Separation

The ascent was difficult. The slime and moss that covered the scree was soft and slippery underfoot, making it hard to get a grip on the rocks. And the small stones that lay beneath the slime were apt to fall away suddenly in showers of gravel that covered those following and made a foothold all the harder. Both Markos and Sineta took the slope virtually on all fours, testing each hold as they went, despite the shallow angle. It was the only way that they could insure a safe grip. It took them nearly half an hour to reach the top of the rocks, during which time they were virtually defenseless should there be an attack from above. The sec men on the boats, and Ryan and J.B. with their longer range blasters, provided the possibility of covering fire. However, at that distance, it would be hard to provide an effective defense, even though the bare rock-slate peninsula offered little cover of its own and would make an attacking force of any kind an open target in its own right.

When Markos and Sineta attained the flat of the rock, they lay panting.

“If it is this hard for us, then how will the animals and the old cope?” the baron gasped eventually.

“As with all endeavor—because they have to,” Markos replied when he had caught his breath. As he spoke, they were joined by the next wave of Pilatans from the first boat. These carried ropes coiled around them. Markos allowed them only a short while to recover before instructing them to proceed with the plans they had been given.

The Pilatans threw the ropes down to the rocks below, past another wave of ascending men and women. The older, more infirm Pilatans were being assisted by those who were stronger, and at times the ascent was reduced to a crawl—but still it continued, never actually grinding to a halt.

At the bottom of the scree, there were those who had helped to unload crates and packages from the boat.

They waited patiently, then took the proffered ropes and attached them securely to the crates. Each one had been designed and packed specifically so that it would be of a suitable weight for what next occurred. While the man down with the crate pushed from behind, grasping the tied rope firmly as he pushed, the man above pulled and acted as an anchor, taking the strain of the crate’s weight and also acting as a counterweight for the man behind the crate, lest he should slip. Depending on the comparative strengths of the two men, it actually speeded up the process of ascent.

When the first boat was empty, it was turned by the last seaman aboard, the tiller tied so that it headed out toward the sheer cliff face, away from the semicircle of companion craft. The seaman left his boat, letting it scupper itself on the rocks and leaving a gap where the next boat in line could come in to land its crew and cargo. The loss of the boats was regrettable, as they had taken such resources to put together. But they were now of little use, and to leave them as empty and soon to be rotting hulks would only make it harder for the other craft to maneuver into shore.

Up on the smooth surface of the peninsula’s rock bridge, there were now enough Pilatans for Markos to form a sec patrol that ventured to the point where the rock ran seamlessly into the green of the mainland, establishing a bridgehead that would enable the landings to continue with a greater sense of security.

Mildred, Krysty and Jak were on the next vessel to land. Descending from the boat into the shallow water, and feeling the cold drag at their feet, they were surprised at how hard the climb truly was. The angle might have been shallow, but the shale, moss and slime made it treacherous. Jak ascended the quickest, as surefooted as ever over the surface, barely seeming to touch it as his hands and feet found secure holds where it seemed none could exist. When he reached the top, he took one of the lengths of rope that was now lying idle—there being no crates to be hauled up as yet—and threw it down.

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