Chapter 8 Chapter 8: Children of the Open Sea

Near noon, the sparrowhawk moved and asked for water.After drinking the water, he asked, "Where are we sailing?" He asked because the sails above his head were fully inflated, and the ship was like a swallow, flying above the long waves. "West, or northwest." "I feel cold," said Sparrowhawk.But the sun was shining, and it was very hot on board. Arren said nothing. "Try to keep heading west, to the Isle of Willagie, which is just west of Oberhou, and to disembark there, we need water." The boy looked ahead, at the empty sea. "Arren, what's the matter with you?"

He didn't say anything. Sparrowhawk tried to sit up, but couldn't; tried to reach for the wizard's staff beside the gear box, but couldn't; tried to speak, but the words stopped on dry lips.From under the wet and hardened bandages, blood gushed out again, forming a red web like spider's silk on the dark skin of his chest.He breathed hard and closed his eyes. Arren looked at him, feeling nothing.But he didn't look at it for a long time, and went straight forward, returned to the bow and squatted, staring ahead.His mouth was dry, too, and the steady easterly wind from the open sea was as dry as the desert wind.There were only two or three pints of water left in the bucket, and in Arren's mind, that water was for Sparrowhawk, not himself, and it never occurred to him to drink it.He had cast his line, for after leaving Lobanari he had learned that raw fish quenched thirst and hunger.But the fishing line has never been hooked.It doesn't matter.

Ships sail across the barren waters.Over the ship, the sun is also traveling from east to west. Although the speed is slow, the sun won the game and crossed the vast sky first to reach the horizon. Arren caught a glimpse of something tall and blue to the south, and thought it might be land or cloud.At that time, the ship had been heading slightly northwest for several hours, and he didn't want to take the trouble to turn around, so he just let the ship continue to move forward.That piece of land may or may not be real, it doesn't matter.For him now, the wind, the light, the ocean, all majestic splendor, are obscurity and falsehood.

When darkness comes, it turns to light again; when it becomes dark again, light appears again—as if drums are beating on the taut canvas of the sky, so regular. He stretched out his hand into the sea water from the cabin, and immediately saw a vivid scene: under the flowing sea water, his hand turned pale green.He withdrew his hand and licked the wet part of his fingers.It didn't matter that it didn't taste good, and it made his lips sting deeply, but he did it all over again.But after licking, I felt uncomfortable and had to lie down and vomit. Fortunately, I only vomited a little bile that burned my throat.There was no water for Sparrowhawk to drink, and I was afraid to come near him.Arren lay down, shivering despite the heat.All around was still, dry, bright: eerily bright.He covers his eyes to block the light.

There were three people standing in the boat.Thin as twigs, bony and gray-eyed, they resemble strange dark herons or cranes.Their voices were small, chirping like birds, and they spoke words Arren could not understand.One of them held a dark pouch on his arm, and it was pouring over Arren's mouth. It was water, and Arren drank thirstily, choked, and then drank again, until the pouch was empty. until.At this time, he turned his head to look around, and struggled to stand up, and at the same time said: "Where is he? Where is he?" Because, in "Zhanyuan" with him, only these three strange thin men .

They looked at Arren in bewilderment. "The other person," he said hoarsely, his dry throat and dry lips were hard to say what he wanted to say, "it's my friend—" One of them, if not understanding his words, at least understood his anxiety, put a thin hand on Arren's arm, and pointed with the other. "Over there." He reassured. Arren looked around, and saw rafts gathered forward and to the north of the ship, and beyond the sea there were rows and rows of rafts as numerous as leaves floating on a pond in autumn.In the center of each floating raft is one or two sheds like log cabins or huts, low near the water.And some floating rafts have also added masts.They float like leaves, and the sea in the west rises and falls, and these floating rafts rise and fall accordingly.In the lanes formed between the rafts, the water shone silver; and above them, lavender and gold rain clouds loomed, darkening the western sky.

"Over there." The man said, pointing to a large floating raft next to "Zhanyuan". "Alive?" They all stared at Arren, and at last one understood: "He's alive, he's alive." Arren sobbed, a dry weep without tears.One stretched out a small but powerful hand, took Arren's wrist, and led him away from the Far, onto the raft where the Far was moored.This floating raft is very large and has good buoyancy. Even with the weight of several people, it doesn't have much water.The man led Arren across the raft, while another took a long hook and drew a neighboring raft closer.At the end of the long hook was a long curved hook made from the teeth of a whale shark.When the raft drew closer, Arren and his men could step across.The man led Arren to a shelter or hut-like place with one wall open and the other closed with a braided curtain. "Lie down," the man said.Arren knew nothing of what happened after he lay down.

He was lying flat on his back, his eyes fixed on a rough green ceiling with many small points of light.He thought he was in the apple orchard of Seymerman, which was the summer residence of the princes and nobles of Enlad Island, on the slope of the back mountain of Berilla.He thought he was lying in the thick grass of Summerman, looking up at the sunlight between the branches of the apple trees. After a while, he heard the sound of sea water beating and squeezing in the void under the raft, and he also heard the small voices of the raft people talking. They spoke the common Hittish language of the archipelago, but the tone and rhythm changed a lot, so It's hard to understand.And so Arren knew where he was: beyond the Archipelago, beyond the Reach, beyond all the Isles, lost on the open sea.However, he was not worried, and lay down comfortably, as if lying on the grass in his own orchard.

He thought for a while, and when he thought it was time to get up, he got up.I found that I was much thinner and looked burnt.Although the legs are unstable, they can still stand.He parted the braided curtain that served as a wall, and stepped out into the afternoon. It rained while he was sleeping, and the wood of the raft turned black from being wet; the skinny and half-naked man on the raft also had hair that was also blackened by the rain, sticking to his skin.The wood they used to build the rafts was smooth, large square logs that were not only tightly knit, but also caulked to prevent water seepage.But most of the sky has turned clear, and the sun can be seen in the west, and the silver gray clouds are drifting to the far northeast.

A figure approached Arren, stopping carefully a few feet away.The man was small and thin, no taller than a twelve-year-old boy, and his eyes were black, large and long.In his hand he carried a spear, pointed with an ivory barb. Arren said to him, "Thank you and your people for saving my life. I am grateful." The man nodded. "Can you take me to meet my companion?" The raftman turned around, raised his voice, and made a piercing sound like a seabird.After calling, squat down, as if waiting.Arren followed his example. The floating raft also has a mast, but the floating raft they are on does not have a mast.The masted rafts had sails, very small compared to the width of the raft, brown, not canvas or linen, but a kind of fiber that didn't look like weaving, but Beaten, as in the way felt is made.A raft, about a quarter of a mile away, lowered its brown sail from its mast with ropes, then hooked and stretched the other rafts along the way, and floated abreast with Arren's.When there was only a three-foot gap between the two rafts, the man beside Arren stood up and jumped across with ease.Arren did so, but landed awkwardly on all limbs—for there was no spring left in his knees.He got up and found that the little man was looking at him, the expression on his face was not gloating, but admiring.Evidently, Arren's composure earned his respect.

This floating raft was taller than other floating rafts on the sea. It was made of large logs forty feet long and four to five feet wide. Due to years of use and the weather, the wood had become black and smooth.Surrounding the first few erected or fenced sheds were grotesque statues, and the four tall corner posts of each shed or enclosure were adorned with tufts of sea-bird feathers.Arren's guide led him to the smallest shelter, where he saw a sparrowhawk lying and sleeping. Arren stepped into the awning and sat down, while his guide returned to the other raft, where no one else interfered.About an hour later, a woman brought him food from another raft.The food was cold stewed fish with some transparent sprinkles on it, slightly salty but delicious.There was also a small glass of water, which was stale and tasted like asphalt - presumably from the bitumen on the bucket to prevent leaks.From the way the woman gave him water, he understood that she was giving something precious, something that should be treated with courtesy.He drank the water respectfully, and didn't ask for more—though he could have had ten times as much. Sparrowhawk's shoulder was bandaged deftly.He slept deeply and comfortably, and when he awoke, he looked at Arren with clear eyes and a gentle, cheerful smile--it was always amazing to see a smile on a stern face.Arren suddenly felt like crying again. He put his hand on Sparrowhawk's and said nothing. A raftman approached and knelt down in the relatively large shed not far away.The shed looked a bit like a temple, with a complicated square design above the door, and the wood of the door frame was specially carved in the shape of a gray whale.This raftman was as short and thin as the other raftmen, with a boyish build, but his face was firm and straight, weather-beaten.He only wore a piece of linen, but he did not hide his majesty.He said, "Let him sleep more." So Arren left Sparrowhawk and came to him. "You are the chief of the people," said Arren.Wang Gongqing, he knew it at a glance. "I am." The man nodded slightly.Arren stood before him, rigid and motionless.The man's dark eyes met Arren's gaze. "You are also a leader," he concluded after observing. "I am," Arren replied.He wondered how the raftman could tell, but his appearance remained indifferent. "But I serve my master, who is there." The leader of the raftmen said words that Arren could not understand at all: some words became unintelligible, and there might be names he did not know.Then I heard him say: "Why did you enter "Balechun"?" "We're looking for—" But Arren did not know how much to reveal, nor what to say.Everything that happened, and their quest, seemed to be a long time ago, and his mind was just a mess.At last he said: "We are going to the Isle of Oberhou. They attacked us when we came ashore, so my master was wounded." "And you?" "I am not wounded," said Arren, and the calm and self-possession he had learned at court came in handy. "But, there is... there is something absurd. A man who was traveling with us, he drowned. It was because of fear..." He didn't go on, and stood silent. The Chief looked at Arren with those unfathomable black eyes, and said at last: "Then you came here by accident." "That's right. Is this still the South Frontier?" "Zheng? No, those islands—" The leader waved his thin black hand, drawing a large arc about a quarter of the compass from north to east. "The islands are all in that area," he said, "all the islands." After speaking, he compared the evening sea in front of them, from north, west, and south, and said, "This is the sea." "Which land are you from, Patriarch?" "No land. We are 'children of the open sea.'" Arren gazed at his alert and wise face, and looked around. He saw temples on the raft, and tall idols. Each idol was carved from a whole tree, including gods, dolphins, Fish, people, seabirds: I also saw the whole clan busy with work, such as weaving, carving, fishing, cooking on high platforms, and taking care of babies; I also saw other floating rafts, at least seventy, spread out into a single boat on the sea. Great circle, probably a full mile in diameter.This is a town, like a small town with smoke billowing in the distance and the laughter of children flying high in the air.It's a "town" yes, but there's an abyss beneath it. "You never log in?" the boy asked in a low voice. "Once a year, we go to 'Long Sand Dunes', where we cut down trees and refit the rafts. The time is always in autumn, and then we go north with the whales. In winter, the rafts disperse separately, and we return to Baba in spring. Le Chun Zhonghe. At that time, the floating rafts will communicate with each other, get married, and hold long dance celebrations. The area where the tribe gathers is called "Ba Le Chun Ding Ze". The ocean current travels northward from here, and then drifts with the ocean current in summer Back to the south, we waited until we saw the "Great King Group", that is, gray whales, before turning back to the north. We followed them all the way, and finally returned to Yema Beach on Long Sand Dune Island for a short stay." "Master, this sounds like a wonderful life," said Arren. "I have never heard of a Clan like yours. My home is far from here, but our Enlad Island On the eve of the summer solstice, there will also be a long dance celebration." "But you are trampling the ground to make it stable," said the chief without a particular expression. "We are dancing on the deep sea." After a while, he asked, "What's the name of your master?" "Sparrowhawk," said Arren.The chief repeated the syllables as they were, but to him the syllables obviously had no meaning.From this Arren knew that what the chief narrated was true, that these peoples dwelt on the sea year after year, and over this open sea beyond any land or trace of land, where birds that saw no land flew, I don't know everything about human beings. "He just went through a life-and-death situation and needs sleep." The leader said, "Go back to the 'Star Raft' first, and wait for my news." He stood up as he said.Although he knew who he was, he was obviously not quite sure of who Arren was, so he didn't know whether to treat him as an equal or treat him like a child.In this case, Arren preferred the latter, so he didn't mind the leader's plan to retreat first.But then he ran into a problem: the rafts had drifted away, and there was only a hundred yards of ripples spreading between the two rafts. The leader of the Children of the Open Sea spoke to Arren again—succinctly and powerfully. "Swimming," he said. Arren stepped into the water cautiously, the coolness of the water comforting his sunburned skin.He swam across and managed to tow himself onto another raft.After climbing up, he found five or six children, teenagers and girls on the raft, looking at him with interest.A very young girl said, "You swim like a fish on a hook." "How should I swim?" Arren asked politely, a little bit hurt.In fact, there's no way he'd be rude to such a tiny fellow human being.The little girl was a polished mahogany statuette, delicate and fragile. "Like this!" she cried, and immediately plunged into the bright water like a seal pup.After a long time, at an unbelievable distance, I saw her black obedient head emerging from the water, and heard her raise her voice to greet her loudly. "Come on!" said a boy.He might have been around Arren's age, but he looked neither tall nor built beyond the average boy of twelve.He has a stern expression and a tattoo of a blue crab all over his back.As soon as he threw himself into the water, the others followed suit, even a three-year-old child in unison.As the tide turned, Arren had to throw himself into the water.After entering the sea, he tried his best not to make splashes. "Be like an eel," said the boy, swimming up to his shoulder. "Be like a dolphin," said a pretty girl with a pretty smile, before disappearing into the depths. "Be like me!" cried the three-year-old baby, shaking like a bottle. So, that evening till dark, and the long golden day after, and the day after, Arren swam and talked and worked with the children of the Star Raft.Of all the experiences he had had since leaving Roke with Sparrowhawk on the morning of the equinox, this one was the strangest, for it had nothing to do with what had happened before, with this journey, with his life--even It has nothing to do with things that have not yet been encountered in the future.Sleeping at night, lying with others under the stars, he thought, "Here, in the sun, beyond the edge of the world, with the children of the sea, it is almost like dying, experiencing life after death..." Before falling asleep , he will look for the yellow star and the shape of the "terminal rune" in the far south sky, every time he can see the Gobadden star, and the smaller and larger triangles, but now, the yellow star rises It was too late, and he couldn't keep his eyes on it until the whole shape protruded above the horizon.These rafts drifted southward day and night, but there was never any change in the sea, because the ever-changing sea never changed.The May thunderstorm is over.At night, the starry sky is bright; during the day, the sun shines. He understood that the lives of these people could not always be so dreamlike and comfortable.He asked about winter, and they said that it rained for a long time in winter and the waves were rough, so the rafts scattered, day and night, floating and sinking in gray and darkness, week after week.Last winter, during a month-long storm, they saw "thundercloud-like" waves.That's how they describe the waves because they've never seen hills.At that time, from the back of a huge wave, one could see the next huge wave coming several miles away with great momentum.Can the floating raft travel in that kind of sea?he asks.They say yes, but not every time.When spring gathers at Bale Chundingze, there will be two, or three, or six... disappearing. They married early.The boy who got a blue crab tattoo on his back according to his name "Blue Crab" is married to the beautiful girl named "Albatross".The boy is only seventeen years old, and the girl is two years younger.There are many such marriages among the Furai people.There were many babies on the raft, crawling or toddler, all of them were tied to the four posts of the central shed with long straps, and when it was hot during the day, they would climb into the shed, and all of them would sleep huddling together.The older children look after the younger ones, while the men and women share all the work, taking turns harvesting the large palm leaf seaweed.Palmettophytes are eighty to one hundred feet long, with leaf margins resembling those of ferns.The group worked together to pound the undersea plant into cloth and use its coarse fibers to weave rope and netting.Their jobs include fishing, drying fish, and grinding whale teeth into various tools.But they always have time to swim, schmooze, and never have to get work done.They have no time division, only "day" and "night".After a few of these days and nights, Arren felt as if he had lived countless days on a raft, and the Isle of Oberjo became a dream, and that dream was followed by other, more vague dreams.He also felt that his experience of living on land and being the prince of Enlad Island was in another world. When at last he was called to lead the Raft, the Sparrowhawk stared at him a long time before he said, "Now you are like Arren I saw at the Fountain again, as bright as a golden seal. Here For you, child." "Hey, Master." "But, where is this? We are far away from all places, and have sailed beyond the map... A long time ago, I heard people talking about floating raft people. At that time, I thought it was just one of the many legends in the southern border. It’s a fantasy. Unexpectedly, we are saved by this fantasy, and our lives are saved by a myth.” He smiled and spoke, as if he also shared the infinitely comfortable life that Xia Ye spent here.But his face was haggard, and there was darkness in his eyes that had not yet been illuminated.Arren saw it, and faced it. "I failed—" Arren hesitated. "I have betrayed your trust in me." "What do you say, Arren?" "Over there on Oberjo, you needed me once, you were hurt and you needed my help, but I did nothing. The boat drifted, and I let her drift. You were in pain, and I did nothing for you. I've seen land, I've seen land, but never tried to turn the ship—" "Be still, child." The mage's tone was so firm that Arren could only obey.Soon, the mage said, "Tell me, what were you thinking at that time." "Thinking of nothing, Master. Not thinking at all! Just feeling that nothing is going on. I thought you had lost your wizardry—no, I thought you never had wizardry at all. You lied to me." Sweat was pouring out of his face, and he had to force himself to speak, but he continued: "I was afraid of you at that time, I was worried about death, I was so worried that I didn't dare to look at you, because you might die Died. At that time, I couldn't think of anything, only one thing: if I could, could I find a way to avoid death for myself. However, at any moment, life is always passing, as if there is a wound , blood pouring out, just like your situation at that time. I thought everything was like this, but I did nothing. I did nothing, just want to avoid the fear of death." He stopped.After all, telling the truth was hard, but it wasn't shame that kept him silent, it was fear—the same fear.He finally understands why this peaceful life at sea, the sunlight on these rafts, makes him feel like an afterlife or a dream, so unreal, because he knows from the bottom of his heart that reality is empty, they have no life, temperature, Color, sound, and yes—no meaning, no height or depth.The forms, lighting, and colors at sea and with the naked eye, despite their first-rate performances, are nothing more than illusions playing in superficial voids. Once the illusion is gone, nothing but formlessness and coldness remain. Sparrowhawk watched him intently, but Arren ducked his gaze away.Surprisingly, there was a whisper of "courage" in his heart speaking—or maybe it was a whisper of "mocking", in short, it was a proud and ruthless voice: "Coward! Coward! Are you going to give up even this?" With an effort of will, he raised his eyes to meet those of his companion. Sparrowhawk reached out and took Arren's hand, squeezing it tightly.Therefore, their eyes and flesh and blood had contact. "Lebanin," said Sparrowhawk, who had never called Arren's real name before, nor had Arren told him. "Lebannin, the name is correct, and it is your name. There is no safety in the world, and there is no end. One must be in silence to hear the voices of the world. One must be in darkness to see the stars. To dance, one must always be in the Dance in the void, above the dreadful abyss." Arren tried to break free, but the mage would not let go. "I have failed you," said Arren, "and will fail you again, for I am not strong enough!" "You are strong." Sparrowhawk's voice seemed to soften a little, but the same sternness was still present in the depths of Arren's personal shame, taunting him. "Whatever you love, you will continue to love. Whatever you are doing, you will continue to do. You are what everyone depends on, and it's no wonder if you don't understand this, after all, you only spent seventeen years. It takes years to understand. But Lebannin, think about it: to deny death is to deny life." "But I followed after death!" said Arren, looking up at Sparrowhawk. "Like Sapley—" "Sapley wasn't looking for death, he was looking for how to escape death, escape life. He was looking for safety: he was afraid of death and wanted to end that fear." "But, yes, there is a way, there is a way beyond death and back to life, beyond death and back to life without death. That's it—that's what they were looking for. Sapley, Hall, and People who were wizards. That's what we're looking for. And you! Especially you, you must know the way—" Sparrowhawk still held Arren's hand tightly. "I don't know," he said. "Really, I know what those people think they're looking for, but I know it's a lie. Listen to me, Arren, you're going to die, you're not going to live forever, no one Or anything is immortal. But only we can know this fact. It is a great gift: the gift of "I". Because what we have, we know that we must lose it, and we are willing to give it up... That "I" is our torment, our glory and our humanity, it will not last forever. It will change and it will disappear, like a wave of the ocean. You will make the sea stand still and the tide to save a wave, to save yourself. Do you rest? Will you give up the art of your hands, the passion of your heart, the light of the rising and setting sun, for the sake of a long-lasting security? This eternal security is that of Vasso, or Lobanari, or elsewhere. What people are looking for. When they heard it, they heard the message: Deny life, and you can deny life and death forever! I did not hear it, Arren, because I would not hear it. I would not take this desperate Proposal. If I am so blind and deaf, you have become my guide. Your innocence, courage, recklessness, loyalty, etc., are now my guide, the child I sent to lead the darkness. It is you I follow You have always felt that I was too harsh on you, but you have not yet realized what it means to be harsh. I use your love like a candle, burning that love to light the way forward. We must continue Go on like this, we must go on like this, till the seas dry up, and the joys dry up, to where your mortal fear draws you away." "Where is that, Master?" "I have no idea." "I can't take you there, but I am willing to go with you." The mage stared at Arren with a dark and profound gaze. "But if I fail again and betray you—" "I trust you, son of Morred." After speaking, both of them were silent. Above their heads, against the blue southern sky, swayed very gently, carved idols of dolphins, winged gulls, and human faces with gazing eyes made of shells. Sparrowhawk stood up, his movements clumsy because the wound was far from fully healed. "I'm tired from sitting," he said, "If you keep still, you will gain weight." As he spoke, he began to pace the raft.Arren paced with him, and they talked as they walked.Arren told Sparrowhawk how his life had been these past few days, and mentioned the raftman friends he had known.At this time, Sparrowhawk was more restless than his strength, and that strength was soon exhausted.A girl weaves algae leaves at a weaving machine behind the House of Kings.Sparrowhawk stopped beside the girl and asked her to help him find the leader.Then go back to the rest shed.The leader of the floating raft people came to the shed and greeted him politely.The mage also greeted them politely, and the three of them sat down together on the sealskin blanket in the shed. "I have thought about what you told me," said the chief first, gently and solemnly. "That is, why human beings want to return from death to their own bodies, and in their quest they forget to worship the gods and their own bodies, and finally go mad. Stupid behavior. Besides, I was thinking, what does this matter to us? We have nothing to do with other human beings, not their land, their ways, what they produce, what they destroy. We live in these seas, and our life is the life of the sea. We neither want to preserve them nor lose them. Madness does not arise here. We do not come to land, and the land people do not come to us. When I was young, when I went to Long Sand Dune Island to log for rafts and winter huts, I would occasionally speak to people who took boats to Long Sand Dune Island. In the fall, we often saw boats following gray whales. from Ohou Island and Wai Wai Island (that's how he called Oberhou Island and Willage Island). Those people often followed our floating rafts from afar, because we knew the presence of the "Kings" in this area. The route of travel and the meeting place. But that is the only experience I have with land people. Now they don't come here. Maybe it's because they are all crazy and fighting each other. Two years ago, from Changshaqiu Island to the north We have seen the smoke of a massive burning that lasted for three days. If the land people are really fighting and burning, what does it matter to us? We are the descendants of the open sea, and we live in the ocean Life." "However, this time when you saw the landman's boat floating, you took the initiative to rescue it." The mage said. "At that time, some of our clansmen said that it was unwise to do that, and they wanted the boat to float to the end of the sea." The leader Gao Yue replied in a calm voice. "You have a different view from those tribesmen." "Yes. I said at the time, although they are land people, we have to help them. In the end, we did. But the mission of your trip, we have no interest. Some of the land people have gone crazy, and the land people have to deal with it themselves. We Only follow the path of "Dawangqun", we can't help you with your pursuit. We welcome you to stay here as long as you want. In a few days it will be the Long Dance Festival. After the Long Dance Festival, we will follow Toyo Go north with the current, and at the end of summer the current will bring us back to the waters around Long Sand Hill Island. If you will come with us, it is very good; if you will take your boat away, it is also very good." The mage thanked him, and the leader got up to leave, small and tough as a heron.Sparrowhawk and Arren were alone in the shed. "'Innocence' doesn't have the power to resist evil," Sparrowhawk said with a wry smile. "But it has the strength to do good... Let's just hang out with them for a while, until I'm not so weak." "A wise decision," said Arend.The fragility of Sparrowhawk's body shocked him and moved him, and he was determined to protect the man from his own energy and urgency, insisting that he at least wait until the pain was relieved before continuing on the road. The mage glanced at Arren, seeming a little taken aback by his praise. "They're kind," Arren added, not paying attention to Sparrowhawk's gaze, "they don't seem to have any of the mental illnesses we've seen in Holttown or any other island. Probably no island is like these aliens." The people help us in this way and welcome us warmly.” "You're probably right." "They live so happily, summer..." "Indeed. However, eating cold fish all your life, and never seeing the pear tree blooming or tasting the flowing spring will always feel boring." Arren then returned to the Star Raft to work, swim, and sun himself with the other young men.Chat with sparrowhawks in the cool of the evening before sleeping peacefully under the stars.The days gradually approached the Long Dance Festival on the eve of the summer solstice, and the whole batch of floating rafts slowly drifted northward in the ocean currents of the open sea.