Rolling over on the coarse floor has made his bare arms and legs itchy. He can’t lie down anymore or even pretend to sleep. He has to go back and warn Hurmaz of whatever danger beholds him, even if it would cost him his mission. Let Mart win the game and laugh at Tirad’s cowardice. Let him do whatever he wants. All that matters to Tirad is to see Hurmaz alive and well. He gets up and takes his bag. He ties his leather sandals around his ankles and sets off. It is not hard to find his way back to the port. All the sloped alleys of Oxan go downwards to the sea and the harbour is at its lowest point. He just has to follow the slope down. The alleys are lit by dim lights. Tirad is too engaged to find his way through the twisted alleys that he doesn’t see Dalia’s shadow on the walls of the houses, walking behind him.

Chapter 17

The scarlet light of the dawn reflects from Tirad’s paper. He puts his drawing and charcoal back in his bag. He is not satisfied of his sketch from the Oxan gate and wall. He wishes he had brought a forbidden fiction book to keep him occupied during the long night. Nothing like a good story could take his mind off the never-ending turbulence of thoughts. But he had hid the blue covered ‘Brothers Karamazov’ in his cabin before he left for Oxan to avoid any trouble. It doesn’t matter anymore. The sun is up and the guards are opening the gates to the port. The Island is waking up with the sound of seagulls skirling above the roofed alleys and the harbour. The boatmen and passengers are arriving at the gate from both sides of the gate, some wanting to enter and others on their ways back to their ships. The island residents set off about their businesses and the children rush towards the harbour to swim and throw rocks into the water. Tirad had waited the whole night by the closed gate thinking and rethinking. He gets up and stretches his arms and bends his neck back and forth. But it’s no use; he is too tired from the sleepless night. He can’t rest yet, not until he gets away from Mart and sail to the Saviour Island. He can sleep on the boat as soon as he sets off. He walks towards the entrance booth were people have already lined up.

The Oxan entrance booth is larger than that of the Saviour Island, built with stonewalls with two doors to both sides of the wall. There is also a line behind the booth on the harbour formed by the passengers who had arrived during the night and had waited for the gate to open and get inside the island. Boatmen, divers and fishers stand in the line with their heavy bags filled with dived out goods, fish and other sea creatures. They enter one by one, showing their papers and their tattoos, declaring the number of days they intend to stay in Oxan and paying their entrance tax. They have to give two coins for every night they intend to stay. The guards take the coins and interview them one by one, making sure they have come to the island for the reason they say. Everything is recorded in the special notebooks, the names, duration and taxes paid. Two other guards search the bags to make sure the traders are not bringing in anything else than they have declared and all the goods, whether brought in or taken out of the Island, is recorded. At last, they will get their papers stamped and set foot on the crowded roofed alleys. Tirad holds his arm up so that everyone can see his Saviour Ship tattoo and don’t object to his cutting off the line. He passes through easily and gets into the booth.