Ian stood also, but he could not make his feet move after her.
His mind was still in shock that he was alive.
Ahead, he watched Robin stop to speak with Ulli and Fletcher, pointing in different directions as she gave them some sort of order, organizing an impossible plan to take care of the Majis.
She was alive. He should be thankful for that.
Moving past the Majis, Robin walked further up the shore and bent down to lift a piece of driftwood. She started dragging it back to the small fire someone had lit in the center of the Majis. The fire that was mostly smoke and steam, as there was no dry wood on the sand.
The Majis were alive. He had saved them from slaughter.
Even his soldiers were alive, against all odds.
He had accomplished what he had set out to do.
But this was no victory.
In the distance, Robin stumbled.
Ian ran toward her, his head hanging forward as he no longer had the strength to hold it up. “Robin,” he called. “Stop.”
Robin stepped doggedly forward, dragging the heavy driftwood that was nearly as long as she was tall. “I have one good arm,” she said.
“It’s still sopping wet.” Ian grabbed the wood near her hand, attempting to take the weight from her. “It is not even going to burn.”
“We have to try,” Robin replied, refusing to let go of the wood.
“We have been trying,” Ian said. “We did try.” Trying got them here. To this pointless victory.
“Still no sign of the third ship,” Robin said, her voice matter-of-fact as though she wanted to avoid responding to Ian.
Ian glanced out over the empty waves, watching the floating debris from the two confirmed shipwrecks float in to the shore.He shook his head. “Then it is gone. The taskers turned it around and returned to Istroya.”
“They will die in this cold,” Robin said, using her head to gesture toward the Majis ahead. “Building up the fire is our first priority.”
“Yes,” Ian agreed. His eyes moved from the waves to the sand. The sun was fully up now, but instead of shedding hope on a new day, it illuminated the five dozen people who dotted the shoreline. Cold, exhausted, soaked to the bone. With nowhere to go. Gareth was right.
These people would die. If not by hunger and exposure to the elements, then by the hatred of the people of Iseldis. No one would take them in.
He had not seen Sol or Aizel, but he was still alive to tell Meena and Erich that they had not survived the raid.
Reaching the fire, Ian dragged the long driftwood over the small fire. The wet wood hissed as it made contact with the meager flames.
Ulli placed a hand on Ian’s shoulder, forcibly pushing him down to the ground. “Sit,” the man said. “You are nearly dead. There is nothing more you can do.”
Ian landed in the sand with a painful thud that shook through his aching body. Ulli’s words, perhaps intended to relieve him from responsibility, felt more like a censure.
There was nothing more he could do.
He had indeed failed.
Chapter 51
Robin deposited another piece of driftwood at the second fire Liam was attempting to start. Around it, the freed Majis sat wrapped in a random assortment of dried clothing and blankets that Ilida had sent with Willa earlier that morning.
Robin sent a quiet thanks to her ever-thoughtful steward. No one knew that the Majis would end up swimming to the shore, but Ilida had still known they would need to be warm.
Lyra moved among them, having also come with Willa, passing out small bites of bread and dried meat.
