Chapter 82: Shit! I can’t swim

Chapter 82: Chapter 82: Shit! I can’t swim

Victor ran for the river bank, then skidded to a stop with his toes at the edge.

I can’t swim.

The thought hit him like cold water. In the real world, he’d been as round as an air balloon his entire life. For most of which he’d been glued to games and manga and anime. He’d never once gone near a pool. His mother had tried to enroll him in swimming lessons when she was alive, but that was like a LONG lifetime ago. And this river wasn’t shallow.

Out in the dark water, ripples were already fading. The stone was dragging Coco down. He could see it.

If he jumped, he might die too. If he didn’t, she definitely would.

There was no one around to help, and even if there was, Victor calculated that no one would want to help Coco after she’d been tagged a spiritualist.

Then an idea took root in his mind.

He turned and screamed "HELP ME!" with the War Cry of the Chief skill, the sound rolling across the village like thunder. Then he took a few steps back, sucked in a lungful of air, and leapt.

The cold water swallowed him. Everything went slow and heavy. He kicked blindly in the dark until his hand closed around an arm. Coco. He pulled her close and pulled the ceremonial axe from his inventory. He traced her body—blindly—to her legs, sawing at the rope around her ankle with the edge.

The water fought every stroke. He tried again, and again, and again, his lungs already burning, until the cord finally cut.

Free at last.

He wrapped an arm around her and tried to kick for the surface.

But... Nothing.

His body didn’t know how to swim.

And thus, he thrashed, sinking, the light above shrinking. His chest locked, his throat clamped shut, and the thought came, clear and quiet.

Is this it? Did I just risk my life for nothing? Was I a fool?

Then... Something plunged into the water beside him.

Strong arms hauled him up by the chest. Then they went back for Coco. A moment later they were all on the bank, Victor on his hands and knees, retching river water, Kiki breathing hard beside him.

"That... was... foolish, Chief," she said.

Victor sucked in air, wiped his face, and pushed himself up. "For one of my own tribe," he rasped, "I’ll be that foolish."

Victor did not know this, but his words shook her. It was usually the village that would die for the chief who was the representation of their ancestors will.

Victor crawled to Coco. He didn’t truly know what he was doing. But he’d seen them do it on TV several times. He pressed his palms into her chest and pumped, then breathed into her mouth.

That last actuon caught Kiki off guard. She stared, eyes wide.

Victor continued, pressing against Coco’s chest, and then pumping air into her mouth.

A few barbarians had run over and stood frozen, watching.

Coco convulsed, coughed up a stream of water, and gasped. Her eyes cracked open and found him.

"Chief..."

Her eyes filled with tears, and she broke down, sobbing.

Victor didn’t understand why. He looked up at Kiki for help, but she only snorted, her face tightened with anger, and she turned... walking away.

Victor had no idea what he’d done wrong.

Jaja watched her go and sighed. "We’ll be waiting at your tent." He walked off. A few others followed. Lego lingered, caught Victor’s eye, then left too.

Foto saw this, and her fist tightened before she walked away. Popo merely looked in the direction Foto left, before leaving in the opposite.

Victor stayed, pulling Coco against him and letting her cry.

"You should have let me die," she whispered into his chest. "I’m an abomination... Heresy. You should have let me die. The ancestors hate me, let me go to them."

"No," Victor said quietly. "If you really wanted to go back to the ancestors, then fine." He thought hard, "Just take me with you next time."

The words shook something in her. She couldn’t help it—crying harder, burying her face against him.

Minutes later, Victor laid Coco on the furs in his tent and stepped out to meet the others.

They sat in a circle around a heap of sand in the center. Lego had shaped it into a model of the land: the hills, the forest, the village, the ground between. Jaja nodded as Victor approached. Lego bowed his head respectfully.

Kiki glanced at him and looked away.

Victor still couldn’t figure out what he’d done to her. Was it because he’d dived in for Coco? What was he supposed to do, let her drown? He knew they despised Spiritualists, but this was excessive, especially since Kiki had agreed not to kill her. And if she was this angry, why had she jumped in to save her?

Across the circle, Jaja leaned toward Lego and whispered, "Our chief is very dumb to the ways of women."

Lego nodded gravely. "Very, very dumb."

Victor turned to Lego. "Lego."

"Yes, Chief." Lego straightened and shifted closer to the sand model, a stick in his hand. "Let me show you what the brothers saw."

He pressed the stick into the far edge of the sand, past the model hills. "Here is where the torches were. They are a day, at most two, from this ridge line. Between a hundred and two hundred, as I said. They aren’t marching in a straight line. They’re spread out in columns."

He dragged the stick along the sand. "From the lay of the land, they have two ways in. The first is through the open grassland to the north. It’s flat, fast, and good for their mounts. The second is through the forest pass to the east, where the oil trees were. Slower, but it hides their numbers."

Jaja grunted. "They’ll take the grassland. My father told me stories of them. Orcs hate trees. They can’t ride in them."

"Agreed." Lego nodded. "Which means they reach the village from the north, here." He tapped the sand. "That’s where the trenches are, the ring we dug. They deep enough to break a charge. We lined the bottoms with sharpened stakes, the timbers the brothers carved. Where the forest meets the grassland, we buried barrels of tree oil under shallow dirt, with dry brush above. One flaming arrow, and the whole stretch will... burn."