With a curt nod, Pan’assár turned away, unvoiced words of praise stuck to the back of his tongue. As for Galdith, his eyes had been on the boughs above him, unable to watch the young orphan with his dying plant. It reminded him of his own lost family, dead at the Battle of Sen’uár.
Galadan squeezed Galdith’s shoulder, pushing him along towards the edge of the pier where their two boats bobbed in the water, tied to a wooden post. Ramien smiled as he hefted the chest onto one of the boats all by himself. To one side, Handir and Llyniel talked quietly. Her eyes crossed with Ramien, a smile lighting her face. He mirrored it, winked at her then felt Idernon’s elbow in his ribs.
The boats were bigger than Fel’annár had expected. There was room for three aside and enough space in between for luggage. At the back was a long rudder that jutted out way past the guides’ shoulders, and around the entire structure was a low wall of logs, on top of which sat three paddles on either side. The wooden benches along each side did not look comfortable, but he supposed three days on the river was better than two weeks in the saddle. He turned back to the commanders and listened to Pan’assár’s brief.
“The River Masters require that we all listen to their instruction today. The waters are calm so they will show us the proper use of paddles and some safety measures should we run into difficulty. From tomorrow, it seems the currents will be stronger and the ride rougher. I want both princes and that chest duly protected. I will travel with Handir and his chest, Fel’annár, Ramien and Idernon. Gor’sadén will travel with Sontúr, Galdith, Galadan, Carodel and Llyniel.”
Gor’sadén nodded, satisfied at the distribution of their group, save that he would have preferred Fel’annár in his own boat.
“Should we run into problems, we make for the eastern shore, before the Horizon Falls and then the cliffs beyond and the Glistening Falls.” The commanders and lieutenants nodded their understanding, and Pan’assár gave the order to climb aboard.
Talen ushered Handir to a spot at the back, just beside the rudder that he himself would be steering. There were two coils of thick rope, on top of which lay a bright red buoy. He could only guess what that might be used for. Handir swallowed thickly and reached for the criss-crossing ropes that held down their chest of most precious belongings.
Along the port side, the guide placed Fel’annár at the bow and beside him on the right, was Ramien. Behind Fel’annár was Idernon, and beside him, Pan’assár would sit. Paddle in hand, Ramien smiled over at Fel’annár, excitement on his face, and for a moment, Fel’annár was back in the Deep Forest, up to some mischief. It was a welcome distraction from his slowly growing anxiety of what awaited in the forest. It was a moment of boyish adventure they had not felt for too long, and Fel’annár turned, only to find Idernon smirking back at him.
There were many rivers in the Deep Forest, but none of them as wide as this one. The biggest could be forded in five strides, and the water was rarely deep enough to swim. Granted, there were a few canyon pools that were almost always full of swimmers. But they had heard the tales of the vast expanses of water in these parts, and the rapids. And then, of course, there were the falls. On their way to Senge, Idernon had teased the Silvans amongst them. He had spoken of the roaring waters, the clouds of mist and the dangerous undercurrents. He had then answered the questions Galdith, Ramien and Carodel had asked him. With relish, he had exaggerated the dangers, enjoyed their round eyes and slack mouths far too much. Unfortunately, Handir had also heard it all.
On the other boat, Gor’sadén stood by his own guide, watching his group organise themselves.
“You must put words to a melody of our adventures on the Cor’hidén, brother,” said Galdith, clapping Carodel on the shoulder. “I hope you’ve wrapped and stowed your baby well.”
“I slipped it inside our prince’s chest,” he murmured.
“Well, it will be safe there, yes.” Galdith nodded, duly impressed with his friend’s audacity, unaware that Handir had given him permission.
“Here we go!” said Sontúr as their guides gave the order to row and they floated away from the jetty.
“Reach out with your hands and feel the ropes along the outside of the craft,” instructed Talen while Deron did likewise on the other boat. “These ropes are for your safety. Should you fall into the waters, you must swim hard back to the craft and hold on to these ropes. If any member of this vessel is thrown into the water, it is your priority to aid them in returning. If you fall and cannot return, you should float upon your back and follow the current with your feet before you. This will allow you to kick away from rocks, boulders and other hazards. If you are thrown a rope, take it and swim back towards the vessel, not forwards or you will get more than just a mouthful of frigid mountain water. If you are being swept by the current, do not attempt to stand. Swim to the vessel or the eastern shore if you can; we will find you.”
Pan’assár turned to his warriors and watched as they nodded their understanding. Handir swallowed, his hand grasping the inner safety ropes a little tighter. From the other boat, Llyniel pulled her face into a mock panic and then smiled fondly at him. She knew him well, and Handir didn’t mind, so long as it was just her that had noticed his fear.
His eyes travelled to the chest that sat at the centre of their boat, strapped down with ropes. The missives were inside, carefully wrapped in oilcloth. They must not be lost for they were the unequivocal evidence of Sulén and Silor’s treachery, and of course, they pointed at Band’orán’s instigation of it. They were the weapon Handir would use to discredit him. Such a precious cargo they carried, and for the first time, he wondered at the wisdom of taking this route. Was two weeks less travel time worth the risk?
“Row!” came two commands, and after some angling and see-sawing, the boats slipped into the soft current that took them at a leisurely pace down the centre of the river. The tree-lined shores were close enough to see the faces of those who fished or washed or simply sat and waved as they passed. All the while, their guide explained how to paddle forwards, then backwards, to the left and right, and with every instruction, he made them carry out the movements and observe the results.
Ramien was fascinated, claiming that river boating was the best thing since smoked sausages, and Idernon was taken with the kinetics of movement through water. Carodel was whipping up a song in his mind, while Galdith scowled at the waters, saying they were starting to make him queasy. As for Fel’annár, he scanned the shores as he listened to the guide, the song from the trees peaceful and welcoming, while Sontúr and Galadan enjoyed the ride, accustomed as they were to river navigation.
Handir, though, seemed unimpressed. His critical eye searched the structure for signs of ill-use and fatal flaws. He found none, but the sour lemon Fel’annár rather thought was in his mouth did not disappear. He turned to his wife in the other boat, a little behind his own, and watched as thin wisps of hair floated around her face, framing her placid smile and dreamy eyes.
It was a miracle they were here, mainly whole and hale. It was such an unlikely thing that, in spite of what awaited them—the prospect of war, of meeting strangers that were his father and brother—he could enjoy this moment. But with Aria as his witness, he was enjoying it. It was a brief, wonderful interlude in which everything else faded away, and he was free; free to row and laugh and contemplate his love on the river.