"I'm a wanderer,” King said, speaking of his philosophy.

The stranger wanted to stay a while, and Bran was okay with that. He was also okay with King earning his keep; every member of the community worked for the betterment of it.

“I'm sure we can find something for you,” Bran told King. He considered his words before he continued, remembering his previous evening's discussion with the Council. “There's one more thing, and … this is a must … non negotiable. You can't speak of the outside world with anyone but the Elders.”

Bran paused a moment before clarifying, “We … the people guiding this community and many of the other communities nearby … we have made a conscious decision to forget … to do without … many of the technologies of the past … many of the things that, when used together, led our world to collapse.

“I don't know how deep your knowledge of the Old Ways go, Mister King,” Bran continued with a serious tone, “and honestly, I don't know if I want to. I ask that … no, I demand that you keep what you know to yourself–”

Bran tapped a fingertip to his temple, finishing, “--in here. We are happy with our world the way it is. We are safe … secure … prosperous … as prosperous as we need to be anyway.”

Bran stood from where he'd been sitting, offering, “If you have something to share … an idea, a process, a technology, that you do not already see in use here now … bring it to me. I have been designated by the Council to be your Gå mellem … your go between … liaison. You knew this word, yes?

“You are welcome to remain in our community, Mister King,” Bran said with a sincere tone, “for a few days … a few months … a few years … so long as you do not become disruptive. We are happy the way we are. Be happy with us … for as long as you wish.”

Bran glanced back up the trail towards the village and found Annie standing there, watching the two men with great interest. He drew a deep breath and released it as an audible sigh.

“I have another request, Mister King,” he said. “My daughter, Annie … she's the one who found you on the beach … she has developed a bit of a fascination with you.”

Bran looked up the hill again, contemplating whether or not he was doing the right thing. He was conflicted yet continued, “You will need someone to help you through your quarantine period … while you are still in isolation … or you'll go tosset … nuts. You know this term, yes…? Crazy?”

Without waiting for King’s approval, Bran waved Annie to join them on the beach. Unsurprisingly, she rushed down the trail. Bran warned King, “ My daughter is a curious person. I hope you will remember what I have said about new knowledge.”

Annie arrived, circling around King at a respectable distance to stand near her father. She stared at King with a beaming smile.

Bran began, “Annie, Mister King here needs someone to help him during his quarantine–”

“I’ll do it,” she cut in, her wide smile widening even farther. “Whatever he needs, Papa.”

Bran was already regretting this. He spent a minute reminding her of the quarantine rules, stressing at the end, “If Mister King is sick in any way and you--”

“I understand, Papa,” Annie again cut in. “Three meters at all times–”

“Five!,” Bran corrected. She nodded to him. He looked to King, asking, “Can you work with this, Mister King?”

“There's one more thing…” Bran stressed to King. “You can't speak of the outside world with anyone but the Elders.”

King found the man's request unbelievable. Everywhere he'd been since beginning his adventures, the people he'd met had wanted to know all they could about the world beyond them. King listened to Bran’s explanation, and while he didn't understand it, he was willing to abide by the demand.

Then Bran spoke of his daughter’s fascination. King followed Bran’s eyes up the hill to find the young beauty spying on their conversation. King had developed a bit of a fascination for Annie as well, though he wasn't about to admit that to the girl’s father.

“You will need someone to help you through your quarantine period,” Bran continued. King listened and watched as the youngest Elder waved his daughter down to the beach.

“My daughter is a curious person,” Bran told King. “I hope you will remember what I have said about new knowledge.”

“I will,” King said.

King studied the young woman’s body as she deftly negotiated the trail to where the men sat together yet also apart. King’s mind wasn't on what he could teach Annie about the world; it was on what he could teach her about being a woman. He clenched his jaws as he remembered that he was still in quarantine and – even if Annie was equally desirable of such lessons – it would be quite sometime before such an education could begin.

As she arrived, though, King reminded himself that he couldn't be certain that the girl didn't already have plentiful womanly experiences. During his short stay at the settlement of Carolines, he'd learned that the sexual education of girls began with their first bleeding. There had been a history of that, of course, if you reached back a handful of centuries, in some cultures much less. Modern thinking had ended that practice in most cultures, though. King was sure he'd learn how things were here eventually.

“Annie,” Bran began, “Mister King here needs someone to help him during his quarantine–”

“I’ll do it,” the girl cut in, smiling wide. “Whatever he needs, Papa.”

King did his best to suppress his smile. Annie’s eagerness was obvious. King only hoped that his slowly growing erection wasn't.

Bran again reminded his daughter of the rules of quarantine, then asked his daughter’s charge, “Can you work with this, Mister King?”

“I can, on one condition,” he responded. “You stop calling me Mister King. King is fine.”

He could have reminded them that his first name was Craig, but he hadn't gone by his given name in forever so he kept it to himself. “I have no problems sticking to the quarantine rules…”

King looked at Annie and smiled again, finishing, “...now that I have someone to talk to.”

Looking to his breakfast, he asked if he could first finish it, then take a walk down the beach to look for more signs of his shipmates having also come ashore.

Bran looked to his daughter with a solemn expression, then looked to King. “We did find some of your traveling companions, King. But … they were dead.”

King wasn't surprised by this news. The storm that had ravaged the ship had been powerful, and King had seen dead bodies in the water before he was swept away from the sinking vessel by the waves.

“Where … how many?” he asked.

“Three,” Bran said, pointing. “Up the beach there. I'm afraid that we couldn't properly tend to them … not knowing whether they–”

“I understand,” King cut off the explanation. His mind’s eye imagined – very accurately, in fact – the bodies of his friends being torn apart by gulls, crabs, and other scavengers. He thought about the options regarding the corpses and realized there really were none. “It's not the burial at sea that they would have preferred, but…”

King returned to his breakfast, remembering his lost friends,

“I have no problems sticking to the quarantine rules,” King said, looking at Annie and smiling, “now that I have someone to talk to.”

Annie felt her face burning with a blush. She was excited to spend time with the stranger and couldn't wait for her father to leave.

They talked about King's deceased traveling companions, after which King returned to his breakfast. Bran headed for the trail to the village, saying, “I'll go arrange for that bath we spoke about.”

Stopping close to his daughter, Bran said in a soft voice, “Maintain your distance, Annie, and pay attention to wind direction. You're a smart girl. Don't do something stupid.”

Looking back to King, Bran said, “I hope you won't be offended, but I'm going to put a man with you as well. I'll send him down in a few minutes.”

Annie began in a complaining tone, “Papa! You don't have to–”

But she went silent when she got the look. Grumbling, she said, “Fine. But not Paul.”

Bran smiled, leaned in to kiss his daughter’s forehead yet again, and confirmed, “Not Paul.”

He headed up the trail, peeking back over his shoulder once early, then once just before losing sight of the pair. By then, Annie had already taken Bran’s earlier seat and begun her inquiries:

“Where's Newfoundland…?”

“What's there…?”

“How many people live there…?”

“Are they just like us…?”

“Why'd you leave…?”

“Where were you trying to go…?”

“Who was with you…?”

“Are you married?”

"No offense taken," King said when Bran informed him that he would be watched over by yet a second villager, this one a man. Honestly, he wouldn't have minded being alone with Annie, but King understood the reason as it was coming from both a village Elder and a father. He joked, "The more the merrier."

King put the now empty dishware back into the basket, stood, and said, "Let's walk." Then, remembering the news about his shipmates on the beach, he suggested, "Maybe uphill?"

As they headed slowly up the hill in the direction of the village, Annie began hitting King with questions that he was sure had been building up since the moment she'd found him unconscious on the beach.

“Where's Newfoundland…?”

"Where's Newfoundland...?" King asked, "or where's Newfoundland from here?"

King thought for a moment about what Bran had said about knowledge and his preference that King not spread it. He didn't see anything wrong with answering this question, vaguely anyway. "Newfoundland in an island that is -- or was? -- a province of a country called Canada."

That was more or less true. Newfoundland, the island, was actually part of the Province of Newfoundland and Labrador. King didn't really think he needed to make that clear to Annie. "As far as where it is from here...?"

Again, King recalled Bran's warning. "I can't really tell you that, because I don't really know where I am. Your father said this was Greenland, but where in Greenland? Newfoundland could be to the west, the southwest, the south ... don't know."

Again, that was more or less true, excepting the fact that there was no way that Newfoundland could be south of Greenland. Again, King didn't think he needed to be clear on that.

“What's there…?” Annie asked.

"Not much, really," King said, chuckling. "New Eastport was a fishing village. They hunted and foraged in the forests, too."

“How many people live there…?” she pushed on.

"A hundred, I guess," King lied. "It varies."

In truth, New Eastport was a thriving city of almost a thousand residents. They were fishers and hunters like King said, but they were also sea merchants. In addition to more than 40 fishing vessels, the city had a fleet of 20 or more merchant ships that sailed southwest down the New England coast of the United States and northwest along the coast of Labrador, sometimes even venturing all the way into the Hudson Bay.

He thought it best not to mention the extent of New Eastport's impressive merchant fleet. And if he wasn't going to tell Annie about that, he certainly wasn't going to tell her that one of their most profitable trade products was people, specifically females. In fact, the cargo of the small sailing vessel from which King had been thrown into the sea by Mother Nature's fury had included a dozen teenage girls destined for the Caroline slave market.

King and three conspirators -- all of whom had been shanghaied to crew the vessel -- had killed the captain and his loyal crew and hijacked the ship. They'd planned on sailing east for Ireland, England, Europe, wherever, in an attempt to find freedom for all aboard. Obviously, that hadn't happened.

“Are they just like us…?”

No, they most certainly aren't, King thought to himself. But Bran's words kept coming back to him, so he said instead, "Sure, I guess. They work hard, play when they can ... have babies."

“Why'd you leave…?”

King couldn't help but laugh at that question. He would have loved to tell her the truth as it would make him look like quite the hero. But ... Bran! "Like I told your father, I'm a wanderer ... an adventurer. I wanted to see someplace new."

“Where were you trying to go…?”

"Europe," he said, thinking that Annie certainly at least knew the name of the continent that included the country that at one time owned all of Greenland. "Specifically, Ireland or England."

“Who was with you…?”

Again, King would have loved to answer that question in detail. I was freeing a dozen women even younger than you who were going to be sold as sex slaves or forced into birthing children with men they likely would have preferred to avoid. He couldn't say that, so he said instead, "No one in particular. I was just a crew member, earning my passage by working the rigging. It was a two masted schooner. That's a sailboat, in case you didn't know."

Then, Annie asked a question that he hadn't expected but -- as soon as she asked it -- realized that he should have. “Are you married?”

"Married ... me? No," he said, chuckling softly. "I would never do that to a woman." He saw Annie's reaction to his answer and thought maybe he should explain further. "What I mean is ... I'm not the settling down type. Over the last twenty years, I've lived in more than a dozen places. I like to move around ... to see new places ... to meet new people, like you and your father and the rest of your people. If I married, she'd have to pull up roots and go with me. I ... I don't think that's fair."

As they'd been talking, they'd reached and passed through the village; dozens of people -- men and women, old and young -- had stopped what they were doing to simply watch the stranger and his escorts. The man who'd joined King's escort had met them at the top of the hill -- why climb down if King was climbing up, after all -- and he'd followed behind by a couple of dozen yards.

They finally stopped when King could see the ocean out over the cliff to the east. He found a place to sit and just stared at the sea, wondering whether any of the conspirators or the girls they'd been trying to save had made it ashore.

"I think we should look farther up the shore ... down the shore, too," he said. "If I could make it, someone else might have. They could be hurt ... or lost ... dying of starvation or dehydration or injury. I want you to promise to ask your father to make an effort to find them ... please."

King looked up at the mountain pass and shook his head. It was quite a trail to navigate to perform trade with other communities inland. He found himself wondering what it looked like beyond that pass and the mountains flanking it. He remembered reading in an old book that the ice sheets covering Greenland had compressed the land so far downward that if those sheets ever fully melted away -- which, of course, they had -- that Greenland's interior could become one or many freshwater lakes; or -- if connected to the sea -- become a massive inland saltwater bay.

Maybe, if King were one day allowed to ascend through that pass, he would get his chance to see that the former of those two options had actually occurred. (Map)

King’s answers to her questions left Annie disappointed about the world out beyond the village in and island on which she'd spent her entire life. She'd hoped for something different, something grand, something spectacular.

Even his answer to whether he was married disappointed Annie: "I would never do that to a woman."

Her hopes that the two of them might make a happy and exciting couple one day were quickly being dashed. Here told her, “...I'm not the settling down type.”

However, his explanation that he was a wandering adventurer piqued Annie’s attention. She'd always wanted to see what was out there. Perhaps King would take her with him when he left?

He is leaving, isn't he? she wondered to herself. She didn't want to ask the question; she didn't want to jinx herself. King had just gotten here. Annie didn't want him to even contemplate departing until they'd had a chance to … get closer.

They sat and just stared out upon the ocean for a while, until King said, "I think we should look farther up the shore ... down the shore, too,"

Annie felt a chill claw its way up her back as she remembered the corpses on the beach.

"If I could make it,” he continued, “someone else might have.”

He talked of how the others might be dying, saying. “I want you to promise to ask your father to make an effort to find them ... please."

“He already did,” Annie said, explaining, “The Elder Council met last night and ordered boats sent to the north and south. Going by boat, rather than walking the shore, is easier. There are rocky outcrops that block the way by foot.”

She saw the reaction to the news in King's face and continued, hoping this was good news for him. “They are traveling as far as Black Rock to the north and Cliffside to the south … to look for others from your boat … and to tell the villages about you. Our Elders thought that their Elders should know about you.

“Black Rock is more than 30 kilometers,” Annie continued. “Cliffside is even farther … maybe 40 kay. It will be a couple of days before we hear back.”

“He already did,” Annie said when King asked for her father to send more search parties out. She explained that waterborne teams had gone out north and south to the toward the nearest communities. "It will be a couple of days before we hear back.”

King was delighted at this news. At the same time, though, he was disturbed. He knew it was more likely that they'd find more corpses than survivors, if either were found at all. He looked back out at the sea again. It was a clear day with no fog or low-lying clouds, enabling King to see far beyond the ground-level horizon of 12 miles from here up the hill. It all seemed so peaceful and perfect, so unlike the pre-apocalyptic world that had led them all to this time and place.

"I'd like to just sit here a while, if that's okay," King told Annie. If he wasn't required to return to the quarantine hut, he wanted to get some more fresh air, enjoy the scenery, and -- if Bran allowed it -- even climb the trail to the pass and look down into the interior of Greenland. He mused, "I like it here. It's nice."

"I'd like to just sit here a while," King told Annie. "If that's okay."

"Of course," she said without even thinking about it. There was no harm in letting the stranger out and about, so long as he maintained his distance from Annie and her people. The man with them nodded toward a rocky outcrop and wandered that direction; he needed to pee, which Annie figured out quickly enough.

"I like it here," King said. "It's nice."

"It is," Annie said, again without having to think about it. She liked her home; always had, likely always would. "It's a nice place to grow up. The ocean, the mountains ... good, loyal, friendly, hardworking people. What's not to love?"

A figure climbing the hill toward them caught Annie's attention. She grimaced seeing that it was her father; he was certainly coming to ruin the fun she was having with their visitor. She smiled to him, though, calling out, "Papa, hvorfor klatrer du op ad denne bakke?"

"I'm climbing this hill," he called to her, translating her Danish for King's benefit, "to tell you that you have chores." He looked to their guest, saying, "I'll keep King company."

Annie began, "But Papa, I thought--"

"That someone was going to do your chores for you...?" he cut her off. Jerking a thumb down the hill, he said with fatherly authority, "Get going."

She pouted out her bottom lip to her father, but when she realized that King had also seen the childish expression, she sucked her lip back in and turned away. She groaned before heading down the trail, "Fine." She stopped after just a few steps, though, turning to give King a wide, flirty smile. "See you soon."

She headed away, almost dancing down the trail. Twice before she lost sight of the pair -- the trio, once the peeing man returned -- Annie looked back, still smiling. Bran made some chit chat with King, during which the escort mentioned their guest's desire to climb the pass.

"I can take it up with the Council," Bran said after a moment's contemplation. "It won't happen until you've been released from quarantine, though. In the meantime ... I promise you some freedom to be out and about, like this morning. You'll need to be under guard, obviously. And ... if you aren't bored with her already ... I'm sure that Annie would be willing to keep you company."

It didn't take a genius to see that King liked the idea of spending more time with Annie. Bran reminded the man about the importance of maintaining his distance from his daughter and others, then told him, "I'm going to check some traps. Why don't you come with me."

They headed off on a trail that ran along the side of the mountain. It was a well-worn path that, at places, had been dug out of the hillside or built up with stones to allow safe movement. After a couple of hundred meters, Bran left the trail to check a snare in the rocks of an overhang. He came back empty handed, but a few minutes later at another snare, he lifted the corpse of a large, white hare.

They continued onward, checking another half dozen traps before Bran led King down another descending trail to the village. They delivered the hares to a woman and her daughter who went to work dressing the animals with obvious skill.

"It's a nice place to grow up," Annie said after King had said her home was nice. "The ocean, the mountains ... good, loyal, friendly, hardworking people. What's not to love?"

King had seen a lot of places in his life, more even than he'd told Bran in an earlier conversation. He seen both the good and the horrific of what a post-apocalyptic world had to offer.

As her father climbed the trail toward their position, Annie called out, "Papa, hvorfor klatrer du op ad denne bakke?"

The primary languages of the village were Danish and English. The former was a remnant of tiny Denmark having once owned the much larger Greenland; the latter had resulted from the simple fact that many of the village's original inhabitants had spoken English, either as a first or second language. There were other languages spoken here, too, according to a conversation with Bran. King didn't know what they were, though, he thought he'd heard German and an Inuit dialect as he was passing through the village.

"I'm climbing this hill," Bran translated, for King's benefit, "to tell you that you have chores. I'll keep King company."

Annie was reluctant to leave, playing the hurt little girl role, at least until she caught King watching her with a smirk. She left, promising to see King soon.

"Can't wait, he said, chuckling. To himself, he murmured, "Can't wait to see much more of you."

As King and Bran began their walk across the mountainside, they spoke about the former's desire to see what was on the other side of the pass. King had seen the ocean and the shore already; he wanted to see what remained of the interior of the island of Greenland. Bran said he'd take it up with the Council.

Then, regarding providing King some extra freedom -- and company -- during quarantine, Bran opined, "I'm sure that Annie would be willing to keep you company."

"I'd like the company," King said, trying not to sound too overly excited about the offer. He added for the benefit of the Elder and father, "I'll remember to keep my distance."

King joined Bran in checking snares placed all along the mountainside. He was impressed with how well they made out, returning to the village with a trio of nice sized hares. King sat at a safe distance to watch a woman and her daughter gut, skin, and cut up the animals before tossing them into stew pot.

King could see in the faces of some of the villagers a desire to speak with him, but they'd all been warned to keep their distance. At one point, a toddler rushed King's way, only to be intercepted by his mother. King laughed as the child struggled for his freedom. Bran was nearby, talking to some of his community members.

"I should get in that bath," King told him. More than anything, King just thought he should isolate himself again before the nature of the quarantine was violated.

Back at the hut, King found everything he needed to take a bath. He heated water over a larger than normal fire, poured it into a large, old, dented tub, stripped down, and slipped into the water. He moaned at the feeling, thinking better than sex. His mind went to Annie again, imagining her sitting in the water with him. He scrubbed himself almost raw, leaving the surface of the water filthy. He would rinse himself with clean water, but not before he relieved himself at more mental images of a naked Annie.

King donned a new set of clothes he'd been provided. They were a bit large, a bit loose, but they were of surprisingly good quality, a combination of wool, fur, and hide. He would have expected these materials up here in the north; down in Caroline, they were harvesting and processing cotton, using 19th century processes to make cloth for clothing, ship sails, and other uses.

Dressed, clean, and even smelling good, King went outside to sit in the sun. From his temporary home, he watched the villagers as they went through their day.

Annie had left her father and King on the hillside to finish her work down at the seashore. The village operated several types of fish and shellfish traps that were partially Annie's responsibility to empty, bait, and -- when necessary -- repair or move. She also had chores related to her family hut, including gathering seawood; hundreds of pounds of the sea weed washed up on the shore daily, and after a cutting, drying, stripping, and twisting process became logs that burned long and hot in cook and heating fires.

Once she'd finished her work, Annie casually went looking for King. Her father caught sight of her near the quarantine hut on one occasion and gave her a chastising look. She walked away as if she hadn't been eagerly wanting to see King. Finally, he came outside to sit and watch the work of the villagers unfolding about him.

"Feel better?" Annie asked from where she sat on a rock at the perimeter of the isolation zone. She knew by the fresh, village-provided clothes and slicked back hair that King had finally had his bath. "The village has a communal dinner each night. More efficient. I'll bring you a plate if you're hungry."

She hurried off, returning a few minutes later with a plate that she sat atop one of the cairns before moving back to her rock an appropriate distance away. As they ate -- together but apart -- Annie asked King to tell her more about the world beyond her world.

The temperature dropped quickly as the sun disappeared behind the tall mountains to the village's west. Bran came by to tell them, "Annie, you have things to do at the house ... and King, if you want ... I spoke to the Council members about your request to see the interior. It was a close vote, but ... it was denied ... for now, anyway. It's been decided that your quarantine continue for another ten days, at which time -- if you've shown no signs of illness -- you will be allowed to leave quarantine ... and go and do what you wish."

Annie's expression as her father was talking showed her initial disappointment at the restrictions, followed quickly by her delight that he would, ultimately, be released without those restrictions. She asked, "During quarantine, King will still be allowed to work, though, right...? Maybe help me with the shore traps, Papa ... and you with the snares?"

King studied his daughter as she spoke, again conflicted on how he felt about her infatuation with the newcomer. Bran didn't know this man, which was ironic because he knew him better than anyone else in the village. King could be the worst thing to ever happen to this community if he turned out to be infected with the Bug or any of a number of other ailments that had returned to ravage Human Beings. Or, if he was as healthy as both Bran and Annie hoped, he could turn out to be one of the best things that had ever happened to the village and to Annie.

"King, you can walk the snare route with me in the mornings and evenings," Bran offered, "and you can check the sea traps with Annie, too. Other than that, the Council wants you to remain here in or near your hut ... though ... if you need to take a walk on occasion ... stretch your legs ... I'd be more than happy to accompany you."

As either of the men might have expected, Annie smiled wide at hearing that she was going to get to spend time with King every day.

"Feel better?" Annie asked when she rejoined King near his hut.

"Like a new man," he answered, very honestly. He hadn't felt this clean in weeks, even back to before he left New Eastport on the Elizabeth. "Thank whoever made these clothes. They're great."

Annie spoke of a communal dinner, to which King said, "I'd love a plate, thank you."

As she hurried off, King ogled her backside, smiling yet again. He wanted Annie badly, and -- if he was reading the signals correctly -- she wanted him as well. King understood the Council of Elder's concerns about him possibly being infected with one thing or another and accepted their order for isolation. It was keeping him from discovering whether or not something would happen between him and the beautiful young woman.

Of course, quarantine wasn't the only thing that might stand in the way of him bedding beautiful, sexy Annie of Greenland. There was, of course, her father as well. King had found Bran's approval of him spending time with his daughter as encouraging. But just as he might have been misreading Annie, King might have been misreading her father as well. King didn't know anything about the community's breeding program, of course, so he couldn't know that his contribution of genetic diversity to the village's population was already a thing of thought and even conversation amongst key people, including Bran.

When the girl returned with food and water, she asked him more about the world in which he lived. King first considered the warning Bran had given him about undesirable knowledge before telling her that that world of interest to her really wasn't that interesting.

"Things out there aren't than much different than they are here, really," he said, trying to sound believable, even though he was lying his ass off. This community was so simple compared to such places as New Eastport or the Carolines or New Memphis. He continued, "They hunt, they fish, they build new homes for their growing populations. People pretty much stay where they are."

That was a blatant lie, of course, one that he knew Annie would call him on when she recalled the reasons behind him reaching Greenland. He corrected, saying, "I mean, for the most part, people live and die without ever having gone more than a dozen miles from where they were born. I'm the exception, of course ... but ... there aren't many people like me."

King began to fear that he was going to slip up, to say something Annie would realize was bull crap, when he saw Bran coming to join them. He reminded Annie of her duties, told King his request to visit the interior of the island had been approved for after his quarantine ended in ten days, and told him he could help with the shore traps and snares if he wished."

"I accept," King said to one and all of the man's offers. "And again, so you don't have any concerns about me, I fully understand the reason for quarantine."

Annie left, Bran left, and King retired to his hut ... where he again grasped his cock to images of the beautiful teen writhing energetically as she straddled his waist.



The next day was much like the one that had preceded it: King rose, cleaned up, waited for Annie to bring him breakfast, walked the snare trap route with the girl's father, then descended to the beach to help with the fish traps.

It was high noon when a horn sounded from the tallest of the cliffs flanking the village trail, repeating a pattern that was unfamiliar to King. He didn't know what it meant until he caught Annie looking up and down the beach, more precisely to the waters just beyond it.

Soon, he caught sight of a sailboat nearing from the northeast. Annie explained that it was the crew that had gone to look for more of his people. It seemed to take forever for the boat to reach a spot just east of them, where it finally turned and used both the wind and wave action to reach the shore. By the time they had, people from the village had descended with water and food. King, of course, was directed to stay away to one side.

The two men in the boat looked exhausted. They didn't hesitate to partake of the provisions brought to them before making their report to Bran and a couple of other Elders who'd come down to the shore. King couldn't hear what was being said and stood at one point to move closer, only to be urged back to his sitting spot by the spear-wielding Paul, who had already often taken it upon himself to enforce King's separation by threat.

Seeing the two men look his way often, King knew that what they were reporting involved him. When Bran glanced his way with a look of concern, King stood a second time, telling the threatening Paul, "You have a choice, asshole: stick me with that thing and see what happens, or tell Bran I want to know what the fuck they're telling him."

Paul looked like he wasn't entirely sure how to react, which he didn't have to do when Bran called, "Sit, King. I'll be right there to tell you what we've learned."

The villagers who'd responded both helped the exhausted scouts toward the village trail and pulled the boat up the beach to a safe distance from the changing tides. Annie spoke to her father a moment before he sent her up the hill as well. Finally, the youngest Elder moved over closer to King to speak with him.

"These two men sailed north toward Black Rock," he began. "It's a little village not unlike our own, about 30 kilometers to the north. Along the way, they found what was likely wreckage from your ship. They investigated ... and ... King, they found more bodies. Two of them, both male."

Bran looked hesitant to continue, leading King to ask, "What...? What is it? What aren't you telling me?"

"They continued on to Black Rock, where..." Bran began, pausing to draw a deep breath, then release it in a sigh. "There was a survivor, King. A woman--"

"What? Who?" King asked with obvious shock. "What was her name?"

Bran gestured for the other man to remain call. "They don't know what her name was--"

"How could they not know her name?" King challenged, stepping forward a couple of steps. Seeing Bran back instinctively, King threw up his hands in a calm gesture similar to the one Bran had used and backed up a step. "Sorry. Sorry, I just ... how do your friends not know her name? Didn't they ask? Didn't you ask?"

"The people of Black Rock don't have her," Bran explained. "They aren't the ones who found her."

"What the fuck...?"

Again, Bran gestured for calm, then explained, "A trading party from an inland village were the ones who found her ... on a beach north of Black Rock. They beached in Black Rock to trade and said that they had a female to trade."

"To trade...? Again I ask, what the fuck?" King was beginning to get angry. He'd almost lost his life trying to save the girls from being sold into sexual servitude and/or forced marriage, only to have some Greenlanders capture her and offer her in trade for, what, cheese and goat jerky? He asked, "Where is she now? Did your friends trade for her?"

"No, of course not," Bran said. "The people of Black Rock aren't like that."

"But the people who have her are?" King asked.

"Some of the Clans trade in people, yes," Bran said with a disturbed tone. "We don't."

"So, when do we go get her?" King asked. When Bran only stared at him, he asked with an expectant tone, "We are going to get her ... right?"

Bran began, "You're still in quaran--"

"Bullshit!" King snapped, again stepping closer to the other man before coming to a stop. Pointing up the beach to the northeast, he said, "That woman is my responsibility. I'm the reason she's out there, being held captive by these fuckers. I'm responsible for getting her back ... for keeping her safe ... for keeping her free."

Bran knew there was more here than the other man was telling him and asked, "Do you care to explain this, King? Who is this woman to you, and why is she your responsibility?"

King turned away and took a few steps before coming back, then turning away again, pacing essentially. Finally, he told the other man about how he and others had mutinied aboard a slaver's ship, stealing it and its cargo -- 12 young women destined for the sex slave trade -- and sailing away. He explained about their intended destination -- Ireland, England, Spain, or wherever the current and winds took them -- and about how the storm had ruined their plans.

"This woman isn't anyone to me," he continued, clarifying, "What I mean is, she isn't my woman or wife or anything like that. But she is my responsibility. I have to save her. There were 12 of them ... girls, I mean ... girls and young women. I don't know which one survived, but if she did, there might be even more of them. You gotta understand ... don't you? You have a daughter. What would you do if Annie had been taken and offered for sale?"

Bran again took a moment to just stare at King in silence. He knew what he would do if Annie was ever taken by slavers, and that action ended with him covered in blood, his or theirs or both. But he also had to consider King's quarantine. The man's isolation wasn't something easily ignored or overridden.

"I need you to be honest with me, King," Bran said, stepping forward to within the distance he'd been maintaining since the newcomer's arrival. "Are you certain beyond a doubt that you are free of disease ... the Bug or otherwise?"

King opened his mouth to speak, but Bran quickly raised a hand in a stop gesture before continuing, "Because if I take a chance on you ... if I violate the quarantine ... and you are sick, with anything that could be hazardous to my people ... I can never come back to them."

"I'm not sick," King said with a sincere tone. "I promise you, Bran. New Eastport was free of disease when I left. No Bug, no measles, no chicken pox ... nothing. I promise."

Bran contemplated his next words and actions for a long moment. Looking up the trail, he caught sight of Annie, Paul, and a handful of others standing there watching the two men talking on the beach, wondering how the conversation was unfolding.

"We'll leave tomorrow," Bran finally said. "You, me ... I want Paul to come with us." He saw the grimace on the other man's face and smiled. "He is skilled with the spear and bow and braver than any other man in the village. If we get into trouble, you won't want anyone else at your side ... except maybe me."

"Just the three of us?" King asked.

"We're not going to fight these men," Bran explained. "We're going to explain to them that this woman belongs to you--"

"Well, she doesn't belong to me," King responded.

"Do you want her back or not?" Bran asked. He didn't wait for King's response, continuing, "We're going to tell them she belongs to you and that they need to give her back."

"And if that doesn't work?" King asked, already knowing what his own response would be.

Bran responded in the way King had hoped, saying, "Then we'll be glad we took Paul with us."

With that decision made, Bran ordered, "Return to your hut, get a good night's sleep. We'll leave at dawn."

Getting a head nod from King, Bran turned and led the other man up the hill. When they got close to the others, Bran waved them all to go home, clearing the way for him and quarantine man. When they reached the hut, Bran told King, "I will explain this to the Council. They'll accept it. They won't like it ... but ... they'll accept it. I'll bring you breakfast and mate to get your heart pumping."

"Don't forget the honey," King said, recalling how awful the caffeinated drink had tasted.

They smiled to one another, and just before King headed into the hut, he caught sight of Annie and smiled to her as well. Once in bed, it took King forever to finally fall asleep.

Sunrise, the next day:

When King stirred and sat up from his bed, he would find something inside his quarantine hut that he certainly would never have expected to find: Annie.

"Good morning," she said as casually and friendly as could be. She could see in his reaction the building panic and quickly said, "Before you freak out!"

She scooted closer to the fire to grasp the pot full of hot mate and poured a cup; as she explained herself rapidly, her Danish accent really kicked in, possibly making some of her English words unintelligible. "Papa told me that you and he were sailing north to look for that girl who was on your boat, and I didn't want you to go without me, and since Papa wasn't about to let me join you because he still doesn't know whether or not your infected with the Bug, and since if he did go with you and then would have to be quarantined himself and I wouldn't be able to be with him until he came out of quarantine, that it only made since for me to join the two of you so that whatever happens to him happens to me because I don't want to be without him if he gets sick and dies ... I'd rather be dead, you understand?"

Annie offered out the steaming cup after stirring in a big glob of honey; she was barely five feet from King as he sat upright in his bed, staring at her with surprise. She smiled, asking, "Makes sense, doesn't it?"

A hard day's work had led to a good night's rest, leading to King sleeping right through Annie's secret arrival at and into the quarantine hut. When he awoke and saw her there, he sat up quickly in shock.

"Good morning," she said as if she wasn't doing anything wrong. "Before you freak out!"

"What the hell...?" he responded, most definitely freaking out. "What're you doing here. Your father's gonna have a fucking fit!"

Annie told King about her Papa telling her about the planned trip to rescue the survivor from the Elizabeth. She was talking a million miles an hour, obviously trying to keep King from interrupting her. He was still too shocked by Annie's presence to form an opinion about her reasoning.

She finished speaking about the possibility of her father catching whatever King might have, "...if he gets sick and dies ... I'd rather be dead, you understand?"

He didn't immediately respond, his mind still spinning around her simply being here. She offered out a steaming cup of mate, which King hesitantly took. Only now did he realize that the bedding was exposing him low to his waist, nearly revealing his groin. He tried to be inconspicuous about pulling the blanket tighter around his hips. Only now, after realizing that he'd nearly flashed himself, did King's cock begin stirring. Down! Down, boy! King chastised himself. Wrong fucking time for that!

"Makes sense, doesn't it?" Annie asked about her reasons for being here.

"Makes sense?" King asked surprised. "No! Absolutely not!"

He sipped at the hot drink, grimacing at the sharp bitterness; the honey made it palatable, but only barely. King had a moment to think about what Annie had done, and he began to understand where she was coming from, even if he didn't agree with it. He looked to a small pot cooking over the little fire she'd stoked while he slept. He asked, "May I?"

King wasn't entirely sure what the mush was made of -- some locally harvested grass seed that the villagers ground, soaked, and boiled -- but, with some more honey, it was tasty and filling both. He studied Annie as he carefully ate the steaming food. "Listen, I understand what you did and why. But--"

That was all the farther King got before he heard a familiar male voice beyond the quarantine hut door calling, "King, are you awake? I brought food and mate. We need to get up and around if we're going to get to Black Rock before nightfall."

The man outside was, of course, Annie's father, Bran. King looked to Annie, panicked again as he was when he first saw her in his hut. There was no way to prevent Bran from knowing that his daughter was in here, but then, King knew that Annie wanted it that way. If she didn't invite her father inside, King would.

(OOC: Bran is a shared character, who Annie2002 is going to write next. I'm eager to see where she takes this, heeheehee.)

"Listen, I understand what you did and why," King began after taking a long moment to contemplate what Annie had done. "But--"

"King, are you awake?"

Annie sprang to her feet at the sound of her father's questioning from outside the hut, despite the fact that she'd been expecting him to arrive at any moment. She looked to the door, then to King, with the blood draining from her face.

"I brought food and mate," Bran continued.

"Too late," Annie murmured, more to herself than to either of the men.

Her father continued, "We need to get up and around if we're going to get to Black Rock before nightfall."

Annie had roleplayed how she was going to deal with this moment in her head both before contemplating coming here and while she sat here waiting for King to awake, time she spent studying the sleeping man and imagining lying beside him in that bed. And yet now, as she stood there over King, she'd forgotten each and every option that she'd considered.

Eventually, somehow drumming up the courage, she called out, "Come in, Papa. We're waiting for you."

Annie stepped away from the door, waiting for her father's reaction. That reaction took a bit longer than she'd expected, as Bran simply stood outside, suffering his own bit of shock at what he had heard. Finally, he threw the door open, make eye contact with his daughter, paused again, then surged inside to shut the door behind him, asking, "What the hell?"

His daughter's reaction to his shock and outrage was to drop on her knees close to King, take his face in her hand's, and plant a wet kiss firmly upon his lips. Then, standing tall again and turning to face her father once more, Annie said with a firm, committed tone, "If he's infected, I'm infected, so ... I might as well go with ya'll."

Bran's eyes were wide with a combination of shock and anger. He had no idea how he was supposed to respond to this ... none! In the end, his response would be delayed as the door to the hut flew open yet again, this time revealing Paul, who'd heard the voice of the young woman into whom he'd long been hoping to put a baby inside the quarantine hut that she wasn't supposed to be anywhere near.

"What the hell?" he asked, mirroring Bran's own question.

"I'm going with the three of you," Annie repeated, "to find and rescue King's friend."

She looked down at King, then back to her father and the man still just outside the hut, unsure of whether he was supposed to enter or not. "There's no reason not to take me now. If King is infected, I am, too."

Paul hadn't seen the kiss, of course, but Annie's simple presence inside the quarantine hut in which King had been living for days would mean that if he was sick, she likely would be, too. She continued her reasoning, "I'm as good a sailor as either of you ... hunter and fisher, too. I've been to Black Rock before. I know the village, the people, the surroundings. You'd be stupid not to take me."

"Go outside," Bran finally spoke, his tone softly. When Annie just stared at him, her father more firmly demanded, "Go outside. Wait for me out there."

Annie didn't immediately follow the instructions, not because she was contemplating resisting them but simply because she was frozen in place; she only just now realized that she was trembling deep to the core with fear over how her father would punish her. Ultimately, though -- with one last desperate glance down to King for some sort of support -- Annie hurried past her father and out the door.

Bran moved to the door, taking hold of it and pulling it shut, the move preventing Paul from entering. After a moment, he looked to King, considered his words, then quietly -- and reluctantly -- agreed, "She's right. She's as suited for this as anyone else. And now, this...!"

He was obviously referring to his daughter's intimate moment with the newcomer. Bran looked around, found the mate his daughter had prepared for King, sat near the little fire, and poured a small cup of it for himself before offering to refill the other man's cup. He sipped at it unsweetened, grimaced a bit, then took another drink.

"When I say Annie's as suited for this as anyone else," Bran mused, staring at the cup with a solemn expression, "I don't just mean what she said ... the fishing and sailing stuff." He took a moment, sipped more, then continued, "Two years ago ... raiders attacked the village in the middle of the night. I, um ... I won't go into too many details. It was a ... a hard time for us. For most of us, anyway. Annie ... she, um..."

Bran went silent a moment, obviously disturbed by the memory. King said softly, "You don't have to ... you know ... if--"

But Bran continued, "Annie didn't hesitate. She awoke to the noise of cries and screams ... knew what was happening, sooner than most of us ... grabbed her bow..." He hesitated again, sipping at the hot drink in his hands, then looked up to King and finished, "She killed three of them ... with her bow. No hesitation whatsoever. She saw what was happening, notched an arrow, loosed it, notched another..."

He drained the last of the mate from the little cup, saying, "The last man was rushing her. She didn't see him until the last moment, just before he reached her. She just ... ducked out of his way and stabbed an arrow into his gut. He fell ... and Annie just stood there over him ... watching him die. I was elsewhere ... chasing away other raiders. I didn't see it. I didn't know what had happened to her until it was all over.

"I tried to talk to her about it later," Bran continued, pouring himself another mate and offering more of the drink and honey to King. "She only said, 'I'm alright, Papa.' She went back to our hut ... went back to bed ... and ... when she woke up, it was as if it had never happened ... as if she'd forgotten it entirely."

Bran finished his second little cup in two big swigs, stood from the stool, looked to King for a moment, then ordered, "Get up, get dressed. We're going."

Without another word, the man exited the hut. Outside, he waved off Paul's protestations, only glared at Annie for a moment, then told them both, "Get the supplies down to the boat. We need to be on the water before the sun is in the sky. Go!"

King wasn't sure how Bran was going to react to finding his not-yet 18-year-old daughter in the home of a half-naked man almost three times her age who also was supposed to be in medical quarantine. His response -- a shocked "What the hell? -- was a bit milder than what King had anticipated."

When Annie suddenly dropped to her knees before him and kissed him full on the mouth, King's eyes widened, heart pounded, and brain whirled. If Bran hadn't already been about to kill King, he most certainly would now!

"If he's infected, I'm infected," Annie challenged, "so ... I might as well go with ya'll."

Bran was in obvious shock and anger. For his part, King was shocked as well ... and so very very much inappropriately excited; how the fuck could his cock be growing at a time like this?!?

Annie stated without any doubt in her mind that she was going with the three men -- King, Bran, and Paul -- to rescue the former's friend. King wasn't sure he would have used the word friend to describe the young woman now in the clutches of apparent slavers, but he didn't argue it either.

Annie argued that she was the perfect person to participate in the mission, and after she was sent out of the hut, her father confirmed all she had said ... and more. King was shocked to hear that the teen had taken lives in the defense of her community. The post-apocalyptic world they lived in could be a dangerous and sometimes brutal place, and King himself had taken lives. But Annie was so young and -- while not wanting to think himself sexually discriminating -- a young woman ... no, a girl.

"She's right," Bran said about his daughter's statements about being right for the mission. "She's as suited for this as anyone else. And now, this...!"

"I didn't touch her!" King said suddenly, believing that Bran was misinterpreting what had happened here. "That kiss! That was our first kiss. I mean, it was -- will be -- our only kiss. I mean ... nothing happened here. I woke up and she was here. I didn't sleep with her!"

Bran didn't respond to King's declaration of innocence with regards to his daughter, which King took as the man's belief in what he was saying. Bran only told him, "Get up, get dressed. We're going."

After Annie's father departed, closing the hut door behind him, King sat there another long moment, willing his involuntary and inopportune hard-on to settle down. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Stop that shit! he cursed his cock. Finally, he hopped up, dressed, packed some supplies in an animal hide bag he'd been provided the day before, and -- now flaccid -- headed outside.

King found only Bran still outside the hut, talking -- from an appropriate distance, now that he'd been inside the quarantine hut -- to some of the Council Elders and others interested in what was about to begin. Bran eventually turned, headed to and past King, and said simply, "Let's go."

They descended to the beach, where Annie and Paul had already finished loading the boats and pushed them close to the surf line. King was initially surprised to find that they were taking two of the small sail boats rather than just one, but Bran explained that the quantity of supplies and the expected -- or hoped for -- addition of a fifth occupant on the return trip necessitated two craft.

They pushed the boats out into the calm sea, boarded, and paddled until they were past the breaking waves. The sails went up, filled with the wind of a mild breeze, and off they went. King had never sailed a small boat like this, but he was a quick study, and after just an hour or so of gentle tacking to port and starboard to efficiently use the winds, he felt like a veteran.

Occasionally, King glanced toward the other boat and the mission's only female member. Annie looked so at ease out here, which only impressed King further. He tried to think back to when he was her age, but not only had it been so long ago, there had been so much living in those years as well.

Annie would have preferred to be in the boat King was in, but as they'd prepared to push the craft into the surf, her father had made it obvious that that wasn't his thinking. She went along without argument, taking her place fore of Paul, who took their boats tiller; she was already in deep shit with her father over what she'd done back in the quarantine hut, something of which Paul was, so far, unaware.

Occasionally, Annie caught King glancing toward her boat or – more specifically – toward her. She would smile, then quickly divert her eyes elsewhere; she knew that both her father and Paul would be watching her at times, and she really didn't want to make the situation worse with obvious flirting.

They sailed north by northeast for several hours without hardly a word spoken between Annie and the others; she had nothing to speak about with Paul unless it had to do with the boat’s navigation. The two boats more often than not tacked with each other, keeping their distance from one another to less than a hundred meters.

The same couldn't be said about conversation in the other boat though. Bran had a great deal to ask off King, about the world from which he'd hailed and more: he wanted to know if King might know who the woman they were looking for was and, if he did, what his relationship to her was; he wanted more specifics on the boat King had been tossed from, including more on the passengers, crew, and cargo; and beyond that topic, Bran wanted to know King's thinking on Annie.

“My daughter is an uskyldig,” Bran said, translating, “an innocent. She's never been with a man. She will come of age soon, at which point she will be matched with a man with whom she will make a healthy child.”

Bran paused for a moment, looking to each of the occupants of the other boat before continuing. “Tyka chose Paul for that honor. He is a good candidate … a good choice. He will give me a strong, courageous grandson … or a beautiful, smart granddaughter.”

Again, Bran paused, then finished, “If my daughter will consent to lie with him … which was questionable before your arrival … and is less likely with each passing day.”

“My daughter is an uskyldig,” Bran said, translating, “an innocent.”

The man's comment about his daughter didn't surprise him. King had picked up on that from his limited time with Annie. Was Bran right? Was his beautiful, flirtatious 17-year-old daughter truly as pure as the driven snow that had once covered Greenland? Neither Bran nor King could know for certain.

Bran talked about his daughter’s imminent coming-of-age, as well as the prearranged breeding. King cringed at the thought of Paul lying between Annie’s thighs, pumping his cock in and out of her until he emptied his balls inside her.

“If my daughter will consent to lie with him,” Bran continued about his daughter consenting to being impregnated by Paul, “which was questionable before your arrival … and is less likely with each passing day.”

King looked to Bran, surprised at the man's statement. King understood the man's meaning. He was unsure, however, of how he should feel about it. He felt a little guilt about screwing up Annie’s future, as it seemed to have been arranged for her.

On the other hand, he had no regret in fantasizing that it would be he who first parted Annie’s thighs, that it would be he who first intruded upon her purity, that it would be he whose hardened cock filled her with his seed, possibly putting a child inside her, possibly not; no matter.

“I didn't mean to be a problem, Bran,” King told his boatmate. He contemplated his next words before speaking them, knowing that he didn't mean them. “If you ask, I will maintain my distance from Annie. All you have to do is ask.”

“I didn't mean to be a problem, Bran,” King said after a moment of thought. “If you ask, I will maintain my distance from Annie.”

Bran’s immediate thought was Yes, please, do that. He was still unsure about King's presence in his community; there were simply too many unknowns. But just as quickly as he'd thought that, a second and then third thought came to him: No, we need you here, I think. You're a good man from what I've seen so far, , followed quickly by And Annie likes you, you make her happy, which makes ME happy, and even though I barely know you, I think I'd rather have you ‘deflower’ my child over that prick Paul.

Bran almost laughed at that thought but contained himself.

King added, “All you have to do is ask.”

Bran delayed responding to King by indicating the need to tack again. They swung the stern of the boat to port, aiming the bow away from the shore. Bran looked to the other boat, finding its crew mirroring the action, then looked to King as the man adjusted the lines to maximize the power of the wind against the sail.

“I won't ask that of you,” he said when the other man looked at him again. “My daughter seems to enjoy your company. And…”

Bran considered speaking to King about his daughter’s likely desire to breed with him, as well as his own uncertainties as to whether or not he disapproved of it. In the end, Bran finished with a simple, “It's fine.”

A whistle sounded across the water, drawing Bran’s attention to the other boat. He found his daughter excitedly pointing north. He crouched down enough to follow her gesture under the boom.

“We need to get to shore,” Bran told King with some urgency. He drew the other man's attention to the dark clouds on the horizon to the north. “It'll be here in a couple of hours, maybe less. We don't want to be out here.”

Bran had noticed the increasing wind speed, but until an eastern tack had taken them out far enough to see past the point to the north of them, he'd failed to notice the building storm. He felt stupid and even a bit irresponsibly reckless for not having noticed the danger earlier.

It took nearly an hour to reach shore, despite having only been three or four miles off shore; they’d been outside a line of cliffs when Annie pointed out the storm, and it had taken a half dozen tacks to get them to a section of open beach.

Once ashore, they hurried to pull the boats up to safety, then – even farther up the shore where they found ground firm enough to hold the tent stakes – quickly raised a hide tent. It was already pouring down by the time they were secure inside. Over the next hour, the wind got worse, howling and threatening to rip the stakes out of the ground.

“We'll be okay,” Bran reassured King. “We've survived worse storms than this in this tent.”

Annie untied the bed rolls, laying out the layers with Paul's help while Bran built a fire using the seasoned tinder and kelp logs they'd brought with them. Digging a shallow ditch around the interior where the tent’s walls meet the ground, they were able to keep the rain falling on and near the tent from reaching the one large bed that the four of them were meant to share.

“I'm tired,” Annie announced once all the preparation for bedtime was done. Moving to stand with her back to the three men, she very quickly shed everything but her panties, before kneeling to retrieve a long sleeping gown from her bag, don it, then turn back to her tent mates. Looking between the men from her village with whom she'd shared a bed on campouts before, Annie asked in their first tongue, “Jeg tror jeg sover mellem jer to, ikke?”

King couldn't know that the girl had asked I guess I'm sleeping between you two, yes? As her father threw back the bedding and the three of them began settling in, he would probably figure it out, though.

“Take the edge nearest the fire,” Bran told King. The man smiled, explaining, “You're as close to a gæst … a guest … as we've ever had, so…”

Paul – who realized that the sleeping arrangement put the newcomer next to him – gave Bran a nervous look, then whispered, “Are we sure that he isn't sick … infected?”

“No,” Bran said without hesitation; he'd decided that it was necessary to give King the benefit of the doubt when this trip was first conceived. Knowing that it would bug Paul to no end, Bran said, “We could always put me outside you and King next to Annie.”

Paul looked to the young woman who he hoped to soon be fucking, finding her smiling playfully. He grimaced, saying as he prepared for bed, “No … it's fine.”

Annie’s smile was replaced by an over dramatized pouting of her bottom lip, followed by a giggle. She was the first to be settled down in bed, saying, Godnat, Papa. Godnat, Paul.” Then sitting up to make eye contact with her new crush, Annie finished, “Goodnight, King.”

“I won't ask that of you,” Bran told King, adding, “My daughter seems to enjoy your company.”

That had become very obvious to King, which pleased him as much as it pleased Annie.

And…” Bran began, before ending, “It's fine.”

King couldn't help but wonder what the man had been about to say. He hoped it was something along the lines of And I want you to fuck my daughter at your earliest convenience. Bran wouldn't have put it in those words, of course, but King couldn't help but fantasize that something to that effect had been on the man's tongue.

Soon, thoughts such as those faded away, and everything was about getting off the sea and to safety on the shore. King found himself surprised at how quick and organized the trio were; it was obvious to him that they and their people had dealt with these sudden storms often in the past.

King simply followed instructions barked at him, during the frenzied dash for shore, the erection of the tent, and the preparations of the fire and bed. It quickly became obvious that they would all be sleeping under the same layers, and the earlier thoughts of bedding Annie returned.

Those thoughts resulted in a rapidly swelling cock when the girl announced “I'm tired”, and King looked up to find her standing facing away from her in nothing more than panties. He should have looked away, of course, but he found himself unable to do the right thing. Annie had a beautiful body, tight and well curved; when she leaned down to retrieve her sleeping gown, King caught a quick glimpse of a firm titty that literally caused him to casually lick his lips with hopeful anticipation.

After Annie’s perfect form was again hidden, King looked about himself with sudden guilt, wondering if his ogling of the girl had been noticed. Paul was busy tending to the kelp log fire, and King couldn't know if he, too, had witnessed the erotic display. Looking to Bran, though, King caught the man smiling wide as he tended to his pack. The father peeked up at him for just an instance before returning to his work, and King knew he'd been caught.

No words were exchanged, though, and both men returned to preparing for bed as Annie herself inquired as to who she'd be sleeping between. King didn't understand the words spoken in Danish, of course, but again he fantasized lewd options for what they might have meant.

“Take the edge nearest the fire,” Bran told King, explaining, “You're as close to a gæst … a guest … as we've ever had, so…”

“Are you sure?” King asked, thinking that maybe the lone female might want to be close to the radiant energy coming off the logs of dried seaweed. When Paul and Bran had their exchange about his possible contamination of them, King responded, “I'll try not to breathe on you, Paul.”

As he shed his boots and prepared to do the same with his wet pants, King caught Annie looking his way. Feeling playful, he told Paul, “I'll try to keep my hands to myself, too … but no promises.”

The other man vying for a place of intimacy in Annie’s life only glared back at King, before he, too, slipped under the layers of bedding.

Annie spoke her end-of-day words to each of the men from her village, then looked again to the stranger sharing the bed. “Goodnight, King.”

“Godnat, Annie,” King said in his best attempt at the girl’s first language. He added just barely loud enough to be heard over the driving wind and pounding rain, “Sleep tight.”

King watched her get comfortable, exchanged one last glare with the man lying next to him, and rolled to lie on his side, looking at the small fire. He was contemplating the strange and multiple twists his life had taken to get him here when the exhaustion of the day pushed him quickly into a deep, sound sleep.

The next sunrise:

Annie was the first of the four to stir, sitting up tall to study the three men for a moment before gingerly slipping out of the bed. She repeated her actions from the previous night in reverse, shedding the sleeping gown to stand there in only her panties before donning her clothes once more.

After tying up her boots, Annie fed the fire just enough kelp wood to heat a small pot of mate, then headed outside to pee. It was a beautiful morning, quite surprising as the previous evening had come to a close as a potentially dangerous storm.

Finding a rookery on a nearby cliff, Annie stole one egg from each of eight different nests, carrying them carefully in her pack back to the camp, where she found the others up and around.

“Breakfast,” she announced, pulling out the eggs.

The bedding was once again rolled up, the fire again stoked, and slices of hare in whale oil were already cooking in a pan. Annie scrambled the eggs, distributed them, and after everyone had finished, she gathered the plates and forks.

“Will you help me wash the dishes, King?” Annie asked as she exited the tent.

“Take the bed roll, since you're going that way,” Bran said, gesturing toward it. “Paul and I will take down the tent.”

Paul looked a bit sour at the distribution of work, specifically the way it put his lust interest together with his rival. He didn't argue it, though, instead smothering the small fire with dirt before heading out to begin pulling up stakes.

At the shore, Annie waited for a wave to recede, then rinsed the dishware off in a pool of salt water in a small depression. She nodded King’s attention to the sea, which had calmed so much since last they were on it.

“I'm always amazed at how quickly Mother Nature can show her power in one moment … her ability to so easily kill you if she chooses to do so,” she mused, “then, the next moment, show her beauty … her peacefulness … the side that cherishes life.”

“The Elders of our village don't talk about the world as it was before,” she went on. “I know there was a sickness … and a war.”

She didn't speak of global warming because, surprisingly, she knew nothing of it. Annie knew that her home had, once upon a time, had a great amount of snow and ice, but the concept that Greenland had once been covered by hundreds of feet of ice sheets and glaciers was foreign to her.

“Papa won't tell me about what happened,” Annie said, looking to King expectantly. She didn't ask him to tell her more, but it was in her eyes.