes,” Anders confirmed.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

“Flip it,” Robert kneeled. “Let’s see if the interior is still good.”

They struggled to break the boat free of the frozen ground, eventually Anders and Holm sitting with their backs to the adjacent boat and pushed at the good boat until it rocked free of the ground and they could right the boat.

An examination of the boat revealed no flaws. Private Holm tried to kick the oars free of the ground as Robert studied the boat’s ribs.

“Check the other boats,” Robert motioned Anders to the last few boats undisturbed. “Quickly please.”

“Sir,” Anders did not question the odd order.

Looking at Holm, Robert stopped the boy’s efforts with a hand on the private’s arm. “You must make the journey now while the lake is placid. Pray the winds and waves do not rise.” He wedged the toe of his boot under an oar and pried up. “The damage to the boats tells me the Robber King will only allow one man to leave. That’s you.”

“You’re wrong.” Holm protested a little loudly.

“No, I’m pretty sure I’m right.”

“The other boats have holes,” Anders helped Robert pull the oar free of the ground.

“You see, Private?” Robert waved politely. “One boat, one man.”

The oar snapped free.

“You must take our story beyond this island,” Robert handed the oar to Holm. “Do what you can to keep people from this island and, for all that is holy in this world, never return to this place. Tell the officers you find we are dead of calamity and starvation. Do you understand?”

“I can ask them to send a ship,” Holm protested.

“And give the beast a ride to shore?” Corporal Anders gave Holm a gentle but steady shove towards shore.

“We die.” Robert pulled the boat and was helped by Anders. “It ends here.”

“Yes, Sir.” The Corporal agreed heartily.

The men moved the boat out on to the ice that ringed the island, for the moment a few yards of weak ice. It would soon turn to thick sheets of ice as winter truly claimed the northland.

“Get in,” Anders motioned to Holm.

The Private climbed clumsily into the boat, the oars rattling against the hull. Holm caught the oars and held them close as he looked towards the camp with a frightened look.

They pushed the boat further into the waters of the lake and off the rocky bed. All the men looked toward the Union camp.

Eventually, Robert shook his head in dismay, then pushed the boat away from the island until it floated free. He raised his hand in farewell. “Go with God Private Holm.”

The boat drifted away from the shore, men and boat becoming shadowy figures, unwilling to move and break the spell that forestalled the future. Private Holm fixed the oars in their locks and slowly rowed away.

When he was certain Holm had escaped the island, Robert nodded to himself and walked out of the cold water. It really was in God’s hands now; either Holm lived or died, there was nothing Robert could do to alter whatever fate was in store for the young man.

Corporal Anders was lost in thought as well. Robert waited until Anders looked up sheepishly. “Sorry Sir.”

“That’s fine,” Robert replied with a sad smile. “I feel the same way. Shall we go see what all the shouting is about?”